Posts Tagged ‘horror’
You probably know Frank Herbert from his masterpiece, Dune. or perhaps you are more familiar with his son, Brian Herbert, who has been involved with continuing the series. But Frank Herbert did so much more more than just epic space opera involving secretive sisterhoods and sandworms. Many of his stand alone novels took place in the present (which would have been the 1960′s and 70′s) and could be easily be considered mainstream suspense novels. When I’m at the used bookstore, if I see a copy of a Herbert I don’t own, I grab it, and rarely have I been disappointed. In my mind, Frank Herbert is a little like George R. R. Martin – sure, their famous series blow my mind every time, but I’m missing out on the bigger picture if I don’t read their other works too.
The Santaroga Barrier, by Frank Herbert
written in 1968
where I got it: bought used
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Something very strange is happening in a valley in Southern California. Or perhaps, it’s nothing strange at all, just a close knit, old fashioned community famous for its cheese production. Doctor Gilbert Dasein of the Psychology department of the University of California has been sent to the Santaroga Valley. It is true that he’s hoping to patch things up with his ex-girlfriend Jenny, a resident of Santaroga, but Dasein has another mission, one which killed the last two men who took it on. He’s being paid to do market research and find out what exactly is going on there. Why won’t the Santarogans allow national businesses to build in their valley? Why don’t they have a single reported case of mental illness? Why doesn’t anyone ever leave the valley for good? Are they innocent survivalists? is it a cult? is it something more?
It’s not that Santaroga doesn’t like outsiders, it’s that they don’t need them. They produce plenty of their famous cheese, and they also produce everything else their residents need, from furniture and wine, to independently sourced auto parts and canned food. Most Santarogan-made products never leave the valley, and all residents work together to make everyone has enough, newlyweds have houses, and that everyone is taken care of. And everyone sure gets excited when a wheel of Jaspers Cheese is brought out.
The good news is that Gilbert does find Jenny, and they do patch things up to the point where she’d like to get married as soon as possible. But the more time Gilbert spends in the valley, the more he wants to leave and take Jenny with him. Santaroga is an odd place, to say the least. Salespeople are brutally honest about what’s wrong with the used cars in the lot. No one ever seems frustrated or depressed or angry, words between Santarogans are never misunderstood, and the smell of the famous Jaspers cheese is everywhere. And children? There’s not a single child to be seen in the valley.
- In: Franz Kafka | H.F. Arnold | Saki
- 9 Comments
Two things I’m always tempted to do: bite off more than I can chew, and read books by authors I know I like.
Taking a look at the monstrous 1000+ page Weird Compendium edited by The Vandermeer’s, it looks like I’m not the only one who enjoys biting off more than they can chew. In a podcast interview, I believe Ann Vandermeer described the exponential growth of the Weird project as “scope-creep”. With weirdness going back to 1908, the Weird Compendium is exactly that: buckets and buckets of weird stuff from all over the world, some of it translated for the first time into English.
Two birds with one stone – more opportunities to post during Vintage month, and I’m going outside my comfort zone by reading folks I’ve never heard of. Are these stories science fiction? Sort of. They’re about things that couldn’t happen, that shouldn’t happen, things we don’t want to happen, things we can’t explain. It might not be pure scifi, but it’s certainly speculative, and that’s enough for me. I’ll read stories as I have time, and post my thoughts in bundles of a few stories. Who knows, maybe we’ll all discover a new favorite old time author!
In the Penal Colony (1919), by Franz Kafka – I remember learning about Kafka in high school, but I couldn’t tell you anything definitive about him. This horror story is about a foreigner given permission to visit an island penal colony, and tasked with observing the judicial practices of the colony. None of the characters are named, everyone is referred to by a descriptive of what they do – the Traveller, the Officer, the Soldier, and the Condemned Man. The Officer, an ally of the previous Commandant, is showing off his punishment machine to The Traveller. It’s quite the machine, and the Officer is very proud of it and takes care of it lovingly. While describing how and why it works to The Traveller, the Officer reminisces about the good old days, when entire families turned out to view the executions, and young children were allowed right up close to watch the facial expressions of the slowly dying. This is a deeply horrific and disturbing story, but you simply can’t stop reading it. Not knowing enough about Kafka I’m sure I missed out on a lot of social commentary.
The Anubis Gates, by Tim Powers
published in 1983
where I got it: that one bookshelf where my favorite books are.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The short version of this review is that The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers is utterly brilliant and amazing. Aren’t sure if time travel books are your thing? Doesn’t matter, this book transcends. Aren’t sure if Tim Powers is for you? He transcends all as well, and you can learn more about him in my Why You Should be Reading Tim Powers article.
here’s the long version:
Brendan Doyle lives a remarkably boring life. An expert in the lives of the romantic poets, Doyle tracks down obscure manuscripts and gets papers published in even more obscure literary magazines. When he flies to London to meet with wealthy yet eccentric J. Cochran Darrow, Doyle’s in it for the money. this crazy old guy wants to pay Doyle a million dollars to give an hour lecture about Samuel Taylor Coleridge to a dinner party? No problem. that money will go a long way towards Doyle’s research of an obscure poet who was in London around the same time as Coleridge, William Ashbless.
Except it’s not just any dinner party, and this isn’t just any old rich guy. J. Cochran Darrow has discovered how to jump through time. Brendan will give his lecture, answer a few questions, and then entire group, Darrow, Brendan, and the guests, will travel through time to 1810 see Coleridge himself. Everything must be timing perfectly, as these breaks in the river of time are sometimes only open for a few hours.
The only predictable scene happens when the time travel jump is successful, everything is going swimmingly, and suddenly Doyle gets separated from the group and is left behind in 1810. Abandoned, yet hopeful, Doyle has a plan. He knows the exact time and date that Ashbless wrote a famous poem at a tavern in London. If Doyle can survive for a week, he can approach Ashbless and hopefully work with the man. Should Doyle ever get back to modern day London, he’d be able to write the ultimate Ashbless biography.
But Darrow isn’t the only person jumping through time. A few someone elses, many hundreds of years ago, used arcane magic to open these gates in time. These ancient magicians have forsaken their connection with the earth, and wear heels, platform clogs, and even spring heeled shoes to keep their flesh as far from the Earth as possible. Even J. Cochran Darrow has his own ulterior motives.
movie review: Prometheus
Posted on: June 11, 2012
- In: aliens | movie reviews | Ridley Scott
- 25 Comments
First things first:
Have you seen the movie yet?
do you plan to?
If your answers were “No”, and “Yes”, do not read this post. It’s cup runneth over with ridiculous quantities of snark and epically major spoilers. I suppose you could scroll all the way to the bottom and just read the last few sentences for the whole point of the post. But even that might spoil the film for you.
Ridley Scott got me a present. Something he’s been working on for a while. Something old skool Alien fans such as myself would certainly be excited about.
By “old skool Alien fans”, I mean those of us who were weaned into science fiction horror by Ellen Ripley and H.R. Giger. A series of films ripe with suspense, movies you only watch in broad daylight with all the lights on. Sure, the plots are simple (another distress call? didn’t this end really badly for the last ship that answered a distress call?), but the people were smart. They talked about what they planned to do, made contingency plans, found appropriate weapons, and they intelligently went about their business. Thanks to spot on direction and creepy sets, the suspension was through the roof. Thanks to well written dialog and plotting, the films were peppered with lighter moments and small talk, quickly giving depth to characters. This was a film franchise that was all about show instead of tell. Remember that scene with Ripley at the very end of Aliens (granted, that was one directed by James Cameron) when she’s in the nest with the queen? Not a word is spoken, and no words are needed.
So, with baited breath, I opened the gift Ridley Scott had made for me.
This is where the spoilers start, btw. You’ve been warned.
I recently reviewed Robert Jackson Bennett’s newest novel, The Troupe, and it was absolutely incredible. Seriously, go read my review. I’ll wait.
Mr. Bennett’s debut novel, Mr. Shivers was published in 2010, and while that novel was winning literary awards left and right, he was busy publishing his second novel, The Company Man. His fourth novel, American Elsewhere is scheduled to hit store shelves this coming winter. And beyond all of that wonderfulness, he agreed to let me ask him a bunch of strange questions. What a gentleman!
Everyone, please give a big round of applause to Robert Jackson Bennett!
LRR: The Troupe focuses around Vaudeville performers and troupes that traveled the country in the early 1900′s from theater to theater. Did you spend any time in the theater when you were younger? Are you a fan of music and theater of the early 1900′s?
RJB: I was a musician, actually – a classically trained violist. So I know a fair bit about prodigies like George, having met a few in my time. Some were hilariously self-involved, like George, and others were like the little circus dogs who only know how to perform, and haven’t ever done anything else. It could be a bit sad, in a way.
I’m a huge fan of early 20th century comedy – the Marx Brothers, Laurel and Hardy, Buster Keaton… I still haven’t seen that many comedians who can do so much with so little.
Some people don’t get the Marx Brothers. Personally, I don’t get people who don’t get the Marx Brothers.
LRR: Did you always want to be a writer? If not, what got you started down the path to “Hi, I’m an author!”
RJB: I kind of think so. I think my parents might have raised me to be a writer without knowing it. My first word was “Melville,” if that gives you any idea, because that was our dog’s name. They were always giving me books and discussing them with me. It was expected of you to be culturally informed. And at some point in time I started thinking up variations of the things they were showing me or books I read on my own, trying to make them better and make them the sort of story I wanted to read, and eventually this just translated into writing.
LRR: What authors and books have inspired you over the years?
RJB: Oh, geez. A bunch. I grew up reading Stephen King, Madeleine L’Engel, Roald Dahl; then it translated into Neil Gaiman, John le Carre, Susana Clarke, David Foster Wallace; and lately I’ve been reading a lot of David Mitchell and Katherine Ann Porter.
I’m chiefly fascinated by work that examines one idea or a set of ideas. I still think of a novel as the most fun kind of thought experiment, trying to glean truths from fabulous lies, setting things in motion and smashing them together and seeing what’s left and what isn’t. I’d say most of my novels fall under this category.
The Troupe, by Robert Jackson Bennett
published in March 2012 from Orbit Books
where I got it: received review copy from the publisher
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
George is sixteen years old – proud, naive, too talented for his own good, and a little too coddled by well meaning old ladies. And he wants what all teenagers want: validation. He wants his musical talents to be recognized by an applauding audience, and more than anything he wants to find his father. Currently employed as a pianist at a local Vaudeville theatre, George resigns the moment he learns the Silenus Troupe is in town. You see, George believes Heironomo Silenus is his long lost father. The moment he meets the man, his suspicions are confirmed, as George could easily be a younger, thinner Heironomo Silenus. Never the fatherly type, Silenus attempts to offer George what familial feelings he can.
George isn’t the only one looking for Silenus, and a new audience isn’t the only reason The Silenus Troupe moves on every few days. Tight on their heels are strange masked men dressed all in grey, creatures that aren’t quite human, aren’t quite of our world. There is something frightfully strange going on, and if Silenus isn’t going to tell George the truth, young George will just have to investigate and learn for himself.
Beyond the odd performances no one can rightly remember, in the Silenus Troupe nothing is as it seems, and yet, everything is sort of, exactly, as it seems. Their puppeteer Tyburn loves his puppets the way a saner person might adore children, their strongwoman Franny couldn’t possibly be able to lift the weights she does with her tiny frame, their singer Colette is mighty sensitive to racial issues for a royal Persian Princess, and their cellist Stanley never says a word. Their musical numbers are far more than musical numbers, and their magic show is something far darker and deeper than sleight of hand or visual trickery. Silenus is travelling the country looking for something specific, something he has obsessed about nearly his entire life.
She Nailed A Stake through His Head: Tales of Biblical Terror, edited by Tim Lieder
published in 2010
where I got it: Interlibrary loan
.
.
.
.
.
.
It being Passover/Easter week, what could be more appropriate reading than something biblical? I recently came across Tim Lieder’s blog, and he struck me as a swearing scholar (my favorite kind. of both). There was mention of an anthology that included old testament allegories and demons, and as I was already in a Haggadah frame of mind, so off to the library I went.
with a title like She Nailed a Stake Through his Head: Tales of Biblical Terror, it’s easy to think this is a one dimensional collection, that’s nothing but bible story retellings. You’d be wrong. While there were bible story retellings (which I admit, were my favorites) that don’t quite parallel what I’ve taught at Sunday school, but there were also vampires and Cthulhu monsters, and a Gilgamesh prequel and a parallel future where King David is a druggie rock star, and a few more vampires, and people, this is horrifically wonderful bizarro non-traditional stuff.
Mostly very short stories, this anthology was nice and easy to swallow, the whole thing is barely 150 pages long. I read the entire thing in two sittings. And you don’t need a biblical education of any kind to enjoy these. There are no inside jokes for you to figure out, no parables to puzzle over. Just deliciously creepy and sometimes heavily sexualized fiction. That word “Terror” in the title? yeah, there for a reason. And if you have any kind of Judeo-Christian education, you’ll be even more creeped out, which for me, made it all the better.
Here are some of my thoughts on a few of the entries:
Whither thou Goest, by Gerri Leen – With the death of their husbands, Naomi and her daughter-in-law Ruth head back to Naomi’s homeland. In this version, it isn’t that Ruth doesn’t want to follow, it’s that she’s bound to follow. Not bound by anything Naomi has done, but bound, beautifully and powerfully, by her own words “Wherever you will go, I will go”. This Ruth survivies and lives off Naomi’s lifeforce. Naomi is trapped forever, for Ruth will never let her escape. And when they reach Naomi’s hometown, Ruth sets her sights on a new patron, someone new from whom she can steal lifeforce and energy.
Swallowed! by Stephen M. Wilson – told in reverse order, at first it’s easy to be disgusted by the man’s actions. He follows the voice in his head and does the horrible things it commands. He kills a few people, violently, needlessly, and viciously. But then we get an inkling of who he might be. that he was on a ship, fleeing something, and was thrown overboard by Cthulhu worshipping sailors, and was swallowed into warm darkness, where he didn’t die. The absolute creepiest retelling of the Jonah story I have ever had the pleasure of reading, this Jonah is deformed and mangled, possessed by something hungrier and more murderous than even himself.
Babylon’s Burning, by Daniel Kayson – taking place right here, right now, nerdy Daniel gets dragged to a corporate company party by his brother. Daniel is disgusted by the kind of money this company throws around, their parties populated by high end call girls, their filthy government contracts that land them headlines about civilian deaths. And then he arrives at the party, and oh, the girls, the beautiful girls! A translator by training, Daniel witnesses something at the party that changes his life forever. He knows what those words mean, and he knows they will eventually point right at him. When you are the prophet, the translator, the high priest, there is no escape.
Psalm of the Second Body, by Catherynne Valente – Ya’ll know I love me some Valente. Although this anthology was published in 2010, this short story was originally published in 2005, it was Valente’s first. An almost prequel to the epic of Gilgamesh, it had me running to Wikipedia for a refresher course. I haven’t read Gilgamesh since high school. This is the story of Shamhat, the harlot who was instructed to seduce Enkidu, and took seven days to complete her mission. The story is from Shamhat’s point of view, and she is very good at what she does. I get the impression she’s offended to forever be known as the harlot, the prostitute, that the pains she took to help Enkidu become just slightly more human would never be acknowledged as important. I do love me some Valente, so it kills me that this story did nothing for me. The whole thing felt overwrought and overly ornamented just for the purpose of being overdone. Is she perhaps telling me that a harlot covered in the gaudiest golden jewelry will still always be seen by history as nothing but a woman who spreads her legs for money? The only story in the collection that I read twice, and the only one that didn’t do it for me.
Faith, by John Love
Posted on: February 10, 2012
- In: John Love | science fiction | scifi
- 13 Comments
Faith, by John Love
published in January 2012
where I got it: purchased New
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Remember Peter Watts’ Blindsight? Blend it with Moby Dick, and then imagine it was written by Gene Wolfe. Now ramp up the tension and suspense to eleven. It’s hard to believe Faith is a debut novel. It reads so smooth and subtle that as the pages fly by under your fingers, all you feel is the copper tang of a nameless fear.
Faith has a slow start, and this is exactly as it should be. Otherwise, we would never know the subtle ironies of the Sakhran race, how they live together, but live apart, their sense of honor even as they were conquered by the Commonweath. Without the slower, gentler, understated start, we would never understand the pure and total demise of the proud Sakhran race, and how they didn’t even attempt to resist it.
Three hundred years ago and unidentified ship came to the Sakhran homeworld. Only one person among them understood what she was. He wrote a book, and when the book was read, the Sakhran race began to decline. Out of vicious irony, the Sakhrans named the ship Faith. Like her namesake, she visits on a whim, and can destroy with a whisper, not knowing and not caring what she’s turned you into. But this Faith offers only questions, never any answers.
Faith has returned, and the expanded Commonwealth of Planets believe they have the only weapon that can stop her. The Commonwealth built nine Outsider ships. Built in secret, and then pushed away as lepers, the ships are named after psychopaths and mass murderers. There is never any shore leave, and crew know to never return to their home planets. Aaron Foord, commander of the Charles Manson knows he is the Commonwealth’s only chance against Faith. His crew are the dregs of humanity, the mistakes, the undesirables, the hidden criminals, perhaps, the anti-Faith. And those of his crew who aren’t human? some of them claim to have eaten their own children.
The Third Section by Jasper Kent
Posted on: October 20, 2011
The Third Section, by Jasper Kent
Published in Oct 2011
where I got it: received a review copy from the friendly folks at Pyr
Why I read it: Enjoyed immensely the first two books in the series Twelve, and Thirteen Years Later
.
.
.
.
Taking place 30 years after the events of Thirteen Years Later, The Third Section (the third book in Jasper Kent’s Danilov Quintet) follows the children of Aleksei Danilov. His son Dmitri is in Sevastapol, fighting off the French and the English. When Dmitri discovers two dead soldiers, whose wounds match those witnessed thirty years earlier, he knows the creatures he helped his father hunt have returned.
Meanwhile, Aleksei’s illegitimate daughter, Tamara, has secured a post with the Tsar’s secret police, The Third Section. With a cover as a madam running a brothel, her official mission is informing on loose lipped politicians. Her supervisor attempts to unnerve her by showing her his torture chambers, but she barely reacts. Tamara has nothing left to lose, what could he possibly show her that would frighten her? When one of the working girls is found dead, covered in blood and missing her throat, Tamara begins an investigation that can’t end well.
And then we have Yudin, one of the most thrilling villains I have ever met. In Twelve, Yudin, or Iuda, as he was known then, identified Aleksei as a worthy opponent. Now that the game has started, Yudin won’t back away until there is a winner. And when one is immortal, the game never has to end. He is vicious, scientifically curious, and sadistic, and the pleasure of finally getting his point of view was a pleasurable horror unto itself. I have no sympathy for Yudin, but his talent for deception and the long game makes him beyond fascinating to watch.
Fevre Dream, by George R R Martin
Published in 1982
where I got it: borrowed from a friend
why I read it: been on a GRRMartin kick lately
.
.
.
.
.
I’ve been on a George R R Martin kick lately, along with most of the epic fantasy blogosphere. While everyone else is reading a nearly infamous fifth book, I’ve been hitting the backlist. When a friend offered to lend me his autographed copy of Fevre Dream along with the recently released graphic novel (which I haven’t read yet), I jumped at the chance. George R R Martin writing vampire horror on an antebellum Mississippi River? Sign me up!
beware – spoilers ahead.
Fevre Dream opens with a very depressed steamboat owner. Abner Marsh has had nothing but bad luck. Steamboats crushed in ice, or destroyed by the river. Few want to work with him, some believe he’s cursed. One day he’s approached by a wealthy gentleman named Joshua York who makes Marsh an offer he can’t refuse. Their partnership agreed upon, York supplies massive sums of money, and Marsh hires the best riverboat builders, engineers, and pilots money can buy. Soon, the Fevre Dream is born. She’s over 300 feet long, trimmed in silver, and nearly covered in mirrors. Once you’ve laid eyes on the Fevre Dream, you can never forget her.
It’s not long before Marsh and his crew suspect something strange is going on. York is never seen in the day time, and seems to only drink a homebrew wine. Betraying York’s trust to never enter his room or ask detailed questions, Marsh breaks into his room in an attempt to discover his secret.
Recent Comments