Category: Words In

Thomas Ligotti’s The Agonizing Resurrection of Victor Frankenstein

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My copy of the new Centipede Press edition of The Agonizing Resurrection of Victor Frankenstein by Thomas Ligotti just arrived. Haven’t started reading yet, but the book is so beautiful it inspired me to take pictures.

Centipede often throws in extra stuff with your order. Last time it was some large art prints on loose sheets, plus a National Geographic map of Mexico. This time it was a book (not a Centipede edition) along with a note explaining that they thought this would appeal to fans of Thomas Ligotti.

This photo makes the book look tiny but it’s actually quite tall.

Front cover view on top of slipcase.

Hypnotic endpapers.

The illustration opposite the title page gives a sense of the quality of the artwork inserts.

Many beautiful color illustrations. What a luscious edition!

By the way, this book is already sold out at the publisher, though there are reportedly a few copies available at dealers here & there.

Review: Engines of Desire by Livia Llewellyn

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If not for a recommendation on Laird Barron’s blog, I might never have picked up this excellent collection (to which Barron provided a foreword). Prior to the release of this collection, all I’d seen from Livia Llewellyn was “Brimstone Orange,” too short a piece to give much of a sense of this writer’s capabilities. I’m very glad I didn’t miss what turned out to be one of the best single author short story collections I’ve come across in recent years.

Llewellyn’s prose style is strongly visual and evocative. Readers who prefer their prose simple and declarative may find this a too rich, but those enjoy a writer with a vibrant, poetic approach to putting words together will love it. Especially as a debut collection, Engines of Desire is noteworthy for the strength and richness of its language.

That’s not to say these stories are for everyone. The mood is uniformly dark, at times bitterly so. These stories cover a wide ground from post-apocalyptic science fiction to erotica, from psychological horror to dark fantasy. At first I thought the book might be too scattered genre-wise, but further along I realized the stories here were held together not by genre conventions, but by thematic commonalities and a consistency to the personal concerns of the characters, apart from place, time or the existence of monsters or magic. Whatever the trappings of one story or another, all clearly arise out of a strong, unified creative impetus. In terms of cumulative effect, these stories hold together quite well, both individually and as a collection.

The collection opens with “Horses,” a bleak and psychologically extreme piece of post-apocalyptic SF. It effectively lets the reader know what they’re in for. This is followed by a dramatic shift to what is effectively (despite the insertion of a few elements that feel vaguely “fantastic” but which are not really part of the story’s core) a realistic story of a sexually obsessed and self-destructive college student. Llewellyn depicts the college girl obsessed with the wrong guy with the same raw desperation with which she draws characters beset by a disintegrating.

Among the rest of the collection, the best include “The Four-Hundred,” the title story “The Engines of Desire,” and “Her Deepness.” This last, an ambitious novella, is a really impressive example of fantasy world building. Truly dark, deeply weird and at times surreal.

While a few of these stories were less effective on the level of compelling plot or characters than they were in terms of language and mood, I found none of them less than satisfying overall. If we can extrapolate from an author’s debut collection to guess what they may be capable of, I really can’t wait to see what Livia Llewellyn does next.

Review: Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman

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I love short stories. I love Neil Gaiman’s writing. Does it follow, then, that I love Neil Gaiman short stories?

Some of them, yes.

Smoke and Mirrors covers a lot of ground: humor, erotica, whimsy and horror. Included are several poems, some flash fiction pieces, and a number of conventional short stories. The tone, regardless of what mood or emotion a given story is going for, tends toward the straightforward. Unadorned, no-nonsense, but clear and effective.

Gaiman’s favorite trick is to flip a well-known fable or fairy tale upside down — to reveal events seen from a different character’s perspective, or to modernize a traditional character or scenario.

“Murder Mysteries,” a long story retelling interactions between angels going back to the very formation of the universe and the human sphere, may be the most ambitious and interesting thing here. “Snow, Glass, Apples” is likewise richly told and well written.

“Shoggoth’s Old Peculiar,” which visits a variation on Lovecraft’s fictional town of Innsmouth, and “We Can Get Them for You Wholesale,” about a guy who turns to an assassination service to help him deal with his frustrations, are particularly funny.

Many of other pieces were comparatively slight, though. In my recent review of Joe Hill’s collection “Twentieth Century Ghosts,” I said the book might have been improved by eliminating the weakest 1/3 of the material, and I’d say the same thing here. A shorter book, but a much stronger one, would result. I give the collection as a whole 4 stars, but there’s quite a bit of 5-star material here, as well as some individual stories I’d give 3 or even 2 stars.

Overall a hit-and-miss collection, yet it contains some very worthwhile stories fans of Gaiman won’t want to miss.

Quickie review: 20th Century Ghosts by Joe Hill

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When is a book that you give 4 out of 5 stars on Goodreads a minor disappointment? I guess when it’s uneven, and held back by weaker material in the middle that could have been left out.

At its best, 20th Century Ghosts by Joe Hill is a top-notch collection of creepy, Twilight Zone influence dark fantasy and horror. It’s worth pointing out, now that everybody now knows Joe is Stephen King’s son, that despite that parentage, and the word “ghosts” in the collection title and “horror” in the title of the first story, this isn’t really a horror collection. A few stories have a psychological horror “tingle,” and some include horror elements, but overall the mood is pretty quiet.

Overall the collection shows above-average strength, but in my opinion that 4-star level is not reached by a bunch of 4-star stories, but a mix ranging from the fantastic (such as “Best New Horror,” “Pop Art,” and the title story) to the mundane and disappointing. Several more tepid pieces fill out the middle, and for me dissipate some of the energy built up in the best stuff at the very beginning and the end.

The worst thing I can say about it is that I had completely forgotten all details of several of the stories by the time I finished the book, and had to refer back to the table of contents to remind myself what happened in between the more powerful beginning and end. On the positive side, there is some really strong, wonderful material in here and I’d rather judge a story collection by its strongest pieces than the weaker ones. To be fair, this is Hill’s first collection and first book of any kind, so it includes some of his earliest published work. Hill made clear with his subsequent books (two very enjoyable novels, Heart Shaped Box and Horns) that his star is ascendant.

Ideally the editors might have removed a few of the less inspired or energetic stories from the middle, such as “You Will Hear the Locust Sing,” “Abraham’s Boys,” “In the Rundown,” and “Better Than Home” and either present a shorter collection with higher impact, or include instead some newer material more on the level of the best pieces at the very beginning and end. I think I’d rather read a 200 page book that sustains its strength, than a 300 page book with some 3-star stories in the middle.

I’d hate to bitch too much about a collection with great stuff in it like “Pop Art” and “Best New Horror.” If I seem somewhat disappointed, it’s just that unevenness through the middle. I’ve read some great story collections recently, and at one point thought this one might be right up there,but it’s still worth checking out. Just skip a few of the stories in the middle, if they seem to you like they might be drifting a little.

The Ones That Got Away

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Just finished reading a very fine story collection by Stephen Graham Jones called The Ones That Got Away. It’s not The Ones WHO Got Away. There’s a story called “The Ones Who Got Away” but the collection’s title changes one word. No, really, it’s OK if you’re confused.

The Ones That Got Away by Stephen Graham Jones

The book collects thirteen stories published in a variety of venues ranging from more obscure journals and anthologies to the more prominent such as Cemetary Dance. In his story notes at the end, Jones offers entertaining and casual insights into the conception and crafting of each story, and in some cases talks about different versions of the story that existed along the way before he found a way to tell what he wanted told. I love this kind of stuff! It reminds me of the story notes that were always part of Harlan Ellison’s collections, which I looked forward to as much as the stories themselves. Jones seems to have such a humble attitude and likeable personality I imagine most readers will enjoy these bits, even those not looking for insight into the craft of writing.

I’ve always preferred horror fiction with a greater emphasis on character and story than on monsters and gore. Sometimes, though, horror fiction with literary aspirations takes this too far, and downplays the horrific aspect so much the end result is not horror at all, but a vague, low-key sort of ennui. This collection manages that balance perfectly, with plenty of gruesome details and chilling scenes that never become gratuitous or cause eye-rolls.

The first story, “Father, Son, Holy Rabbit” is exemplary. It’s a beautiful, sensitive story of fatherly love for a son, yet it’s also a tale so gruesome and disturbing as to cause nightmares. Despite its brevity, this story carries a serious payload.

Some stories are stronger than others, as in any collection, but not one is less than good. I suppose “The Meat Tree” is the one I feel could be removed without weakening the whole. In every other case, Jones combines a vivid conceptual imagination with convincing characters and conveys the whole in an engrossing voice. The final novella (“Crawlspace,” original to this collection) is some of the most gripping and anxiety-producing fiction I’ve ever read. It’s hard to imagine a reader making it from the first story to the last without being impressed.

The book was a finalist for a “Best Collection” Bram Stoker award, but was matched-up against the potent and masterful Occultation by Laird Barron (who wrote the introduction to Jones’s collection), and the book that won the award, Full Dark, No Stars by the world’s most popular author (doing some of his best work here) Stephen King.

Some writers exhibit a single strength, but Jones has all the bases covered. His writing has an edge without losing accessibility, his stories address familiar tropes and concepts in a way that seems fresh, and he seems in every case fully in control of his world, its mood, and the effect it has on the reader. I recommend this book, and it has definitely convinced me to seek out other works by Jones.

The most-viewed post ever on this blog

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I keep two versions of the same blog on WordPress and Livejournal. Only rarely do I post something to one, but not both.

I noticed something in the WordPress “stats” today that I found interesting. By far the most-viewed posting in the history of this blog (not just at first, when I posted it, but on an ongoing basis) is my “SF Academy 1” post, or https://griffinwords.wordpress.com/2010/03/05/sf-academy-01-ringworld-by-larry-niven/

In it, I rather harshly criticized one of the beloved, classic works of 1970s SF. I feel a little bad for the negativity, especially as I doubted anybody would ever read the post. There must be a link to my post on Ringworld-is-Sooo-Overrated.com or something.

I stand by my appraisal of the prose shortcomings of that novel, and my puzzlement that the book is held in such high regard.

Someone To Say No

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Every creative person needs someone in a position to tell them when what they’re doing isn’t working.

Even artists at the top of their game sometimes create substandard work. Some even go completely off the rails, get too big for their britches, snort too much coke. Even the giant bestseller of our era Stephen King needed an editor at various points in his history to say “Maybe you need to take another run at this.” To support my assertion I offer you The Tommyknockers.

That’s the problem I have with electronic self-publishing, or its equivalent in music, the download-only mp3 release. There’s nobody to say “No, not good enough.” There’s no incentive to hold back from releasing every last rough-draft that would be better discarded.

The internet’s overflowing with debate about self-publishing, particularly of the electronic variety. When self-publishing meant paying thousands of dollars to print up a handful of trade paperbacks, few enough people did it that there wasn’t much debate. That financial barrier to entry kept self-publishing a sort of odd little curiosity off in the corner of the publishing world. Now every other writer’s experimenting with putting old out-of-print novels up on Amazon’s store in Kindle format, or at least putting up a 99-cent short story or two. Even relatively well-known writers are doing it. I don’t have much of a problem with established writers self-publishing in this way, but I do think the complete removal of any “quality control” barriers may be problematic.

It’s already caused a huge problem in the music world. Even ten years ago, listeners could keep track of most of the new stuff coming out in their genres of choice. Now there are thousands of new releases per year in even the narrowest niche genres, and while the “big name” artists still sell more than the little guys, those big names also sell a quarter or less of what they used to. Dilution isn’t a good thing for the people who are serious about what they do. I suppose it can be a good thing for the consumer, if more choice is always a good thing (and I’d argue it isn’t)

Every artist needs someone in a position to tell them: “No.”

Books Lately

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Just some very brief notes on books I’m reading or recently finished.

As I’ve mentioned here before, I often read several short story collections or anthologies at once. I take one or two stories from each and move on. I’m currently working through “Fugue State” by Brian Evenson, “Compositions For the Young and Old” by Paul Tremblay, “Blood Will Have Its Season” by Joseph S. Pulver Jr.. Also I’m near the end of two collections I’ve been savoring slowly for months, “Saffron and Brimstone” by Elizabeth Hand, and “The Imago Sequence” by Laird Barron, in fact I’ve finished other books by both writers since I began these.

Every one of the above books is absolutely top-notch and I feel like I’ve discovered more wonderful writers in the last year than in the previous decade.

I’m reading a biography of Donald Barthelme, a writer I haven’t read much since the 90s but who used to be one of my favorites. It’s called “Hidden Man” and it’s actually quite engaging and interesting as biographies go (I often find them hit and miss).

The biggest reading event of this year for me has been the “Border Trilogy” of Cormac McCarthy, which is comprised by his novels “All the Pretty Horses,” “The Crossing” and “Cities of the Plain.” I think I had put off approaching this trilogy for two reasons. First, the film adaptation starring Matt Damon and Penelope Cruz gave me the impression the whole thing would be lighthearted and romantic, and second, the structure of the trilogy (which is to say only a disjointed connection between the three books, with no characters in common between the first and second, and only one character from each of the two books appearing in the third) put me off a little. These books are nowhere near as mushy and feminine as the previews for the “Pretty Horses” movie made it seem, in fact the movie itself is nowhere near that romantic. Female characters don’t

The significant connection between the three novels is that despite the variation in character and the time gaps between books, all occur in the border area between the USA and Mexico, and all three involve crossings between the two lands as significant plot elements. The books are as stark and as harsh as the rest of McCarthy’s work, and a recurring theme is the attempt of a character to rescue a doomed or wounded friend, woman, child or animal. The landscape and the horses are as significant as any of the characters or plot events, and the narrative style varies from simple prose to poetry, from straightforward linear clarity to an almost ranting, biblical convolution.

There is never a question with McCarthy that he is writing about things that matter deeply to him, and that conviction and passion come through on the page. I consider him the most powerful and significant living writer, at least in the English language. If anybody out there hasn’t yet been convinced to read him by the various awards, the worshipful reviews, or even Oprah or the several film versions of his books, consider this yet another voice telling you, “If you read anything at all, you must read Cormac McCarthy.”

So many books, part 1

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I’ve bought so many books in the past few months, going back to a Thanksgiving trip to Lincoln City, I couldn’t begin to list them all. So much great stuff, though. Even more than usual, my reading has been fragmented. A bit of this, a bit of that. Two or three novels at a time, maybe a non-fiction book on the iPad, and multiple short story collections going all at once. Plus, I usually listen to an audiobook during my commute, generally something “light” or pop-fiction-ish, because it’s too hard to listen to complex, literary or multi-threaded stuff while driving. Some current and recent items of note include:

Generation Loss by Elizabeth Hand
This is my “main read” at the moment, a fascinating and strange novel, but not strange in the usual Elizabeth Hand way. This feels creepy, disjointed and somewhat horror-like, despite the apparent absence of any supernatural or “speculative” element. It’s basically the story of a very troubled woman who used to be a photographer, but whose life has degenerated in various ways to a point where she not only can’t practice her art any more, but can’t relate to or interact with people in any kind of functional way any more. She gets an offer to go interview one of her heroes, a reclusive and strange, and also somewhat broken and unproductive, photographic artist on an island in Maine. As I said, though this is published by Small Beer Press (Kelly Link’s own imprint) there seems to be nothing fantastic, unreal or supernatural going on. Just a lot of weird, troubled people in interesting circumstances. I’m enjoying this as much as any novel I’ve read in the last few years.

Forever War by Joe Haldeman
Another “top recent novel” experience for me, this one I stretched out over a long period of time, though it’s not long. I’ve read some other things, such as John Scalzi’s novel Old Man’s War, which obviously derive from this, and yet Forever War was so well-done, strongly characterized and confidently executed, it felt completely fresh to me. So often as I go back through classics of science fiction and fantasy, I find the quality of the writing to be very poor. It’s wonderful to find someone writing clear, expressive prose. When I read Joe Haldeman, I never find myself second-guessing the way he does things. He’s a writer I’ll definitely continue to explore in the future.

The Autopsy and Other Stories by Michael Shea
I saw Michael Shea read at the HP Lovecraft festival, and in fact my first exposure to his work was in Ellen Datlow’s Lovecraft Unbound anthology, not long before the festival. I think I heard about this particular book, the beautiful Centipede Press collection, on Laird Barron’s blog, when he mentioned writing the foreword for this edition. When one of my own favorite new writers calls out one of his own influences and favorites, it grabs my attention. I almost didn’t go for this book because it’s very expensive, but I had some Amazon.com gift cards from Christmas and they were offering the book cheaper. I normally try to buy direct and support smaller presses, but nobody gave me a $125 gift certificate to Centipede Press. This is a beautiful book, so much that I’ll definitely give consideration to Centipede editions in the future. Well-bound, beautiful paper, very nice illustrations, enough that I really feel the book is worth the high price. What I’ve read so far leads me to believe I’ll really enjoy the rest of it. Shea writes with a strong, poetic voice, and the stories display a wild, energetic inventiveness. I’m holding off on reading the title story, for now. I’ve heard so many good things about it, and I want to save it.

There are many more (even just counting the highlights) so I’ll post this now, and do another installment or two soon.

The Future is Here!

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The Future is Here!

I’ve just subscribed to the electronic version of a magazine, in this case Locus.

Too bad I can’t magically transform the enormous stacks of various paper magazines all over my house into epub or pdf versions — or better yet, super-magically get access to epub of pdf versions of long-last magazines from my past. I’d really enjoy reading old copies of Questar and Mondo 2000 and Twilight Zone, and even Wired and Interview before they both turned silly.