I really wanted to like this book more than I did. I discovered it in a dollar store, flicked to some random pages, and thought I might have come acroI really wanted to like this book more than I did. I discovered it in a dollar store, flicked to some random pages, and thought I might have come across an unexpected gem... a "diamond in the rough" you could say, although I quickly detected some "rough" nonetheless. I saw some glints of good, but overall it wasn't worth it by the end. 'We Are All Completely Fine' is a great concept; a "therapy group" for victims of supernatural torment who meet up to discuss their horrible pasts and in the process discover a mystery which involves them all in the present. But by the end it doesn't deliver the goods you thought were promised at the beginning.
There's a lot going on in this novella, to the point where it often feels like a handful of supernatural ideas were thrown against the wall in the hopes that some might stick for a reader. I found the smorgasbord result to be uneven at best, clumsy or crippling storytelling at worst. Before the tale could settle into any steady rhythm, something from left field would crash into the plot and knock things askew again. "Left field" isn't a bad thing, and there's much merit in keeping a reader "on their toes", but a lot of this story felt like an under-cooked stew where many of the ingredients didn't compliment one another, a half-baked recipe when all was said and done.
There are a few places where Daryl Gregory really shines in his writing, but then it is eclipsed by too many examples of blatant exposition, showing instead of telling, repetition, and unsteady storytelling. Often the colloquial borders on downright corny. The characters felt wooden, their development delayed. I didn't find the novella particularly thrilling, and the horror in it felt more akin to YA, rather than adult. In all honestly, I wanted more, but didn't end up getting it....more
I enjoyed the story. I did not enjoy the style. And I think this novel is perfect for a discussion about the value of story and substance versus styleI enjoyed the story. I did not enjoy the style. And I think this novel is perfect for a discussion about the value of story and substance versus style.
This is a tale of a native legend come to life to exact revenge on four members of the Blackfeet tribe. It is intriguing, chilling, and at some points, gruesome. The way the paranormal entity gradually enters our world and stalks its victims was fascinating, as were the themes of man versus nature, the natural order and balance therein, and the long-reaching consequences of trespassing against what is good and right. The mind-games, visions, and eventual visceral terror made this a great tale of horror with much tension and tragedy. The story is what kept me reading.
The style, however, was all over the goddamn place. Technically written in third-person omnipotent, the narrative sometimes abruptly switched to second-person with no real priming or break to signify a change, and often wandered into a colloquial or stream-of-consciousness style that really only works in first-person perspective. Imposing this on third-person narrative caused the prose to buckle and sometimes hit a wall. The result often felt like a square peg being forced into a circle hole, crippling the momentum of the storytelling (There were some spots that used "like" colloquially so much, it felt like a valley-girl was suddenly talking). I've seen some excuses for this, saying SGJ was being "experimental". Okay, I'll bite. But "experimental" doesn't automatically mean "good". If this novel had stuck with third-person, or had been rewritten in various first-persons, I think SGJ would have knocked it out of the park.
I've said this before, but I'm getting real tired of the "up-sell" at this point. The current publishing industry has a real problem hailing mediocrity as "magnificence". Stephen Graham Jones is much more than a mediocre author, and his talent absolutely shines in spots, but the accolades and endorsements this novel received led me to believe I'd be reading something truly incredible. And although The Only Good Indians definitely has some magnificent moments, I didn't feel it added up to the overall hype....more
'The Killer Inside Me' is a classic. To this day, it remains one of the more convincing, and chilling, stories told from the perspective of a serial k'The Killer Inside Me' is a classic. To this day, it remains one of the more convincing, and chilling, stories told from the perspective of a serial killer; a small-town deputy with a "sickness" he can subdue for a spell, but never cure. Lou Ford is the kind of man who will never be under suspicion. By all accounts he is a relaxed and helpful officer of the law, regarded by his fellow citizens as friendly to a fault. They also regard him as not too intelligent, because Lou never let's on just how devilishly smart he actually is.
When a whore rolls into town and starts stirring up trouble, Ford's badly buried sickness starts to stir as well. With an old vendetta on his mind, and a situation arising that could square away some of his impulses, Ford puts into motion a series of events that leads from one murder to another. It's a riveting story, with unsettling brutality and amorality. But, as with a lot of the "classics", the story feels dated somewhat today. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, as a good tale makes the most of the time capsule it comes in, but some there are parts of this dark ride that come across so old-timey, it's enough to buck you off the horse for a little bit.
If you go into the book knowing that, you'll understand and appreciate it that much more. Highly recommended for people who want a good look into the mind, actions, and attitudes of a psychopath....more
There is no longer any doubt. Whenever someone asks me who my favorite author of all time is, I usually think for several seconds, mull over the namesThere is no longer any doubt. Whenever someone asks me who my favorite author of all time is, I usually think for several seconds, mull over the names of few different writers, then reply "probably Stewart O'Nan". No longer shall I hesitate, and no longer shall I use the word "probably".
'The Night Country' is an outstanding little novel. One year after a horrific car accident claims the lives of three teenagers in suburbia on Halloween night, the ghosts return with a vengeance to further haunt the living they left behind. Five souls were in the car when it rocketed into a tree. Of the two survivors, one was miraculously pulled out of the wreck with barely a scratch, and the other tragically stumbled away with barely a face. The first cop on the scene is tormented by the blood and bodies and one dark personal secret. All the characters, alive and dead, slide toward an unavoidable event that's been primed to take place on the anniversary of the fateful night.
The story is told from the perspective of one ghost as the trio of specters are drawn back and forth across town, magnetized to those who can't shake the memory of them, preying on nostalgia and suffering. On the surface, the story seems simplistic, but O'Nan mines the depths of despair, regret, and survivor's guilt. A ghost story in the hands of Stewart O'Nan transcends genres and rises to a level beyond what most writers can realize, let alone reach. I couldn't recommend this book enough....more
Fiction is a funny thing. The vast majority of it is lies based on lies. Naturally, of course, since most storytelling is about invention, exaggeratioFiction is a funny thing. The vast majority of it is lies based on lies. Naturally, of course, since most storytelling is about invention, exaggeration, and meeting expectation. Even the "dark stuff" (horror, thrillers, dramas) on the market often still cling to the romantic overtones of heroes embarking on quests to best villains and good inevitably triumphing over evil.
The best fiction is based on the truth. However, the majority of fiction writers are terrified of real truth. Why? Because it reflects us instead of peddling escapism, and we've been ugly as fuck throughout most of human history. More often than not we're confused, violent, ignorant, and constantly trying to find our way throughout life using a broken moral compass. Cormac McCarthy, as always, navigates the dark waters of the human experience with a fearlessness unmatched among his peers. He knows what we really are, what we've done, and what unforgivable trespasses we're capable of. He's not interested in telling you lies to make you feel better about your reading experience. That kind of honesty is hard to come by, and for Cormac it's his code.
Outer Dark is a story of a simpler time. It's a world where people lived elementary lives and employed straightforward methods of survival; scrimp or starve, work or waste away, steal or succumb, kill or be killed. Within a more basic world, the human instinct can be much more animal. Our nomadic tendencies were still settling, and our barbarism was barely tamed. People made their way in the world as best they could, sometimes with purpose, sometimes aimlessly, but almost always to some degree of mortal danger.
Written with Cormac's signature poetic minimalism and bleak beautiful prose, this simple story offers many themes and interpretations that could take up pages and spark numerous deep discussions. But I'll leave you with something plain and effective. There were scenes in Cormac's novels 'The Road', 'Child Of God, and 'Blood Meridian' that I thought were the most unsettling things I'd ever read, but one of the final scenes in 'Outer Dark' proved me wrong.
I'm not sure I've ever read a more gut-wrenching passage of such pitiful innocence coming into contact with such efficient and indifferent cruelty. It is a page in a book that will haunt me for the rest of my life....more
'The Devil in the White City' contains what the title implies, but not in equal amounts. I, like most people I reckon, picked the book up to read abou'The Devil in the White City' contains what the title implies, but not in equal amounts. I, like most people I reckon, picked the book up to read about one of America's earliest and most prolific serial killers: H.H. Holmes. What it turned out to be was a story focused much more on a Chicago architect/elite named Daniel Burnham and his circle of associates. The plot structure alternates between Burnham and Holmes, a creator and a destroyer, two men who never meet or have anything to do with one another, with the World's Fair serving as a backdrop to their own stories. The juxtaposition of these two characters and their polar-opposite passions makes for an interesting premise that becomes less engaging when you actually delve into the pages. 'The Devil in the White City' proves to be lopsided, with a lot dedicated to the "White City", and a lot less allotted to "The Devil".
This book is actually about the city of Chicago and it's influential architects/leaders around the time of the city's undertaking to host The World's Fair before the turn of the 20th century. I mean, sure, the serial killer was in there. Every 2-3 chapters an often decidedly short section would be dedicated to him and his murderous exploits to keep your morbid curiosity invested, but it never amounted to much more than a side story, and not much of a chilling one at that despite the subject matter. I don't know how Erik Larson managed to suck the fear factor of Holmes numerous killings, but I suspect it has to do with his more clinical non-fiction writing style. As a result I found very little of it frightening.
If you have any interest in the history of Chicago or the 1893 World's Fair, you'll find plenty to enjoy in this book. However, if you're like me, a person who has little interest in either, you'll still learn some stuff, read a number of passages that will raise your eyebrows, but largely feel like you're grinding through the Burnham chapters in order to get to the Holmes chapters. And when you get to those chapters, they can be a bit of a letdown. I'm all for authors leaving stuff to the reader's imagination, but Larson leaves a lot to be desired.
As a result, The Devil In The White City gets a solid three stars from me. It's decent, no doubt about that. The writing is very good, it's meticulously researched, and the story moves at a good click. It's filled with history, interesting tidbits, and touches on the black soul of a demented killer we would all love to know more about. But there are books you just can't put down, and this definitely isn't one of them. At no point was I ever engrossed by its dutiful content or glued to its many pages....more
My God, Stewart O'Nan has to be the most underrated writer in the world. I cannot fathom how his talent is not more widely recognized.
Sure, plenty ofMy God, Stewart O'Nan has to be the most underrated writer in the world. I cannot fathom how his talent is not more widely recognized.
Sure, plenty of people know about him, but nowhere near the number he deserves. He's an absolute beast of a novelist, one who exhibits total control of his craft. A gifted writer, master storyteller, and brilliant imagination all rolled into one; an author who has such an uncanny ability to get under your skin, that he can actually wear you with a book like 'A Prayer For The Dying'.
Told in the rare second person (Trust me, that's a truly incredible feat) this book is one of the best I have ever read. Hell, it made it on to my Top 10 list before I'd even got through a hundred pages. It is just that riveting and well-written. In lesser hands, this could easily be categorized as a horror novel, but in the steady strong grip of O'Nan it transcends labels or genres. Harrowing and heartbreaking, 'Prayer' possesses a tenderness only matched by the bleak reality of the story's circumstances. Your jaw will drop more than once as you read about how an uneasy peace between townsfolk falls to pieces amid a terrible infection that invades homes and heads and hearts. You're drawn in, unable to free yourself from the pages, becoming the man trapped at it's center, impossibly tasked with trying to save the living, while overwhelmingly compelled to take care of the dead.
There is not a word wasted in this short, but brilliant piece of fiction based on historical fact. Put this on your list, make it the next book you buy. I want to punch myself in the teeth for missing out on this novel for as long as I did....more
John Darnielle is a good writer. He's got a fine imagination that sets up a hell of a premise for a book. And by the time you've finished that book, JJohn Darnielle is a good writer. He's got a fine imagination that sets up a hell of a premise for a book. And by the time you've finished that book, John Darnielle might have also disappointed you quite a bit.
The idea behind 'Universal Harvester' is fantastic. A young man working as a clerk at a small town video store in the 90s lives a quiet, and maybe stunted, life in middle America. A tragedy dominates his past, resulting in guarded and uneventful days gone by. Everything begins to change when customers start returning to the store complaining that there is something wrong with the VHS tapes they have rented. Someone has been splicing snippets of home movies into the feature films. When the clerk begins reviewing the tapes to see what's wrong, he is met with strange images that are haunting, confusing, and sometimes violent. When a small cast of local characters become involved in this mystery for their own personal reasons, the search is on to find who is making these discomforting films and why. And as a reader, you can't wait to get on this ride.
But whatever direction you think this ride might go, I'll wager it is nowhere near where you thought it was heading. This is both a blessing and a curse; it subverts expectations, but not necessarily in the way of any betterment. Darnielle takes a concept that would suit an excellent thriller (even a highbrow one) and sort of wastes it on an exercise in comparatively uneventful literary writing. Yes, it asks some important questions about people's lives intersecting through the passage of broken hearts; past, present, and future. But it fails to pan out in any fashion resembling the initial excitement it stirs up. The thing is, Darnielle's writing is so good that it keeps hooking you and reeling you in, but by the time you're dragged to the boat the barb slips out of your lip and you find yourself drifting away in a kind of indifferent disappointment.
For as good as the writing is, there is a fair amount of unnecessary exposition going on too. Lots to learn about small towns in Iowa, and the people who populate them. All too often this narrative seems boring, yet you can't help feeling it must be building up to something important. However, it never compares to the awesomeness you were trying to picture in your head, but couldn't. One could argue that these tedious descriptions of time and place add to the atmosphere and story. Sure, I'll bite. But I can't deny that chewing on it for so many pages leaves a bland taste in my mouth. What seems like a straight shot to a bull's eye of a plot at the beginning, turns into a far more meandering case of confusing affairs by the end.
This could be a case of the writer losing the plot. Or, more likely, this is a case of an author telling a story you end up caring less and less about. It is rare that I read a book so intriguing, well written, and ultimately underwhelming. Still, there is clear value in reading John Darnielle's 'Universal Harvester'.
That value will certainly change from reader to reader, however....more
The conclusion to 'The Silence Of The Lambs' left the door wide open for the novel's villain, Doctor Hannibal Lecter. The world was his oyster and manThe conclusion to 'The Silence Of The Lambs' left the door wide open for the novel's villain, Doctor Hannibal Lecter. The world was his oyster and many of it's inhabitants a potential seafood platter. A lot of readers would have been quite happy to leave it there, but there was much that could still be mined from the depths of one of literature's darkest, and most complex, hearts. The "Cannibal" was on the loose. Where would he go? What would he do? Who else might fall under this charming killer's spell, and subsequently his knife?
Though its predecessors (Red Dragon' and 'The Silence Of The Lambs') were superior, 'Hannibal' still packs a punch. Thomas Harris has a gift for villains, and his third installment is no exception. Although Hannibal himself has gone from antagonist to protagonist in this novel, his new nemesis Mason Verger is a considerable creep-show all of his own. A man of considerable wealth and power, Verger crossed paths with Lecter in the past... and lets just say he's unable to "save face" because of it. As a result, what is left of his life is dedicated to a carefully planned scheme of revenge.
Clarice Starling, protagonist from 'The Silence Of The Lambs', is back in the mix (as are several supporting characters from that book), looking for Lecter while dealing with the subversive problems and politics of working as female agent in the FBI. The manhunt for the cannibal has gone international, and Hannibal seems to be playing a game of cat and mouse with his pursuers to some extent. His true intentions could be contradictory to what we've come to believe is his true nature, but the game is afoot and severed body parts will play a meaty role.
'Hannibal' retains much of Harris's signature creepiness and unsettling insight to the lives of those who are quite inclined to deprive others of theirs. Although we learn much more about the fantastic serial killer that could not be figured out by psychiatry's finest, it is worth asking whether making Hannibal the "hero" in this book was a good idea or not. Getting to know the man more intimately certainly sacrifices some of the mystery and menace previously surrounding him. The novel is also not as solid as the books that came before it, moving at a slower pace with some unnecessary amounts of narrative. As a result, 'Hannibal' is a welcome enough edition to the series, though a weaker one. There is little doubt that the ending will split audience opinion as well. ...more
Welcome to this fourth collection of spine-tingling stories, an assortment appalling acts, some truly terrible tales told by the awful occupants of the hideous haunt!
Who remembers their first encounter with The Haunt of Fear? At some point almost everyone has stumbled over these old penny dreadfuls raised to the price of a dime. Despite being created in the 1950s, these creepy comics have skulked around for decades, discovered and rediscovered at garage sales and flea markets, presented in bookstores as reissues, beckoning young readers to experience a darker side of comic books away from costumed superheroes and run-of-the-mill villains.
Three decrepit hosts would lure young readers through an assortment of short stories drawn with skills that set the bar high. The Old Witch, the Vault-Keeper, and the Crypt-Keeper acted as guides for a great many youngsters into a world of maniacs and monsters spilling blood and guts.
The Haunt of Fear earned its rightful place in the pantheon of horror, as recognizable a name as The Twilight Zone and Stephen King. The effect it had on entertainment and culture cannot be overstated. The horror genre was new ground for comics at the time of its inception, and the influence of these stories carries on today. A great many books, films, and TV series were built on the foundations laid by The Haunt of Fear, as well as plenty of spin-offs and imitators on the comic book front. From thrilling short story collections by innumerable authors, to movies like Creepshow and Tales from the Dark Side, to television such as Tales from the Crypt and Black Mirror, almost every short-form design can trace its roots back to the style and substance of this classic horror comic.
Kicking off the book is an introduction by Grant Geissman that is as interesting as it is informative, supplying us with the story of the comic’s creation and subsequent rise to fame. Of equal intrigue is the foreword by Rob Zombie, who recounts his first discovery of The Haunt of Fear as a young boy. He describes the powerful and almost forbidden magnetism of the art and stories, something that greatly influenced him to become the music/filmmaker he is today.
Making up the collection are issues #19–24 of The Haunt of Fear, presented in digitally remastered color. Each issue features five tales told in comic form, plus a short story, and finally a column featuring letters written by fans and answered by The Old Witch.
You get 24 scary stories with some additional content, not a bad deal for a trip down memory lane! As nostalgic as it all is, however, the collection also proves how bad the material could be too at times (occasionally laughably so). The three old crones’ groan-worthy puns, atrocious alliteration, and cheesy jokes littering the intros and outros are one thing, but the stories themselves sometimes leave a lot to be desired.
Readers are led by the hand all too often, characters’ dialogue leaving little to the imagination. Most endings can be guessed long before anyone reaches the halfway point. In contrast, sometimes plot developments or revelations come out of nowhere with no setup or logic, leaving readers with a raised eyebrow or creased forehead.
A good number of stories rely heavily (often directly) on the standard-setting predecessors of long ago. Attempts to put new spins on old stories are frequent; Jekyll & Hyde, Bluebeard, Grimm’s fairy tales, the works of Edgar Allen Poe, as well an assortment of vampire and werewolf lore. There is no question how outdated it all is, and many of these tales don’t hold up today. It’s something nobody probably noticed when they were young and impressionable, but we become painfully aware of it now as adults looking back.
But The Haunt of Fear had its place and time, making a hell of an impact when it was fresh and unsettling. Best to remember it that way and enjoy these old offerings as a time capsule filled with the stuff of 1950s nightmares, the kind of comics that kept the nightlights on and made children check under their beds....more
Stephen King's IT holds a special place in my heart. I can safely say that this novel was my undeniable gateway into personal reading. King was the caStephen King's IT holds a special place in my heart. I can safely say that this novel was my undeniable gateway into personal reading. King was the catalyst, and this novel was the chemical reaction that detonated a huge desire to get my hands on books other than what I was having to read at school for classes.
When I was thirteen, IT was the first book I ever bought for myself with my own money. I took my allowance to a local church sale and found a dogeared copy in a pile of used paperbacks. Something about it called to me. Much to my surprise, my mother let me buy it. Looking back, I can see the book’s magnetism was an invitation to start down the path I’m on now as an author of thrillers. The novel was so adult, so scary, so beyond what I was used to reading. I’m a slow reader, and was even slower at that age. IT took me over six months to read, and all the while I felt like I was slipping into a long relationship with the characters and story. When it finally ended, I felt empty inside and was upset to see it all go. I quickly began filling the hollow with more books.
That was a long time ago, but I'll never forget this particular reading experience. I'm a lot older now and not a personal fan of King's style anymore. He has a large problem with overwriting and his prose is too tedious at times. I've never considered him a master "writer" per se, but there is little doubt that he is a true master storyteller. His work has the ability to genuinely scare you, and his ideas were often groundbreaking. His knack for getting inside the heads of kid characters is commendable, as is his gift for being able to tie your guts in knots and snake dread down your spine.
IT is an epic of a book, and one that will keep you turning its many, many pages. Of all King's big novels, this is the one I recommend the most. Pennywise The Clown is a high-ranking nightmare in the horror hall-of-fame, and for good reason. He's one of the most chilling supernatural monsters ever dreamed up. And we have Mr. King to thank for that.
Can you imagine a world without the internet today? It's brought us so much, become such a staple in our lives. There is little doubt that the net is Can you imagine a world without the internet today? It's brought us so much, become such a staple in our lives. There is little doubt that the net is one of the most important and influential creations in our human history. But in a lot of ways we've also created a monster, a Frankenstein sewn together from so many parts of our own collective psyche, both good and bad. Author Jamie Bartlett (who is also the Director of the Center for the Analysis of Social Media) does us a great service by dissecting this dark half, peeling back the skin and sinew so we can see what's gone rotten inside.
'The Dark Net' is not a long book, yet it covers a lot of ground. Bartlett embeds himself with cypherpunks, online neo-nazis, cam-girls, trolls, and the technologically savvy. He examines the underground trade of drugs, contract-killing, and child pornography on the internet, while also looking at the web's relationship to terrorism, stability (or lack thereof), transhumanism, and self-harm. Each chapter could likely be a book in itself, but Bartlett is our knowledgeable tour guide to the internet's bloated seedy underbelly, taking us on a whistle-stop tour of each dark corner, giving us enough time to get acquainted and often unsettled.
Bartlett does the right, and difficult, thing on his journey: He withholds judgement. What he learns (as we inevitably do too) is that both the real world and the digital world are composed of shades of gray. There is no black and white on any topic, no matter how desperately we wish it were true. If facts matter to you, Bartlett has got some you might not be prepared for. The information age can be a bitch, and it comes with many disturbing studies and realities, enough to give your faith in humanity a good shake... and possibly your stomach a turn.
Inevitably, the sheltered types will complain that Bartlett unearths horrible realities that offend their delicate sensibilities. On the flip side, tech-head types will gripe that he didn't go far or deep enough into the subcultures they're already familiar with. This book is not for those groups. It's for the vast majority of us that use the internet every day of our lives, consider it part and parcel of our existence, but are largely unaware of some of the seediness or radicalism simmering just below the surface.
Bartlett's writing has great flow, is well researched, and doesn't lose you when some of the more complex technological aspects rear their ugly head. The book moves at great pace, and its topics are structured in ways that allow you to put it down and walk away, but not for too long. It is rare that I find a non-fiction book as engaging and tightly written as the pared-down fast-paced fiction I hold dear. Jamie Bartlett is a writer for our times and we would all be wise to listen to him now, as well as see what he has to say next....more
“I’m a room without a door. A war artist, without a war.”
War is a terrible thing. With brutal indiscrimination it carves up victims and separates survivors. Those that live through it can often teach us more than any historian ever could. With art and prose, some even do it in a way that transcends.
Paul Nash was one such individual: an English WWI soldier, official war artist, and poet. With his words and paintbrush he revealed the battlefield for what it really was, both during and after the Great War. As one of the most influential and important artists of his era, a graphic novel recounting his life and delving into his fractured psyche is a more than fitting tribute.
Acclaimed illustrator David McKean draws the story for us in the rich alternating styles of Nash, doing the old artist proud and then some. The result is 'Black Dog', named after the visitant canine that plagued Nash’s dreams and visions from his childhood to his post-war years. Neither malevolent nor benign, this specter skulked in his periphery through sickness and in health, war and peace. It acted as an omen, messenger, foe, and friend.
The writing in Black Dog is sparse, and while largely effective, it isn’t the focus of this work. A picture paints a thousand words, but under the influence of Nash, McKean’s creations have the ability to double, even triple that.
There are several different surrealist styles in play, and the shifting artwork reminded me often of the Hellraiser graphic novels, a series renowned for its incongruously frightening art and stories (which McKean himself actually contributed to at one point). But where Hellraiser reveled in abstract fantastical horror, Black Dog wallows in our earth-borne war-torn nightmares and sleepwalks through the dreams dredged from such. This book has the ability to build a sense of wonder in the reader, but also shock and awe. For instance, the incredible two-page illustration of a German zeppelin over London imagined as a massive airborne coelancanth-type creature will stick with you for days.
It’s hard to be critical of a work based on a celebrated artist, writer, and soldier. Thankfully, blessedly little misses its mark in Black Dog. There are times, far and few between, where the poetry strains at its weakest links or the prose can come off heavy-handed. As a record of one man’s life experience there is an absence of pretentiousness, but the writing can still seem didactic in places. Whenever this occurs it isn’t long before a striking or breathtaking piece of art balances the book back out.
Surrealism is a tricky thing, and isn’t for everyone. But in the context of the stressed and strained mind of a surviving solider coming to terms with the warfare he witnessed, it is a near perfect fit. Damaged souls can give a commanding voice to both beautiful and harrowing stories. Paul Nash is the embodiment of it and Dave McKean harnesses his power, channeling it into a superior graphic novel that everyone should experience. ...more
Billed as a black comedy, my feelings on 'The Bottle Factory Outing' are mixed. I imagine most readers reactions would be mixed too, although I could Billed as a black comedy, my feelings on 'The Bottle Factory Outing' are mixed. I imagine most readers reactions would be mixed too, although I could see it being for considerably different reasons.
First, the skinny on the story: Two young flatmates, Freda and Brenda, work at a wine factory in London. They couldn't be more different from one another, or the mostly Italian immigrant men that work alongside them. Freda is fierce, independent, troublesome and romantic. Brenda is a victim plagued by victim mentality; shy, dependent, and also troublesome in her own way. Freda is in love with the factory owner's nephew, while Brenda is constantly dodging the advances of the factory manager. When both girls and a collection of the men embark on a company outing for the day, something horrible happens in the woods near their picnic, the result of which sends each character into a tailspin. The novel is a dive headfirst into the mentalities of men and women met with all kinds of tensions during that time period.
Beryl Bainbridge was brought to my attention by a trusted source as some recommended reading. I picked up this short novel and got cracking. Technically, it fit the profile of the material I prefer. Generally, I tend to read mostly older books; lean stuff from the 70s and 80s where a premium was put on talent and writing ability. These books don't qualify as 'classics' in the classical sense, but they challenge the talent that came before and set the bar high. Sometimes, however, there can be a strange atmosphere when reading them. It feels like too many generation gaps are acting as hurdles that hamper an otherwise good reading experience. No fault of the reader or the writer here, just one of those realities with older books.
I felt this novel was a good example of that. I found it hard to lose myself in the book because of a prevailing sense of disconnection that permeated the reading of it. On the flip side, it's very well written (despite the tremendous overuse of adverbs), and Bainbridge was obviously pushing some buttons at the time with her talent. One thing I found eye-opening in the novel was the abysmal treatment of women in the workplace in the 70s. The daily sexual/physical harassment suffered by female employees at the hands of the their male counterparts and superiors will make you shake your head in dismay. It's a decent little story, as well as a window into a world we would barely recognize today.
Overall, I found the fare a little light for my taste and also found myself rushing to finish the book off by the end of it. That being said, the impact of certain portions and passages were not diminished in the slightest, because when Bainbridge throws a punch, she hits you in the gut. A solid 3-star rating for a good book with some understandable shortcomings. ...more
It's official. I've just finished reading a book that will now join the slim ranks of the 'greatest books I've ever read'. These books are collected oIt's official. I've just finished reading a book that will now join the slim ranks of the 'greatest books I've ever read'. These books are collected on a special shelf placed above to my writing desk, and it is sparsely populated indeed... the novels require a particularly strong mix of skilled writing, compelling subject matter, intriguing plot, and slick storytelling.
Where to begin? How about this: If I could give 6 stars out of 5 to this novel I would. I often say of a great book "I couldn't put it down!", but 99% of the time that's a worn out embellishment. 'The Names Of The Dead' was, in fact, a book I literally (not figuratively) could not put down. It's a whole other level, and on so many levels too.
For starters, Stewart O'Nan has to be one of the most talented, yet largely unrecognized, writers in America today. He's one of Stephen King's favorite authors, and that's saying something. But as far as writing talent goes they aren't even in the same ballpark. O'Nan crushes it past the stands, dinging cars in the lot outside the stadium. Sadly, these home runs seem to sail over most people's heads. Like any of the arts disciplines, the true talent almost always gets overlooked while the big shiny celebrity shit gets all the attention from it's paid-for press paraded before every prospective reader's face. Stewart O'Nan has gained some popularity over the years, but nowhere near the amount he deserves. Certainly not enough to match his ability to tell a story. I've read other works of his, most notably 'The Speed Queen' (Which I also reviewed here on Goodreads), and I was blown away by his prowess and power. Incredibly, 'The Names Of The Dead' topped it, hitting me with both barrels.
The story is something else. Set in Ithaca, New York, Larry Markham is a damaged Vietnam vet who is having increasing trouble at home, works a shitty day job delivering junk food, and oversees a support group for other injured veterans at the local hospital at nights. Trouble starts when a new veteran named Creeley joins the group. As an ex-soldier of the infamous 'Phoenix Program' (CIA sanctioned murder) Creeley apparently tried and failed to commit suicide by eating the barrel of his gun, and is missing a quarter of his head as a result. Needless to say, he's not thinking straight, but when he insists that he knows Larry from the war (right down to his platoon code name) the story gets real creepy real fast. When Creeley escapes the hospital and proves highly skilled/dangerous even without part of his brain, things go from bad to worse.
Larry's marriage woes, mixed with his strained relationship with his WWII vet father and the encounters with Creeley, dredge up memories of his tour as a nineteen year old army medic in America's worst clusterfuck of a war. The chapters alternate between his current life, and the one he left back in the jungle with his dead platoon. Larry is a haunted man, and what's worse, he has become a hunted one as well.
Ostensibly, 'The Names Of The Dead' is a thriller. But before the word 'genre' even enters your head, know that Stewart O'Nan puts literary writers to absolute shame. Alice McDermott had this to say about it:
"The Names of the Dead is disturbing -- as with anything we know, but would sooner forget...It's also lovely, and heart-breaking, full of sympathy and humor. It should be required reading for anyone who studies war. It should be required reading for us all."
I cannot stress how good this guy is, or how well-written the novel is too. The prose is tight and lean and lethal, compelling without a single shred of bullshit. At times it is brutal, and then unexpectedly beautiful. This is the refined work of a craftsman writer and master storyteller; a prime example of fiction writing at it's utmost best. It's also a grim reminder that some of the most incredible stories can somehow slip through the cracks and never gain their rightful place. I've now added Stewart O'Nan to my very short, very selective list of writing influences.
I urge you to take note of this one, and then take it to the top of your TBR pile....more
I finally got around to a book that is considered a modern classic by many. Trust me, my 3-star rating was a surprise to even myself.
The Wasp FactoryI finally got around to a book that is considered a modern classic by many. Trust me, my 3-star rating was a surprise to even myself.
The Wasp Factory had been on my radar for quite some time, a highly recommended novel from a celebrated writer that I just never seemed to get started on, always jockeying for position in my mile-high TBR pile. I'm often told it's a sure horse to bet on, so I finally made a point of reading it, and my expectations were high. By the end of the book those expectations weren't entirely met. Not by a long shot.
The Wasp Factory is the story of a mostly calm, collected, and vicious little teenager living on a small rural island outside a Scottish town. He lives with only his eccentric father (with which he has an odd relationship indeed) and has a older brother locked away in the nuthouse. When he's not killing/mutilating small animals or engaging in strange sadistic rituals he's conceived of, the lead character recounts his unconventional/tragic childhood and the three murders he committed in the past. Basically it boils down to the early life of a serial killer, although there is much more to it than that. The Wasp Factory deals with themes of isolation, intelligence, nature vs. nurture, insanity, violence, and the damaged minds that can result from broken homes.
For the most part I enjoyed The Wasp Factory. It's a good little story that takes you inside the alienation and thought processes of a young sociopath who does not view the world the way the rest of us do. However, I found huge potholes in the pacing that sidelined my reading of the book far too many times. Despite being an acclaimed writer, Ian Banks has a habit of writing these frequent long-winded passages overly describing some of the most painfully mundane shit (building dams, exploring the island, tinkering with all kinds of things) that prove to seriously hobble the story. There really is no need for them, like they were written merely to increase the final word-count. It's a chore to get through these pages with little to show for it, and any writing that feels like work without reward is something I take issue with. A few times the narrative felt tantamount to torture, so much fat on the prose that it barely lumbered along. As I result, I found myself putting the book down for long periods, disinterested in returning to it.
But I did return and finish it, because at its core this novel is a little gem, though I stress it is rough around the edges (and in need of a polishing). Although I thought it was good, by the time I closed it I was quite happy to be done with The Wasp Factory. At the beginning I was sure I would love this book, but in the end I only ended up somewhat liking it. The novels I enjoy the most are those which I can't put down, and this was one I dropped more than a few times....more
"Raw, visceral, powerful... may just make you question what it is to be human." - Nick Cutter, author of 'The Troop'
Hey everyone,
It's official folks!"Raw, visceral, powerful... may just make you question what it is to be human." - Nick Cutter, author of 'The Troop'
Hey everyone,
It's official folks! The US/Canada Kindle Edition of HUSK is now available! I'm absolutely thrilled that my 2nd novel is finally being released in North America for readers to enjoy.
It's no secret I'm a fan of short story collections. There is something about getting through a story in its entirety during a reading session that feIt's no secret I'm a fan of short story collections. There is something about getting through a story in its entirety during a reading session that feels wholly satisfying. You can knock a short out on a bus or subway ride, read one over a lunch break, get one in before bedtime. You can pick up and put down a book a short stories for longer periods of time with no real guilt and start relatively fresh each time you crack it back open. The downside is that you invariably enjoy some stories more than others, which becomes a real bitch during review time because you end up pitting the little tales against one another in an effort to appraise it overall. By comparison the ratings will rise and fall in a balancing act, and I rarely emerge thinking every one of them was stellar because of this.
I'm pleased to report 'Rust and Bone' comes pretty damn close. I'd like to think of it as an assortment of small situational squirms that cover a wide spectrum and has the ability to get under every inch of your skin. The book is mostly tales of tough folks in trouble: a sea-world trainer being mauled by a killer whale, a couple involved in the brutal underground world of dog-fighting, an alcoholic father inadvertently ruining his kid’s prospects in life, and the stresses of being a sex addict among others. There are ugly, violent, and sadistic sides to life commonly happening behind closed doors, trespasses and indulgences committed by everyday people. This collection holds your head up to the keyhole for a peek.
Davidson’s writing is raw and visceral, giving you every bit of the grit and discomfort he intends. It isn’t necessarily the gore that gets you (although there is some of that), rather it’s the predicaments the characters find themselves in (two pitiful amputees starved of affection trying to feel each other out, for instance). I found the tone and originality more than satisfying. The writing is razor sharp, making for a lean book. There are echoes of author Thom Jones in the pages, an influence that results in a very masculine and unflinching read. Rust & Bone has a quick pace and a keen eye for everyday horror that most might be unaware of. There were stories I enjoyed more than others, ranging from great to good, and occasionally I felt that shock value was employed simply for the sake of it, but other than that there were few qualms to be had. If you enjoy short stories, this is a book I highly recommend.
Unquestionably one of the best books ever written in the thriller genre. I'd call this required reading for anyone who enjoys, or wishes to write, popUnquestionably one of the best books ever written in the thriller genre. I'd call this required reading for anyone who enjoys, or wishes to write, popular fiction. I'm incredibly hesitant to call anything contemporary a "modern day masterpiece", but there are a handful of exceptions, and this offering from Thomas Harris is undoubtedly one of them.
'The Silence Of The Lambs' is one of the novels I teach in my ‘Writing Popular Fiction’ course at the University of Toronto, and for good reason: Well written, great plotting/pacing, fantastic complex characters, in-depth research, and excellent dialogue. Clarice Starling is one hell of a protagonist, and Hannibal Lecter is one of the greatest fictional villains in the history of literature (not to mention his pages run parallel to serial killer Buffalo Bill, yet another high-ranking antagonist in the catalogue of men who have become monsters).
Harris' writing hits you in the heart, spears you in the gut, and raises the hairs on the back of your neck all too often. The insatiable hunger of human predators goes several shades darker in this masterpiece, pushing the envelope at all four corners until they tear. There is so much to experience, digest, and unpack in this novel that it is worth reading more than once. Personally, I've read it about half a dozen times. For an extra treat, listen to the audiobook narrated by none other than the great Kathy Bates. Her rendition of Hannibal The Cannibal will chill your blood....more
How far can one book go? How objectionable can the subject matter be? What hellish level can a lead character descend to and still garner some sympathHow far can one book go? How objectionable can the subject matter be? What hellish level can a lead character descend to and still garner some sympathy from readers?
Well, take a southern degenerate raised in an abysmal state of affairs and trace his downward spiral into serial murder and necrophilia… that’s what McCarthy did in ‘Child of God’. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. This novel is a descent into the darkness that can befall an uneducated and amoral man when left to his own devices; someone abandoned on the fringes of civilization and left to fend for themselves with what little they possess. When basic needs aren't met and baser desires are never addressed or fulfilled, the human reaction is often extreme and appalling. History has taught us this time and time again.
Lester Ballad is quite possibly one of the most reprehensible characters in modern literature, yet it is impossible to hate him completely. What made me squirm was Cormac’s ability to actually get me to relate to the lonely outcast and feel some sympathy for him, showing me the human side to a character we would all regard as subhuman. We are products of our environments, the results of upbringings and teachings. What happens to those who have been locked out of normality by the same societies that judge them?
'Child Of God' is like nothing you've ever read before. If you know anything about Cormac McCarthy, you'll know that the brilliant author is not known for holding back or giving a single shit about how "offended" you might be by some of the harsh realities humanity has to offer. Read this book and you will be shocked. You will be upset. But above all, you will be wading into territory very few writers have the fortitude to map and conquer. 'Child Of God' is a game-changer, a short novel that will push the limits of what you thought great content could be.
It is a must read for any avid adult reader; a book that is both brave and depraved at the same time. You have been welcomed. You have been warned.
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