Category: Words In

They Come in Pairs

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

Works by all my favorite writers keep rolling ashore, two by two.

Trade paperback edition of Laird Barron’s The Light is the Darkness arrived recently, just a week or so after I finished his novel The Croning.

Just finished reading Brian Evenson’s Immobility (review forthcoming), and one of the very next items in my “to read” pile is Evenson’s new collection Windeye.

One of my favorite novels this year, Available Dark by Elizabeth Hand, was followed closely by another Hand novel, Radiant Days. Can’t wait to dig into this one.

Another of the top writers of weird fiction, Caitlin Kiernan, has one novel The Drowning Girl perched near the top of my “read next” pile, and another collection Confessions of a Five-Chambered Heart schedule to arrive probably the day after I finish her novel.

This is certainly preferable to one’s favorite writer taking multiple years between books. Still, I keep looking longingly and impatiently at the pile. So many things I’m eager to begin.

Words In: The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

The Night Circus, like many very popular books, seems to divide opinion. Lots of “best of the year” lists and five-star reviews, but quiet a few 1- and 2-star reviews as well. There’s a lot of magic here, both in the literal sense and metaphorically in term of atmosphere and wonder. Circus imagery abounds, which is not a surprise given the title, and the “black and white with a dash of red” color scheme of the cover seems to be the color of just about everyone and everything in the story. Descriptions are rich with detail, and it would be fair to say Erin Morgenstern devotes at least as much attention to describing the accoutrements of the circus as developing her major characters.

Le Cirque des Rêves, a seemingly mystical traveling circus which appears without warning, vanishes just as suddenly, and is only open to patrons at night. A pair of young magicians, Celia and Marco, are brought up in lifelong magical training, each by an adoptive father figure, in preparation for a competition between these two older men which will be played out by Celia and Marco, at some time in the future.

If the book has one failing, it’s a greater focus on the performances and mechanisms of the circus and the magical contest than on the internal workings of the characters. The story is not perfect, but the writing is so lushly descriptive and image-rich, the setting so attractive, I found myself in love with it all anyway. I believe this is one of those books prospective readers can easily judge by the cover and synopsis. If it doesn’t seem like your kind of thing, it almost certainly isn’t. Those readers to whom the central conceit seems interesting will likely be enchanted and forgive the book its few shortcomings. Many, like me, will adore this book and find themselves eagerly awaiting a followup from this first-time novelist.

Lately I Read Faster Than I Review

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

Usually I read a book or two, then review a book or two. The pace is steady. I don’t normally read so much that I get behind on reviewing what I’ve read.

Now I’m behind.

Set some things aside to read The Croning (see last blog post) and decided it’s time to start catching up, so I reviewed that one as soon as I finished it.

I’m pretty close to the end of Immobility by Brian Evenson, so I’ll have to do that one too.

Then there are all these I read and haven’t reviewed yet:

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9361589-the-night-circus

In the Mean Time by Paul Tremblay
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/7781495-in-the-mean-time

Liquor by Poppy Z. Brite
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/102142.Liquor

The Body Artist by Don Delillo
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11767.The_Body_Artist

Pet Sematary by Stephen King
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/10583.Pet_Sematary

…LIES….Thunder….ashes… by Joseph S. Pulver Sr.
http://arkhambazaar.com/books/strange-aeons-presents-…lies….thunder….ashes….

The Wet Nurse by Mike Dubisch
http://arkhambazaar.com/books/the-wet-nurse-by-mike-dubisch

It’s worth saying that the lack of recent reviews is not at all due to lack of enthusiasm about what I’ve been reading. On the contrary. There’s some great stuff here, lots of 4 and 5 star reviews coming up. I have a lot I want to say about these!

Words In: Naked City: Tales of Urban Fantasy, Ellen Datlow, Editor

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

I’ve been reading a lot of story anthologies lately, and the word “uneven” comes up in my reviews so often I sound like a broken record. Many anthologies are mixed in terms of quality, and while you might guess the problem to be the difficulty of finding enough strong writers to participate, I think it’s more that some of the most prominent writers earn their spot by name recognition alone, and just go through the motions. Most of the stories with “New York Times bestseller” as part of the author bio seemed to me rushed, superficial and generally lacking, as if cranked out to fulfill a commitment rather than to express ideas. There are exceptions. Jim Butcher is well-known, with a successful series of novels, and his lead-off story “Curses” is enjoyable and engaging. The strongest work here, and there is certainly enough of it to justify purchase of The Naked City, comes from emerging or mid-list writers.

Matthew Kressel’s “The Bricks of Gelecek” may have been the most beautifully crafted piece here, and certainly the most poetic. It’s my first exposure to Kressel and I’ll keep his name in mind. Jeffrey Ford’s “Daddy Longlegs of the Evening” overcomes a somewhat puzzling and ultimately not-entirely-satisfying central concept by virtue of a pleasing narrative voice and wonderfully crafted prose. Lucius Shepard’s “The Skinny Girl” is likewise stronger on style than content, but the piece is relatively brief and moves along well. Shepard is one of the truly fine craftsman of sentences in genre writing. Nathan Ballingrud’s “The Way Station” feels like the most heartfelt and intense of stories here. As with Kressel, this is a name I’ll follow in the future. Caitlin R. Kiernan is one of my favorite writers of weird and fantastic fiction, and her “The Colliers’ Venus (1893)” was an excellent, flavorful period piece with a bit of steampunk feel, but not so much as to annoy those of us who find steampunk tiresome.

Lavie Tidhar’s “The Projected Girl” started off strong and had me engaged for a while, only to drag later on. Could’ve been a great 20 page story or even a very good 30 pager, but at 40 pages overstayed its welcome. Likewise, I went back and forth on Elizabeth Bear’s lengthy closing piece, “King Pole, Gallows Pole, Bottle Tree.” It’s well-written and emotionally real, but often the fantasy component to the story felt tacked-on to a real world story about a couple of friends.

I understand story anthologies are tough to put together. Often bigger names have to be included in order to get a publisher interested. This necessity makes things tougher on Editor Ellen Datlow, who’s better at this kind of thing than anyone, as the all-stars don’t seem to be putting in as much effort as the players off the bench. That’s not a reason to avoid The Naked City, not at all, but this will be of greater interest to fans of writers like Kiernan, Ballingrud, Ford and Shepard than fans of the better-known names prominently featured on the cover.

Words In: Let’s Play White by Chesya Burke

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

I imagine some readers might have avoided Chesya Burke’s collection due to the title, convinced that the stories were not merely concerned with the black experience, but intended specifically for a black readership. To avoid Let’s Play White for that reason would be a mistake, though, for any reader interested in a unique take on the horror and fantasy genres.

The stories in this collection take place in a variety of settings, both in terms of time and place. Some are contemporary and urban, while some of the most effective pieces take place decades ago in the American South. So much fantasy and horror fiction tends to happen in imaginary alternate worlds, yet Burke demonstrates there are plenty of compelling settings for stories in the real world outside the most common “present-day-big-city” approach.

It’s my belief that a writer’s technique and skill change most quickly early in their career, so first collections or early novels are quite often uneven. I’d say that’s the case here. Though I appreciate stories that retain mystery, or that leave key questions unanswered, several stories here left me unsatisfied. In order to pull off the mysterious ending, it’s necessary to engage the reader and provide some kind of payoff, even if there’s not clean resolution. A few of the stories were a bit slight, less than fully formed, or ended too near where they began.

Having said that, the greater number of stories in the collection are quite accomplished. “Cue: Change” is an unusual take on the zombie tale, and also a bit of a change in terms of tone from the rest of the stories here. “What She Saw When She Flew Away” is an affecting tale about a young girl whose twin has died. Other favorites include the historical settings of “I Make People Do Bad Things” (about a brothel madame in mid-century Harlem) and “The Teachings and Redemption of Ms. Fannie Lou Mason,” a novella that takes up the last 1/3 of the book. The Ms. Mason of the title is a witch who travels through a number of small towns. In one, she tries to help young girls who may have powers similar to her own. Given enough space to flesh out her ideas a bit more here, Burke portrays the milieu with a lot of vividness and flavor.

Many first collections are internally inconsistent, but the better stories in Let’s Play White more than justify the collection as a whole, and show Chesya Burke to be a capable writer worth following.

Words In: Fugue State by Brian Evenson

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

The first time I remember hearing the term “fugue state” was in association with the David Lynch film Lost Highway, in which a character detaches psychologically from life he knows, loses his very self. He drifts on through life, encountering strangers who are vaguely familiar, and tripping over circumstances which seem tenuously related to the life and self-hood he knew before.

I don’t know how much Brian Evenson was inspired by Lynch’s film, if at all. The characters in Fugue State encounter mysteries, and in most cases undergo some kind of shift or dislocation of personality. Sometimes the characters are lost, while the reader is allowed insight into the character’s plight, and at other times the reader is equally mystified. This obliqueness is intentional, not a matter of poor craft, of stories lacking somehow. When an author gives the reader such a large helping of absurdity, of disconnection and illogic, the reader must determine whether the effects are in the service of a coherent artistic intention, or if the storyteller is himself lost, or just goofing around. Evenson’s stories always convey not only willful intention, but consummate craft.

There may be no more than a thin line between the pointlessly nonsensical and the profoundly obscure, or resonantly absurd. Storytellers like Kafka and Borges, not to mention David Lynch, manage to test the limits of what their audience may consider meaningful without every straying over that aforementioned line.

These stories vary dramatically in length, from 2-page snippets to the 30-page title novella. Fugue State straddles the boundary between experimental literary fiction and genres such as weird fantasy, horror and slipstream. The writing here has the flavor of edgy-yet-mainstream literature, but in these stories weird things occur as in Poe, Kafka and the like. Just as with the other authors I’ve mentioned by name, Brian Evenson’s work is not for everyone. These mysterious and intelligent fictions don’t always give answers, but rather stimulate some hidden, unknowable aspect of the subconscious. Those who like this kind of thing – Kafka, Borges, even David Lynch’s Lost Highway or Mulholland Drive – will love Fugue State. I recommend it highly.

Words In: Available Dark by Elizabeth Hand

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

Available Dark follows Cassandra Neary, a damaged, self-destructive and somewhat washed-up art photographer, who first appeared in Hand’s 2007 novel, Generation Loss. A novel with Neary as a protagonist is bound to be a wild ride. She’s prone to sudden changes in direction, abruptly taking off for an isolated island off of Maine (in Generation Loss), or to meet a shady Finnish collector of death-obsessed photographs, or chase a long-lost friend/lover who might be in Iceland. Along the way she encounters murder and threat, and often manages to multiply her own troubles by the following her own badly damaged sense of direction. Complicating all this is Cass’s painful personal history, which lingers in her present despite the passage of years. Some people deal with adversity by bucking up and getting on with things, while others self-medicate using a cocktail of antisocial behavior, emotional avoidance, and a constant flow of mood-altering substances. Cass fits in the latter, and for this reason her problems aren’t so much solved as left to accumulate, trailing in her wake.

Such a compelling central character does much of the work in engaging the reader. On top of this we have unusual settings (Reykjavik and Iceland’s outlying areas are especially exotic, well drawn here) and such intriguing milieu as the worlds of photography concerned with death and folklore, the Scandinavian Black Metal scene, and obscure underground cult-like groups dedicated to resurrecting ancient Norse worship. The book is packed with vivid details, bizarre characters, and fascinating and varied artistic and cultural obsessions.

Most of Hand’s earlier writing was constrained to Fantasy and related genres, but here she steps away from the impossible. Available Dark concerns itself with real world situations, characters and conflicts, yet these convey all the bizarre extremity of the strangest alt-world fantasy. It’s possible some of her devoted readers may be disappointed by what is essentially a mainstream thriller, but I don’t feel Available Dark suffers in the least from the lack of overt “impossible” elements. Normally if one of my favorite genre writers took a detour into the mainstream, I might say, “That’s nice, now get back to what you do best.” In this case, I find the character and settings so compelling I’d happily follow a Cass Neary series.

Hand seems to me a writer’s writer, less concerned with superficial effects or pursuit of the latest publishing industry fad, more interested in crafting artful, expressive prose and shining light upon genuine and true “real life” moments. With Available Dark, Elizabeth Hand walks the tightrope between more accessible mainstream entertainments on one hand, and on the other maintaining a high artistic standing in the unflinching exploration of the dark and exotic. Available Dark constitutes yet another proof of Hand’s status as one of the very best writers working today, in any genre. I can’t wait for more Cassandra Neary.

Words In: Nightingale Songs by Simon Strantzas

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

Nightingale Songs is the third story collection from Canadian writer Simon Strantzas, following Beneath the Surface and Cold to the Touch. While these earlier collections might be characterized by more of a Ligotti or Lovecraft vibe, Nightingale Songs takes the reader into quieter, more restrained territory. The influences underlying these stories are acknowledged up-front, in John Langan’s introduction, which mentions Ramsay Campbell and Robert Aickman. I perceive more of an Aickman feel here. Robert Aickman is a favorite of many readers of horror fiction, but some consider his work too vague or low-key. The same quality is true of Strantzas’s work. His work is so accomplished, so cleanly polished, that he’s quickly acquired a devoted following. At the same time, the style and the mood of these stories may not satisfy those readers seeking a more visceral or dynamic experience. This collection is most suited to those who enjoy a subtle, introspective read in which the reader’s imagination is called upon to enrich and enliven the experience.

One word that comes to mind, as an overall descriptor for these stories as a group, is restrained. The emotions at play here aren’t terror, rage or mania. The characters in Nightingale Songs worry. They suffer anxiety or hesitation. In some cases they doubt, or wonder if they saw what they think they saw, if they can trust their memory. When they obsess, their focus is directed inward. When they act, they do so quietly.

The writing is transparent in style. The simplicity and clarity of the prose is its strength, though some readers will consider this its weakness. Sentences are stripped-down and polished, and convey the sense that a lot more craft and care goes into this almost Zen-like level of straightforwardness than is immediately apparent to the reader. Much writing in the horror community is concerned with splashy set pieces and gotcha moments, so a writer who cares so much about subtler, slower effects stands out from the crowd.

At the same time, I’d argue most of the stories could benefit from a bit more sensory detail. Descriptive passages seem intentionally vague. I’d like to see how a Strantzas story worked, with all the same tension and disquiet, but with greater fleshing-out of the sensory world of the story. The inner world of the character is described with subtlety and nuance, and I think these stories could be improved by giving the reader a more vivid sense (mostly visual) of the characters and their surroundings. This may be completely my own bias, and doesn’t indicate Strantzas has failed to achieve his aim with these stories. My impression is that the author has rendered characters and settings in an intentionally elliptical way, leaving many details blank, to be filled-in by the reader’s imagination.

There is much to respect here in terms of writerly craft and care. These stories all have a distinctive clarity, a sort of crystalline straightforwardness. I enjoyed this collection and will definitely keep an eye on Strantzas in the future.

Words In: The New Gothic, anthology edited by Bradford Morrow and Patrick McGrath

On By griffinwordsIn Words InLeave a comment

I’ve been reading an awful lot of story anthologies lately, and the word “uneven” seems to occur to me just about every time. No exception here, I’m afraid. Despite the roster of respected names on display here, from experimentalists to literary mainstays, writers with horror/fantasy credentials and those who work in other genres such as mysteries, many seemed not to know what to do with the theme.

Complicating matters further is the editors’ use of novel excerpts, rather than stories specifically crafted to fit here. The Anne Rice and Peter Straub excerpts, at least, were some of the better writing on display, and somewhat suited to the theme.

I most enjoyed the short stories of Jeanette Winterson, Jamaica Kincaid, Joyce Carol Oates and Angela Carter, all of them inventive, colorfully told and evocative. Otherwise, the most interesting stories were by writers I previously knew by name only, like Ruth Rendell and Scott Bradfield, or hadn’t heard of before, as in the case of Jamaica Kincaid and Emma Tennant.

Conversely, some of the more established names whose work I looked forward to here — Martin Amis, John Hawkes, Robert Coover, Kathy Acker and William T. Vollman — disappointed. At least Acker and Vollman displayed a knack for stringing together a nicely-formed sentence. Amis, Hawkes and Coover all three lost me early on. Their stories seemed less about engaging the reader and more about amusing the writers themselves with puns, crudity and pointless wackiness.

I know some readers frown upon fiction writers, who are also editors, including work in their own edited anthologies. It’s interesting that two of the better stories here are by the editors of The New Gothic, Bradford Morrow and Patrick McGrath. Morrow’s “The Road to Nadeja” drew me in as much as anything in the book. A compellingly drawn narrative. McGrath’s “The Smell” was strongly narratived, a great imitation of the old-fashioned Gothic in terms of both voice and tone.

In the end, I was left thinking this “New Gothic” movement, if there ever was such a thing (this was released in 1992), lacked the vitality and momentum to deserve a title, let alone to support a themed anthology of this kind.

Words In: The Orphan Palace by Joseph S. Pulver Sr.

On By griffinwordsIn Words In1 Comment

The Orphan Palace smacks the reader in the face from the first page just to resolve any question about who’s in charge. Pulver’s approach here is to make the story not just something the main character experiences, but a series of thoughts and perceptions. It takes place “in here” rather than “out there.” The stream-of-consciousness style took me a while to settle into due to the hyper-saturated poetic style. This may be the most uncompromising narrative I’ve read in years, but it’s worth settling into the groove of this energetic and strongly poetic tale. 

The story’s protagonist Cardigan is profoundly damaged, and burns and kills his way across the country in search of redemption or revenge for events long past. That the reader ends up identifying with and caring about such a reckless and even murderous character testifies to the way Pulver’s narrative technique takes the reader inside Cardigan’s head. The story’s events seem like something you’re living through, not simply reading. Like the most daring works of art, no summary can do justice to what’s happening here. The blurb on the back cover does almost nothing to convey what this book is like. The story is dreamlike, told in language ranging from vivid poetics to a hard-bitten shorthand to incantatory near-ravings. Frequent use of repetition gives a sense of the shattered reality Cardigan inhabits. The effect is cumulative, so that repeated elements and phrases take on a different meaning and carry more weight as the story advances. 


An energetic mix of noir/crime and surrealistic dark fantasy verging on horror, The Orphan Palace feels more like “cinema of the mind” than narrative fiction, and it may be for that reason that I find myself thinking more about filmmakers when I try to find something to compare it to. Pulver’s surreal dreamscapes seem to have some precedence in David Lynch (especially Lost Highway, Mulholland Drive, and Inland Empire), Alejandro Jodorowky (El Topo and Holy Mountain) and Lars Von Trier (especially Antichrist). I was even reminded of Guillermo Del Toro in some of the novel’s more fantastic sections, especially the “night library” scene, which left me wanting more. 

Any narrative so inwardly-directed and uncompromising is bound to leave the reader scratching their head in a few places, but that is more than compensated-for by the vivid effects which simply would not be possible with a more straightforward storytelling style. The Orphan Palace feels like being led by the hand (scratch that — led by the brain is more like it) through a dark and surreal nightmare, an experience both powerful and disturbing. I can’t wait to see what Pulver does next. Highly recommended, at least for readers open to a more experimental storytelling approach.