The House on the Borderland; A Review

In the early 90s, I had the privilege of traveling to the British Isles and, while there, picked up a small paperback. I had never heard of The House on the Borderland or its author, William Hope Hodgson. I remember that Brian Aldiss wrote the introduction. Then I remember being so captured by the story that I reread the novel several times until one day, one of my cats destroyed my original copy.

At that time, I discovered ebooks, so I always had a copy of this incredible tale. However, a few days ago, I found a small paperback (see the above graphic) at a bookstore in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Once again, I wandered with the narrator through the western part of Ireland, which is so rural and desolate that few maps of the area exist.

Written in 1908, the main story is framed by two men, Tonnison and the unnamed narrator, avid anglers who fish obscure streams for prize catches. One day, they discover the ruins of a large building perched precariously above a water-filled pit. Nosing about, they find the manuscript written by the last resident of the great House, only referred to as The Recluse.

Accompanied by his elderly sister and dog, Pepper, the Recluse enjoys his extreme solitude until one day, the House is unexplainedly besieged by hideous creatures in the shape of anthropomorphic swine from a nearby pit.

The story continues as the House works its evil will on the Recluse. With him, we fight off waves of the Swine-Things, explore the massive basement, the Pit, and experience a vision of the end of the universe. 

The bottom line is that lovers of weird literature can call themselves true devotees only if they have read this classic story. 

H. P. Lovecraft loved this tale, and he wrote:

The House on the Borderland (1908)—perhaps the greatest of all Mr. Hodgson’s works—tells of a lonely and evilly regarded house in Ireland which forms a focus for hideous other-world forces and sustains a siege by blasphemous hybrid anomalies from a hidden abyss below. The wanderings of the narrator’s spirit through limitless light-years of cosmic space and kalpas of eternity, and its witnessing of the solar system’s final destruction, constitute something almost unique in standard literature. And everywhere there is manifest the author’s power to suggest vague, ambushed horrors in natural scenery. But for a few touches of commonplace sentimentality this book would be a classic of the first water. (Supernatural Horror in Literature by H. P. Lovecraft)

Having reread this tale just a day ago—even though I knew what would happen—the writing still has the power to sway me with its cosmic horror, wonder, and subplot of lost love.

The House on the Borderland by William Hope Hodgson is in the public domain. eBook and PDF copies can be found through any of your favorite search engines. Paperbacks are available through any book dealer.

Good News For Writers

 

False Advertising

I am a huge fan of old-school horror and will eagerly read anything from the late 1800s to the 1980s. I eagerly scour used bookstores for such treats, but occasionally, I run across one that is a real dog.

I introduce you to Earth Sound by Arthur Herzog.

Warning: Spoilers Ahead, but as nobody reading my review will include this in their library anyway, I write a review with lots of spoilers and not a molecule of a guilty conscience.

Harry Vail has a doctorate in seismology. However, he and his girlfriend were present at the March 27, 1964, Alaska Earthquake and Tsunami, an actual historical quake measuring XI on the modified Mercalli Intensity scale. Seeing his girlfriend buried alive under a landslide invoked in Harry an overwhelming dread of earth tremors of any size.

Eventually, Harry marries and moves to what he thinks is the most geologically stable part of the United States, a fictitious coastal town named Old Brompton Village in New England that makes Lovecraft's Innsmouth look like a Pocono resort.

Harry begins feeling tremors in the ground, but even though he is an expert in earthquakes, nobody believes him, and nobody else feels these quakes. Nor do they hear the Moodus noises, the earth sounds of the title.

Combine this with weird summer neighbors that have all the caricatures of the spoiled filthy rich, the hostility of the townsfolk toward outsiders, in the end you have an incredulous tale where you do not just suspend disbelief, you have to drag it kicking and screaming into a dark alley and beat it to death.

Of course, in the end, the big earthquake hits, one even larger than the one Harry experienced in Alaska that wipes out the town (where we eventually discover the townsfolk have been worshipping the Moodus noises for generations and, for some reason, will kill to keep it all secret). Unfortunately, I found the earthquake so anticlimactic that when I finally reached the end, I was grateful to have finished the book but saddened at the loss of time I invested in it. I'm just thankful the used bookstore only wanted $3.00 for it.

So why is this a good turn of events for writers? Because if Herzog could publish this doggeral, there is hope for all of us.

Now, what should I do with this book? I cannot give it to friends, and I certainly do not want it taking up space in my library. I will most likely donate this to a thrift store with this review tucked away within its pages.

A Review of Thom Ryng’s The King in Yellow

The King in Yellow is a fictitious play that featured in the short stories of Robert W. Chambers (1865-1933). In the stories, the play, written by an unknown French author in the late 1800s, drives its readers to despair and madness upon reading the second act.

No definite principles had been violated in those wicked pages, no doctrine promulgated, no convictions outraged. It could not be judged by any known standard, yet, although it was acknowledged that the supreme note of art had been struck in The King in Yellow, all felt that human nature could not bear the strain nor thrive on words in which the essence of purest poison lurked. The very banality and innocence of the first act only allowed the blow to fall afterwards with more awful effect. (From Chamber’s short story, The Repairer of Reputations)

Any author’s effort to recreate the play would automatically fail. There is no author so talented as to write a play that would drive its reader insane, but I have been impressed with two attempts. James Blish attempted to create the play in his short story, More Light, and Lin Carter followed his lead in his own short story, The King In Yellow: A Tragedy in Verse building on Blish’s attempt.

In 1996, author Thom Ryng released his own interpretation of The King in Yellow and in 1999 produced the play at the Capital Theater in Olympia, Washington.

I would have dearly loved to see this play, especially to see how Ryng adapted some of his stage commands such as the slow melting of the palace colonnades in Act 1 as well as describing the voice of the Phantom of Truth (His voice is insistent and grating, almost buzzing like the sound of insects in the night).

And as a script to be read and enjoyed, Ryng does a good job. Though not as ethereal and mystical as the attempts by Blish and Carter, the appearance of the Stranger and the final appearance of the King in Yellow carry with them a clear sense of otherworldliness and the play communicates clearly the message implied by Robert Chamber though I confess finishing the second act did not drive me into madness and despair. Or at least I do not think it did.

It would be interesting to see how the H. P.Lovecraft Historical Society would interpret Ryng’s play, but it is my opinion it would fail as a film. Possibly an audiobook that left the scenery and cast appearances to the imagination of the listener would be far more effective, but I genuinely believe Ryng’s play would be best suited for anime. The animators would be able to capture all the stage commands visually and Japanese anime has always been effective in portraying atmospheres that are horrific and foreboding.

Until then, we will be content with Ryng’s script and hope for bigger things.

You can purchase The King in Yellow, by Thom Ryng here.

You can read Chambers' series of short stories legally here (they are in the public domain).

The Sea Was A Fair Master, by Calvin Demmer: A Review

The Sea Was A Fair Master, by Calvin Demmer is a collection of 23 short stories known as flash fiction, ranging from horror to dark fantasy. The collection, released this year, is a hodgepodge of quality, some with rather predictable endings to stories that are jaw-dropping in their vision and presentation.

I agree with author Gwendolyn Kiste who states in her introduction to Demmer's collection that flash fiction is not easy to write, but I respectfully disagree with her observation that horror is uniquely suited for flash and that, in the horror genre, there are no rules. Horror is not easy to write and has never been. Careless writers only end up with gore fests and in the flash format, it is to easy to end up with a shaggy dog story where the ending becomes contrived and predictable. There are rules that help the writer not to fall into such traps.

There are a few of Demmler's stories that, though not bad, seem rather awkward and would have done well with a serious rewrite and a slightly longer word count, but let me tell you about the stories that are downright magical:

• On The Seventh Day is the collection's opening story about a ship's captain and his crew that cheat the sea of its vengeance. This is a story that stays with you.
• Yara is about an android who is more human than her creator and the ending of the story is perfection and speaks directly to the heart.
• The Sea Was a Fair Master, the title story of the collection, is a hard story to label and it is probably best that way. For this reviewer, it spoke of how war changes us all and not for the better.
• Not Suicide tells a tale about the power of love that transcends death.
• Graves may have a predictable ending, but the journey toward it is worth the trip. 

All in all, the collection is a passable way to spend an evening for the horror fan. There is enough blood and gore to satisfy those who like their fiction a little more visceral (Restroom Finds, The One, Trashcan Sam, and Hangman are some of the notable ones), but there are other gems within the collection.

For this reviewer, when Demmler writes simple horror, his prose is passable, but when he writes of the matters of the human heart, even its darker aspects, he comes close to wearing the mantle of a Ray Bradbury.

Just In Time for Thanksgiving: A Medieval Recipe

Just In Time for Thanksgiving: A Medieval Recipe

Yesterday, while haunting the crowded aisles of a local thrift store, I was able to rescue a cookbook that struck my fancy. Lorna J. Sass' To The King's Taste, is a compilation of various medieval cookbooks that were used in the court of England's Richard II (AD 1367 - 1400). I immediately saw it was a fascinating treatise and as the thrift store is notorious for shredding books and making money from the recycled paper, I snatched it up and will be sending it to a friend who is involved in the Society for Creative Anachronism (SCA).

The cookbook contains some fascinating modern translations of various dishes that were literally fit to set before a king, comestibles with such fascinating names as Perrey of Peson (an exotic and sweetly flavored pea soup), Sawse Madame (a goose stuffed with garlic, fruit, and herbs), Tart de Brymlent (fruit and salmon pie), Aquapatys (boiled garlic), and Sambocade (elderflower cheesecake).

The work also goes into trivia about medieval meals such as Richard II's castle having a hearth big enough to roast an entire ox, and exotic spices were brought from very far corners of the world such as ginger, sandalwood, pepper, galingale, and a spice called cubeb, a small berry from Java that has a distinct flavor reminiscent of a cross between pepper and allspice.

However, for your upcoming Thanksgiving feast, or any feast in general, allow me to share with you one recipe from the book that sounds tantalizing: Connynge in Cyrip, better known as ...

I very much wish to try this dish, but I will attempt it with chicken instead of rabbit. By the bye, the 1/2 teaspoon of finely ground cubebs will most likely be difficult, if not impossible, to find. Instead, substitute 1/4 teaspoon of finely ground pepper and 1/4 teaspoon of finely ground allspice.

And for those poor souls that lack the time, finances, or expertise to tackle such an exotic dish, allow me to regale you with a medieval dish made specifically for peasants:

LOEWEN'S D*MN GOOD GRUEL

by Alan Loewen

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Imagine serving your family Loewen's D*mn Good Gruel this evening, sweeping into your dining room in a swirl of skirts and saying, "Tonight, we're all going to eat like pathetic, medieval peasants." and plopping tasty gruel into the earthenware bowls before them.

Well, this recipe is an authentic gruel recipe and is exactly how poor peasants lived under the crushing boots of their feudal overlords.

LOEWEN'S D*MN GOOD GRUEL

(serves 1 pathetic peasant)

1. Boil 1 pint of water.
2. While coming to a boil, mix 4 heaping tablespoons of the flour of your choice (wheat, rye, cornmeal) into COLD water, making a paste.
3. When the water comes to a boil, add the paste and stir.
4. Throw in a handful of raisins (we may be pathetic, but we ain't masochists)
5. Add a dash of salt to taste.
6. Reduce to simmer and cook for 8 to 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
7. Serve with the sweetener of your choice to taste, and nutmeg and/or cinnamon. (Milk, soy milk, or rice milk is optional).

Now everybody knows that a good meal must have a good presentation, so it's best to give everybody a cue card with authentic medieval peasant conversation as follows:

• Now this is d*mn good gruel
• We (burned/hung/rode out of town on a rail) a (witch/Puritan/Popist) at (work/school) today.
• Scurvy? Let me tell you about scurvy!
• I'm so glad that gruel doesn't require teeth.
• I made 3 pence begging in front of the church today!
• You know, modern science says that demons are behind all headaches.
• Today, Old Lady Henicle turned me into a newt!
• The plague only took two of our neighbors today! 

Yes, I am a sick puppy, but the recipe does work as I've tried it and it does taste rather good, thank you very much.

Christian Horror: On the Compatibility of a Biblical Worldview and the Horror Genre: A Review

Author Mike Duran is not one to shy away from exploring controversy. As an avid reader of his Facebook posts, Mike also has his own blog and he is well equipped to address the issues closest to his heart. Yesterday, I completed one of Mike’s rare nonfiction books, Christian Horror: On the Compatibility of a Biblical Worldview and the Horror Genre, a lengthy analysis of a genre rejected off-hand by most Christians as being a legitimate expression of artistic creativity. Nonetheless, there is a growing cadre of Christian authors who are tackling horror in its many forms including myself and the book was a breath of fresh air compared to the criticism so often leveled at people of faith who read or write in the horror field. 

Mike’s five chapters cover a number of topics starting with religious themes within horror as well as horror themes within religion. Jumping to an exploration of evangelical Christian culture and its relationship to literary and cinematic horror, Mike ends his book with an apologetic explaining his definition of Christian horror and then tackles in the final chapter several popular objections to what some consider the oxymoron: Christian horror. Along the way, he explores the work and philosophies of Stephen King, H. P. Lovecraft, Arthur Machen, Dean Koontz, and others like Ted Dekker and Frank Peretti. 

The result is a satisfying apologetic for those of us who write in the horror genre, but also written with a maturity to understand that there are pitfalls and dangers for the Christian artist regardless of their chosen field.

The Big Grey Man of Ben MacDhui: Myth or Monster: A Review

First published in 1970 and then republished with a new Foreward in 1989, Affleck Gray’s The Big Grey Man of Ben MacDhui: Myth or Monster is an exploration of the supposed entity that haunts Scotland’s second highest peak in the Cairngorms, a mountain range in the eastern Highlands of Scotland. 

The late Affleck Gray is certainly qualified to discuss the subject. A mountaineer, a historian, an author, and a former forester and landscape consultant, Gray was born in the shadows of the mountain range and has wandered its crags and ridges starting when he was twelve years of age. 

Starting his book with an encounter with the Big Grey Man of Ben MacDhui by Professor Norman Collie in 1891, we are asked if the entity is a real creature, a ghost, or the result of the human mind overstressed from exertion, high altitude, and solitude interpreting natural phenomenon as a visit from some guardian of the Scottish highlands. 

Examining report after report of supernatural encounters with the entity, sometimes seen, sometimes only heard, the reader is taken on a tour of the lonely peaks and introduced to the typography and wildlife of the Cairngorm range. Odd natural phenomena such as optical illusions are explored and Gray leaves no stone unturned in his quest for answers, even exploring the theories of those who try to interpret the Big Grey Man as a member of fairie or even an extraterrestrial visitor. 

In the end, Gray reveals his own thoughts that the encounters are merely misinterpretations of natural occurrences, but the experiences he relates from other climbers make one wonder if there may actually be something else roaming the slopes and peak of Ben MacDhui. 

In spite of Gray’s more materialistic explanation, too many climbers, too many witnesses leave the reader wondering just how much Affleck Gray’s skepticism may be based more on his lack of an encounter with the Big Grey Man than the numerous eye witness reports. It’s left up to the reader to make his or her own decision.

The Tales of Inspector Legrasse, by H. P. Lovecraft and C. J. Henderson: A Critique

In 1928, Weird Tales magazine published H. P. Lovecraft’s most well-known short story, The Call of Cthulhu, that featured as a minor character a New Orleans police official, John Raymond Legrasse. 

In 2005, horror writer C. J. Henderson released a collection of six short stories revolving around the continuing adventures of the police inspector. Together, The Tales of Inspector Legrasse form a braided novel, each story illuminating Legrasse’s struggle to maintain both his sanity and purpose as he works with others to thwart the imminent destruction of the world. 

The collection starts off with Lovecraft’s seminal work, The Call of Cthulhu, when in 1908 Legrasse asks attendees of an anthropological society meeting to identify a statuette of unidentifiable greenish-black stone. The description is that of the famous Old One, Cthulhu:

The figure, which was finally passed slowly from man to man for close and careful study, was between seven and eight inches in height, and of exquisitely artistic workmanship. It represented a monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind. This thing, which seemed instinct with a fearsome and unnatural malignancy, was of a somewhat bloated corpulence, and squatted evilly on a rectangular block or pedestal covered with undecipherable characters. The tips of the wings touched the back edge of the block, the seat occupied the centre, whilst the long, curved claws of the doubled-up, crouching hind legs gripped the front edge and extended a quarter of the way down towards the bottom of the pedestal. The cephalopod head was bent forward, so that the ends of the facial feelers brushed the backs of huge fore-paws which clasped the croucher's elevated knees. The aspect of the whole was abnormally lifelike, and the more subtly fearful because its source was so totally unknown. Its vast, awesome, and incalculable age was unmistakable; yet not one link did it show with any known type of art belonging to civilization's youth—or indeed to any other time. 

In the second story in the collection, Patiently Waiting, Inspector Legrasse returns to New Orleans to discover the ritual he and his men interrupted some months earlier was a preliminary to a final rite that will truly destroy the world. The rest of the stories continue Legrasse’s adventures along with compatriots he has picked up in his journeys until their research eventually leads them to a wind-swept glacier in the Himalayas where they have their final conflict with those who would bring Cthulhu back into the world. 

The stories are very well written with the exception of the third story of the collection, To Cast Out Fear. Though Henderson introduces two important characters (one very reminiscent of Doctor Strange), the message of the piece on how love can undermine the plans of the Old Ones as they do not understand it seems saccharin and very much out of place, a philosophy once stated is never referred to ever again even though it appears to be a potent weapon. In spite of that literary hiccup, the collection is a masterpiece of Henderson’s writing where he takes a minor character of Lovecraft's fiction and makes it his own.

Cats In Space: A Review

Cats in Space is an anthology of seven short stories about, as the title makes very clear, cats in space. Of course, though some might be typical cats (C. L. Holland’s Miss Davenport’s Ugly Cat), others are aliens in feline form (Star Born, Star Bound, by Dantzel Cherry and Distant Cousins, by Jody Lynn Nye), genetically engineered cats (Beth Cato’s Headspace), and other intriguing variations. The atmosphere of the stories range from the humorous (Phase Change, by Joy Kennedy-O’Neill) to the tragic (A Slow Constant Path, by Erica L. Satifka) and even to the horrific (Leona R. Wisoker’s faint nod to John Carpenter’s The Thing in her story, Leftovers).

Cat lovers will find many a satisfying tale about our feline friends in futuristic fantasies. With only 93 pages, it can easily satisfy an evening’s literary demands.

Cats in Space is edited by Elektra Hammond and published by Dr. Lawrence M. Schoen’s publishing house, Paper Golem, LLC.

Goldlust, by A.R. Mitchell: A Review

Goldlust is a collection of short stories from A. R. Mitchell, a collection of tales that pay homage to the golden age of the pulps when the characters and the stories they appeared in were bigger than life.

The opening tale, Goldlust and the one immediately following are both timeslip stories where the protagonists suddenly find themselves in another time, but the locales and tropes quickly change to stories of science fiction (an eerie and unsettling tale entitled Remember Me), post-apocalyptic drama (Armageddon’s Grace) and others spanning numerous times and locations.

Many of the stories are too short leaving the reader wishing they had been expanded into novels, but for this reviewer, some of the real gems besides the aforementioned Remember Me are:

Forty Eight Lashes that introduces a private investigator who discovers his wife of six months holds a secret that drives her to self-destructive acts.

A policeman in Love and Shotguns gives advice to a lovelorn young man.

The Outlaws of Sawdust tells the two-fisted Old West tale of a young cowgirl trailing down a gang of train robbers who stole her five dollars.

In Reliquary of Fear a renegade archeologist undergoes an involuntary rite of passage in a pagan Mayan temple.

It is hoped by this reviewer to see Mitchell expand her tales into at least novella-length stories. These twenty tales are proof she has the talent.

Goldlust in paperback can be purchased here.

Goldlust for Kindle can be purchased here.

A.R. Mitchell's blog can be found here.

And Now Good-Bye, by James Hilton: A Review

James Hilton (1900-1954) is best known as the author of Lost Horizon, and Goodbye, Mr. Chips, but I did not recognize his name when I picked up a hardback with his name and the title, And Now Good-Bye. Published in 1931, two years before he published Lost Horizon and put the name, Shangri-La into the common vernacular, the copy I found was printed in 1932 by William Morrow and Company, Inc. and the pages are brittle and yellowed with age.

As a writer of dark fantasy, this slice-of-life story appealed to me only because the protagonist was one Rev. Howat Freemantle, a clergyman. The opening prologue tells of his heroism when the London train he was a passenger on derailed. He jumped from his passenger car and running to the one that had overturned and on fire, he saved five lives, dragging them from the wreckage even though his hands and arms endured terrible burns.

After that dramatic prologue that includes the story of  his nervous breakdown the resulting recovery and the heroic welcome he received when he returns to his impoverished, middle-class, and fictional village of Browdley, the novel starts detailing the good Reverend's week before the train accident.

I enjoyed the book only because I too am an ordained member of the clergy and I was surprised to read that the travails of the clergy in Great Britain between the two World Wars mirrored mine exactly, almost 90 years later. Unfortunately, the ending left a very bad figurative taste in my mouth. The solution to his problems are not ones that are held in high admiration and we discover that his reasons for his heroic behavior are not so altruistic as first thought. The book then reveals itself to be a tragedy.

Nonetheless, I am glad I took the time to read the novel. I’m well aware the trope of the morally flawed clergyman has been done to death to the point that if I am reading a mystery or other genre novel that contains a member of the clergy, I already know who the bad guy is. However, in Hilton’s day and age, the trope was still fresh and, therefore, adds a more shocking dénouement to the work. Able to put myself in the mind of a reader that would have read the book during the early 1930s, I can appreciate how Hilton constructed the tale. In addition, I always like to read outside my comfort zone. And Now Good-Bye is not a genre novel by any stretch of the imagination, but the benefit of reading a viewpoint from another time and another culture is priceless.

I started keeping track of books that I completed and since August 5, 2010, And Now Good-Bye is book #232 and my fourteenth completed book for 2016.

The Raven Series, by Richard Kirk: A Review

In mid-2014, I picked up a fantasy book entitled Raven: Swordmistress of Chaos for a quarter at a used bookstore and finished it on August 11. I would have stopped there, but I discovered to my delight that the author, Robert Kirk, was merely a house name for the writing team of Angus Wells (1943-2006) and Robert Holdstock (1948-2009). Though I confess I am not familiar with Wells, Holdstock was the author of Mythago Wood, one of my top five literary fantasies of all time. With that tidbit of information, I made the decision to read the entire series.

The next three books in the series were gifts from Eric Hinkle, a friend of mine who shares my interest in fantasy and is a wonderful writer in his own right, and I devoured them as soon as he found them and sent them to me. The first book in the series was written by both Wells and Holdstock as a team, but the second and fourth books were the sole works of Holdstock, while Wells worked solo on the third and final book in the series.

I polished off Raven: A Time of Ghosts on November 24, 2014 and then had to wait five months for the next book in the series: Raven: The Frozen God (April 28, 2015). The fourth book followed quickly:  Raven: Lords of the Shadows (July 20, 2015) and this morning I finished Raven: A Time of Dying. From start to finish, as the books (which are out of print) were acquired, it took me a total of of 1 year, 7 months and 24 days to finish the series.

One side note before I continue: Ignore the cover art as displayed above. Wells and Holdstock know their stuff and though the series is clearly R-rated, Raven is first and foremost a warrior. When she walks around, she is fully armored.

Though written for a male audience and though the books are clearly a product of the late 1970s, toward the end of the series, Wells and Holdstock found their respective voices and broke free of the chainmail bikini mindset into one that began to explore the greater themes of purpose and free will.

The first book was pure pulp, but in the final book, Wells almost touched more upon epic fantasy with lyrical writing that was not present in the opening volumes. And unfortunately, there is no more. The series ends with none of the larger questions answered.

The entire series is narrated by Spellbinder, half human and half mage, trained in the magical arts by the mages of Kharwan, an island in the middle of the sea that is concealed and protected by magic. In the books, he wanders a world that has lost almost all vestiges of civilization and though in the series, he is Raven's tutor/lover/bodyguard, he walks the world alone speaking of Raven in the past tense. His hand is heavily bandaged and the implication is that it was badly maimed by a friend, but the series ends with none of these questions answered. It simply ends.

And unfortunately, we will know no more. Both Wells and Holdstock have unfortunately passed away and it is clear that Ace Publishing never had any desire to continue the series after the fifth book. So we will never know why the mages of Kharwan chose Raven, a former slave, to be their Worldchanger, the ultimate agent of Chaos, or why they even meddled in the affairs of the world to begin with. The post-apocalyptic world in which Spellbinder wanders telling his tales to anyone willing to listen is certainly not the end the mages strove for. We will never learn whatever happened to Raven herself or her other companions, Gondar Lifebane, the pirate, or Argor, outlaw and leader of a band of mercenary horsemen.

And though the Raven series is not high fantasy in any understanding of the genre, I confess I feel cheated as a reader. A series should come to an end that brings a modicum of satisfaction, so instead, I will simply ponder the mysteries of what might have happened and move on.

The world is full of books and there is never enough time to read a good tale.

How to Write a Sentence: A Review

Crafting a review on a book about writing and appreciating sentences becomes a challenge as one has to use sentences themselves. In the light of Stanley Fish’s excellent book, the impulse to construct each sentence of the review as a pristine gem becomes overwhelming. So if I may pervert Gustave Flaubert’s complaint, I fear this review “is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.”

Authors often hear the advice to ignore individual sentences in favor of the total work whether story or essay. I believe Stanley Fish would disagree strongly. A building is composed of individual bricks and though it may be a beautiful edifice, if the bricks are rotten, the building cannot last. A gourmet meal may look appealing as a whole, but if each individual bite is a torment, it matters not the aesthetics of the table setting. A literary work is composed of individual sentences put together in a systemic manner that build up the structure, but are also strong enough to stand on their own.

In How to Write a Sentence and How to Read One, Fish leads us on a tour de force of sentence structure looking at structure and style as well as the importance of the first and last sentences. His examples are a true delight. Yet, this is not a mechanical “How to…” like Strunk and White’s seminal work. A human being is composed of more than bones and internal organs and a sentence carries within itself its own type of metaphysical wonder that appeals to the heart as well as the mind. In its own way, Fish’s work is a love letter to the simple sentence.

However, do not think it an easy read. For such a short book, there is amazing depth here. I found myself rereading several passages several times to make sure I grasped what Fish was communicating.

The bottom line is that I believe reading Stanley Fish’s inspirational work will make me a better writer as well as a better reader.

The Jersey Devil: A Review

Published by The Middle Atlantic Press in 1976.

With well over 60,000 copies in print in a myriad number of editions, James F. McCloy's and Ray Miller, Jr's work on New Jersey's most famous bogey is the predominate study on the Jersey Devil.

Starting with the conflicting tales of the Jersey Devil's origin, the core of the book is the third chapter with a detailed description of the events of January16-23, 1909 when New Jersey and the surrounding area erupted with dozens of Jersey Devil sightings.

Though a number of sightings could be attributed to hoaxes or hysteria, the authors have provided maps showing the majority of sightings follow a logical, linear path. Whatever it was that terrified the citizenry that week, leaving footprints and dead and wounded livestock and pets in its wake, it was certainly real.

A number of skeptics claim the creature people claimed to be the Jersey Devil was actually a Sandhill crane (Grus canadensis), but that takes too great a step of faith. New Jersey is not included in the proper range of the bird and it winters far south from the areas in which the sightings took place. Though the size and general shape of the Sandhill crane does mimic the size and shape of the Devil as reported by eye witnesses, why did none of the witnesses use the phrase "a large bird" in any of the reports? With all the people that saw the creature, you would think somebody would recognize a large bird and as the Great Blue Heron is native to New Jersey, they had a similar example for comparison.

Some people think the witnesses mistook this bird for a monster.

I do not claim to know what it was the good people of New Jersey saw that week, but to claim they mistook a bird for a creature out of a fever dream is incredibly insulting. If anyone is interested in what I believe is the only realistic explanation of high strangeness, I would encourage the reader to study the works of the late John Keel and his theory of "ultraterrestrials."

Note: On August 5, 2010, I started logging the books I read to completion; The Jersey Devil is #222 on the list.

Steampunk Cthulhu: Mythos Terror in the Age of Steam: A Review

As a reader of anthologies as well as a writer who has been published in a number of them, I can say that for those whom the gods (Elder Gods?) destroy, they first make them an anthology editor. Far too many anthologies suffer from a number of ailments such as stories that do not necessarily fit the theme or are very uneven in quality, or the editor's ego gets in the way of final product.

I picked up Steampunk Cthulhu: Mythos Terror in the Age of Steam, edited by Brain M. Sammons and Glynn Owen Barass with a shrug, fully expecting the typical anthology with its typical flaws and I can say with unequivocal delight that I struck a gold mine.

The 17 stories collected here are mostly very high quality tales where the authors do the very difficult: combine the myriad aspects of the Chtulhu Mythos within the steampunk genre and make it look flawlessly easy.

Those Above by Jeffrey Thomas takes place in a world where the sky above is filled with an eldritch horror that feeds on dreams and steampunk technology appears to have come to the rescue of the hapless humans that live below. At least that is what appears to be the case.

The Blackwold Horror by Adam Bolivar tells of a folklorist traveling to England's West Country to research its tales and legends and spends a frightful night with the host and staff of Blackwold Abbey.

No Hand to Turn the Key by Carrie Cuinn tells the tale of an alternate future where humanity has been wiped out by Mythos horrors leaving only automatons behind to defend what remains of Earth's human legacy. The result is a touching tale of sacrifice and hope in the face of overwhelming odds.

The Reverend Mr. Goodworks & the Yeggs of Yig by Edward M. Erdelac is the story of a traveling preacher who is more steam-powered automaton than human as he seeks to rid the American Old West of a cult that has taken root in the town of New Valusia, a cult bent on world domination.

Carnacki – The Island of Doctor Munroe  revisits the occult world of detective Thomas Carnacki, first created by English fantasy writer, William Hope Hodgson. Other writers have expanded on Hodgson's creation, but author, William Meikle, has remained true to the Carnacki tropes while  avoiding the stale creation of a pastiche.

Pain Wears No Mask by John Goodrich is a fascinating tale of several air pirates determined to steal the Crown Jewels that are kept on board the airship of England's reigning monarch. It is a tale of greed and corruption and The King in Yellow.

Before the Least of These Stars by Lee Clark Zumpe is a beautifully crafted tale of a man trapped out of time in a world where humanity is under attack by the Old Ones from the sea.

The Promised Messiah by D.J. Tyrer revisits the world of the King in Yellow. An inventor has created a machine that writes poetry. In his home, he has invented a machine that channels horror.

Unfathomable by Christine Morgan is a story of an advanced steam-powered submarine with a worthy crew of sailors and scientists sailing to retrieve a meteor that has fallen in the ocean. It is something far, far worse.

The Flower by Christopher M. Geeson is a tragic retelling of the American Civil War with steampunk weapons and a historical twist that puts the tale solidly in Lovecraft's mythos.

Tentacular Spectacular by Thana Niveau is an odd and horrific tale about corsets. That's all I'm going to say.

Fall of an Empire by Glynn Owen Barrass & Brian M. Sammons is a sprawling tale starting with a female thief worthy of her own series. After her failure to achieve her objective, the story flashes ahead a few years where a Lovecraftian horror is now ruling the world through the British Empire. Unless three rebels bring its reign of horror to a close, humanity has no future remaining.

The Baying of the Hounds by Leigh Kimmel unites Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla as they team up to bring the world back to normal after one of Tesla's experiments goes horribly wrong.

Mr Brass & the City of Devils by Josh Reynolds is the story of a Pinkerton detective who is more automaton than human and his urgent mission to stop a cult from unleashing a world of horror upon the Earth. In the tale we revisit the Mi-Go, the creature from Robert Bloch's, The Shambler from the Stars, and the ghostly reptilian race from Lovecraft's, The Nameless City.

The Source by D.L. Snell tells the tale of Corwin Carroll, an inventor of steampunk weapons for the armies of the American Revolution. However, he learns that inquisitiveness and the drive to invent without thinking out the repercussions has a price.

Happy Birthday, Dear Cthulhu by Robert Neilson is a story of another weapons manufacturer who discovers that Mythos horrors make great fuel for his steampunk creations. But somebody else wants his discovery for themselves and they are more than willing to kill for it.

The Strange Company by Pete Rawlik is the last story and a hodgepodge reminiscent of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen using multiple characters across the Mythos tales.

All in all, if you like steampunk and you like tales of the Cthulhu Mythos, Sammons and Barass have done a superb job in putting this anthology together. It appears they have partnered for others with the blessing of Chaosium Press and I look forward to their future offerings.

Dogtown: Death and Enchantment in a New England Ghost Town: A Review

Part travelogue, part autobiography, and part true crime story, Alyssa East has managed to write a book about an obscure part of the Massachusetts coast that is both fascinating and intriguing.

East writes about a 3,000-acre woodland that attracts all sorts of eccentric personalities and writes in such a manner, she gives Dogtown, as the woodland is known, an eccentric personality of its own. Though filled with anecdotes and folklore, the book has at its core a true-life murder mystery that occurred in 1984, changing Dogtown and those whose lives are interwoven with it.

As we follow the story of the crime and the ultimate arrest, trial, and conviction of the murderer, we learn more about Dogtown's history, ecology and genius loci.

All in all, a fascinating and enjoyable read.

The Lost Level: A Review

Brian Keene is best known for being a writer of graphic horror and though I am not a fan of splatterpunk, I am an avid reader of Keene because he writes his characters with great poignancy, presenting them as fully fleshed human beings instead of existing for the sheer purpose of being nothing but monster chow. In addition, Keene has created an elaborate mythos he has named the Labyrinth that ties all his novels and stories together. As a result, his universe is not only huge, but is just as elaborate and fascinating as the Cthulhu Mythos first dreamed up by the Old Gentleman from Providence.

In The Lost Level, Keene tries his hand at another genre and his foray in pulp fiction results in a satisfying read that entertains and is worth another reading.

Aaron Pace is a young student of the occult who gains the ability to travel the Labyrinth that connects all parallel universes and individual worlds within those universes. His fascination and exploration unfortunately traps him in an oubliette, a world with only one entrance and no exit. Known as the Lost Level, it serves as the dumping grounds of all the parallel universes that connect to the Labyrinth. People and objects that have mysteriously disappeared in our world and others end up in The Lost Level, a world of such danger that survival is only remotely possible. In his wanderings, Aaron gathers two companions, a barbarian princess and a creature that is mostly an anthropomorphic cat with a prehensile tail. In their adventures, they encounter all sorts of wonders and horrors such as piranha birds, giant amoebas, dinosaurs, large metal killer robots and other challenges that allow Keene to let loose his full range of imagination.

My only disappointment is, and I say this with great respect, is that Keene needs an editor. In chapter 12, Aaron waxes eloquent on women's liberation that detracts from the story and appears to be nothing more than the author's attempt to use his narrative as a pulpit. Also, in a world of such horror with danger at every corner, when we are introduced to "the soft valley" the sheer silliness of its existence may have seemed cute, but so nonsensical that it acted as a huge interruption to the narrative. An editor would also have steered Keene to a more satisfying ending other than the sheer info dump that is the final chapter.

Other than that, as well as some other minor hiccups that an editor would have caught, Keene's foray into adventure pulp fiction is entertaining enough that, for this reviewer, I will make sure I pick up the next two books in the trilogy.