(no subject)
Sep. 19th, 2009 01:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joysilence posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
darkling_talesAfter all those reviews of pre-war ghost story collections, I think it's time for something a bit more modern! I've just finished The Faculty Of Terror by the contemporary British author John L Probert. The book's structure is a homage to the 'portmanteau' horror films that the studio Amicus (Hammer's main rival) used to churn out in the 70s, such as Vault of Horror and Tales From The Crypt. It consists of six stand-alone stories, each told by a different guest at a big dinner party held at an unnamed British university (probably a 'red brick', by the sound of it.) The hero in this framing device, Paul Dearden, hears each of these ghastly tales in turn and then finally submits one of his own.
There is quite a mix of story types here. The first story, 'Overtime', is a straight-up piece of modern horror set in that most apt of locations, a University departmental office. Anyone who's ever encountered the hellbitches that people such places will delight in the treatment meted out to some of the secretaries, and the story has a couple of smart twists. There seems to be a glut of 'workplace horror' fiction coming out at the moment, and 'Overtime' is a decent enough example of this. The horror centres around the real (with lots of gore and torture and human evil) rather than the supernatural, which tends to dampen my enthusiasm for a story, but if you like that sort of thing, it's definitely the sort of thing you'd like.
I found the second story, 'Asphyx In Glass', far more interesting. The understated tale of a rather lost young man whose attention is caught one day by a weird window in a disused factory, through which he can see a writhing, serpentine shape. He naturally ends up breaking into the building to investigate, and predictably ends up in a heap of trouble, but the nature of the trouble itself is really quite original and compelling. Amicus fans will doubtless seize upon the reference to the film 'The Asphyx' (which I've never seen, but will be hunting for now!) I liked the way a small, personal tragedy blossoms into a huge clash of good versus evil. I found some of the language used by one of the characters a little stilted and Biblical, but that's a very small quibble.
Next comes 'Family Affair', in my opinion the weakest story in the book. Admittedly, I'm biased about medical horror (of which this is a full-blooded, gruesome example) because I've seen enough of it in real life, and tussled with enough horrible doctors, to want a break from that sort of thing when I open a book! The best you can say about this story (about a pair of Westcountry gangster brothers fighting each other by damaging each other's womenfolk) is that it doles out the gore generously enough to fulfil the promise of the first couple of pages. Fortunately, the fourth story 'Set in Stone' is much more enjoyable to the fan of supernatural fiction. The jacket blurb about 'a cottage in the Wye valley whose walls are soaked with blood' brings to mind a Hammer Horror film, but in fact this isn't just another case of blood inexplicably pouring down walls. It's much more interesting than that. The heroine Rachel and her husband are renovating their new home in the countryside (whose previous occupant died there) but when they try to strip the odd-looking, bumpy wall-paper from the sitting-room they discover what appears to be a painting underneath. Why has it been covered over? The answer to this question takes the reader deep into one of the nastier recesses of history, as Rachel tries to put the pin back into an ancient evil. While the story uses many well-worn tropes of supernatural fiction, it does so in an effortless, unselfconscious way, and I personally enjoyed the echoes of M R James' definitive 'evil picture' story 'The Mezzotint'. The ending takes the story in a different, more unusual direction closer to pure psychological horror, though I can't really say more without giving it away! Along with 'The Asphyx', 'Set in Stone' is my favourite story of the collection.
The fifth tale, 'States of The Art', is deliberately more upbeat, resembling an old episode of Doctor Who. Lots of running along corridors gets done as a pair of psychic detectives investigate a painting in an art gallery that appears to be a portal to a terrifying, baffling world. It's quite a headf*ck towards the end, and there are a few laughs and a soupcon of romance to lighten things up, all of which I thoroughly disapproved of, as you can imagine ;) It was actually alright, just not my sort of thing really. At least it wasn't steampunk. The hero's own tale, 'The Kreutzenberg Sonata', is a very nasty affair involving a shabby little musical instrument shop whose proprietor promises to make Paul's dreams of revenge come true when he stumbles through the door. There are several lurid killings involving unusual murder weapons(Probert cites the giallo films of the 70s as a major source of inspiration here), but for me the most frightening parts of the story were the little details, especially the sinister instruments in the shop that are only described in passing but which make the reader both curious and reluctant to know more!) It's also the most gripping of the stories on a psychological level, investigating the dangers and seductive lure of revenge and the turmoil of those who seek it.
After the last of the stories has been told, the framing device culminates in possibly the most doom-laden finale in a book full of doom-laden finales. However, there is an inkling of hope in the darkness as Paul finds out what the Faculty really has in store for him, and why he has been invited there.
Priced at around £7, The Faculty of Terror gives the reader their money's worth of frights and surprises. It also contains an unusual amount of chatty extra material from the author, who talks at some length about his inspirations, especially from the world of film. I found his discussion of horror film soundtrack with Gary Fry (owner of Grayfriar Press) especially interesting. We also learn that Probert is a big-shot researcher and textbook author in the field of urology. Speaking as someone who's had a painfully malfunctioning urethra for the past five years, I can say with confidence that if I ever manage to collar Probert at a convention, he'll really learn the meaning of the term 'medical horror' as I pour out the long and dreary tale of my pathology ;) But I think that's enough about me. Finally, Zach MacCain deserves a special mention for his fine cover illustrations, though beware! If you look at them too carefully before the book is read, they'll give away details of the stories!
There is quite a mix of story types here. The first story, 'Overtime', is a straight-up piece of modern horror set in that most apt of locations, a University departmental office. Anyone who's ever encountered the hellbitches that people such places will delight in the treatment meted out to some of the secretaries, and the story has a couple of smart twists. There seems to be a glut of 'workplace horror' fiction coming out at the moment, and 'Overtime' is a decent enough example of this. The horror centres around the real (with lots of gore and torture and human evil) rather than the supernatural, which tends to dampen my enthusiasm for a story, but if you like that sort of thing, it's definitely the sort of thing you'd like.
I found the second story, 'Asphyx In Glass', far more interesting. The understated tale of a rather lost young man whose attention is caught one day by a weird window in a disused factory, through which he can see a writhing, serpentine shape. He naturally ends up breaking into the building to investigate, and predictably ends up in a heap of trouble, but the nature of the trouble itself is really quite original and compelling. Amicus fans will doubtless seize upon the reference to the film 'The Asphyx' (which I've never seen, but will be hunting for now!) I liked the way a small, personal tragedy blossoms into a huge clash of good versus evil. I found some of the language used by one of the characters a little stilted and Biblical, but that's a very small quibble.
Next comes 'Family Affair', in my opinion the weakest story in the book. Admittedly, I'm biased about medical horror (of which this is a full-blooded, gruesome example) because I've seen enough of it in real life, and tussled with enough horrible doctors, to want a break from that sort of thing when I open a book! The best you can say about this story (about a pair of Westcountry gangster brothers fighting each other by damaging each other's womenfolk) is that it doles out the gore generously enough to fulfil the promise of the first couple of pages. Fortunately, the fourth story 'Set in Stone' is much more enjoyable to the fan of supernatural fiction. The jacket blurb about 'a cottage in the Wye valley whose walls are soaked with blood' brings to mind a Hammer Horror film, but in fact this isn't just another case of blood inexplicably pouring down walls. It's much more interesting than that. The heroine Rachel and her husband are renovating their new home in the countryside (whose previous occupant died there) but when they try to strip the odd-looking, bumpy wall-paper from the sitting-room they discover what appears to be a painting underneath. Why has it been covered over? The answer to this question takes the reader deep into one of the nastier recesses of history, as Rachel tries to put the pin back into an ancient evil. While the story uses many well-worn tropes of supernatural fiction, it does so in an effortless, unselfconscious way, and I personally enjoyed the echoes of M R James' definitive 'evil picture' story 'The Mezzotint'. The ending takes the story in a different, more unusual direction closer to pure psychological horror, though I can't really say more without giving it away! Along with 'The Asphyx', 'Set in Stone' is my favourite story of the collection.
The fifth tale, 'States of The Art', is deliberately more upbeat, resembling an old episode of Doctor Who. Lots of running along corridors gets done as a pair of psychic detectives investigate a painting in an art gallery that appears to be a portal to a terrifying, baffling world. It's quite a headf*ck towards the end, and there are a few laughs and a soupcon of romance to lighten things up, all of which I thoroughly disapproved of, as you can imagine ;) It was actually alright, just not my sort of thing really. At least it wasn't steampunk. The hero's own tale, 'The Kreutzenberg Sonata', is a very nasty affair involving a shabby little musical instrument shop whose proprietor promises to make Paul's dreams of revenge come true when he stumbles through the door. There are several lurid killings involving unusual murder weapons(Probert cites the giallo films of the 70s as a major source of inspiration here), but for me the most frightening parts of the story were the little details, especially the sinister instruments in the shop that are only described in passing but which make the reader both curious and reluctant to know more!) It's also the most gripping of the stories on a psychological level, investigating the dangers and seductive lure of revenge and the turmoil of those who seek it.
After the last of the stories has been told, the framing device culminates in possibly the most doom-laden finale in a book full of doom-laden finales. However, there is an inkling of hope in the darkness as Paul finds out what the Faculty really has in store for him, and why he has been invited there.
Priced at around £7, The Faculty of Terror gives the reader their money's worth of frights and surprises. It also contains an unusual amount of chatty extra material from the author, who talks at some length about his inspirations, especially from the world of film. I found his discussion of horror film soundtrack with Gary Fry (owner of Grayfriar Press) especially interesting. We also learn that Probert is a big-shot researcher and textbook author in the field of urology. Speaking as someone who's had a painfully malfunctioning urethra for the past five years, I can say with confidence that if I ever manage to collar Probert at a convention, he'll really learn the meaning of the term 'medical horror' as I pour out the long and dreary tale of my pathology ;) But I think that's enough about me. Finally, Zach MacCain deserves a special mention for his fine cover illustrations, though beware! If you look at them too carefully before the book is read, they'll give away details of the stories!
