Ancient Sorceries

Let’s talk about Algernon Blackwood. Specifically, let’s talk about this cute little modern collection I picked up by Pushkin Press of four Blackwood tales. I think I got it at Barnes & Noble, maybe in Amarillo. It’s a hardback with a lovely cover all done in black and white and red. I love the font they used. As I mentioned, this collection has four of Blackwood’s stories–Ancient Sorceries, The Listener, The Sea Fit, and his most famous story The Willows

This book’s cover features an H. P. Lovecraft quote praising Blackwood. Lovecraft is arguably the more famous of the two, but Blackwood was a big influence on Lovecraft and honestly, Blackwood seems like a super cool person. Horror fans generally know by now that Lovecraft was kind of an unsuccessful shut-in during his life, and deeply racist even by the standards of his time. He wrote some amazing stories and his Cthulhu mythos has inspired some amazing fiction but he doesn’t seem like a guy most of us would enjoy knowing. Algernon Blackwood, on the other hand, travelled the world and had cool hobbies like ghost hunting and backpacking. He delved deeply into  buddhism and occult societies and people said he was pleasant company. He also has an excellent name; Lovecraft was not cool enough to be buddies with a guy like this and, to be honest, I’m probably not cool enough either. 

Blackwood wrote over a dozen novels and an untold number of short stories. I’ve only read a handful of his stories so far but I should probably dive deeper into his work. He’s a giant of weird fiction, writing not just horror and ghost stories but also many stories focused on awe and mysticism. These particular four inhabit a space that’s part horror and part cosmic awe.

The first story, Ancient Sorceries, follows Arthur Vezin, who visits a quaint little French town with mysterious goings-on. As he jumps off the train a fellow passenger shouts an urgent warning, but not knowing much French all Arthur can decipher is “because of the dreams and the cats.” It makes no sense until he falls deep into the mystery of this town and its witchy denizens. It’s quite a long story, verging on a novella, slow-paced and atmospheric. The whole town’s catlike quiet draws you in just as Arthur is drawn in. Well, he’s also drawn in by the innkeeper’s attractive and friendly daughter, who eventually insists that she knew him in a previous life . . .

The Listener is a ghost story. Much of the tension comes from wondering how much of the narrator’s problem is ghosts and how much is his delicate mental health. The tension and mystery build slowly up to some quite dramatic scenes near the end. There’s a dramatic reveal at the end I want to discuss so skip the rest of this paragraph if you want to be surprised. After a great build-up that this man is being truly persecuted by a malevolent ghost, the big reveal is that in life this ghost had leprosy. This explains a lot but I’m not sure this news has quite the punch these days that it once had. Finding this out was supposed to be horrifying, I think, but it mostly made me feel sad for this guy who died alone and friendless because of his disfiguring disease. Still, I suppose having leprosy doesn’t entitle your ghost to persecute others.

The next story, The Sea Fit, is a great example of Blackwood’s mixing of horror and awe. “Big Ericsson” is a sea captain with Norse blood in him, and sometimes when the sea and sky are just so, he feels the old gods calling him to join them in the storm. This is the story of one such perfect moment and by the end it’s hard to know whether to be horrified at nature’s attempt to claim Ericsson or to cheer on his glorious union with the sea. This story is quite short and simple compared to the others and quite satisfying.

The last story in this collection, The Willows, is probably Blackwood’s most famous. You’ll find it in anthologies of horror and weird tales and I think at some point I had to read it for school. This is my third time reading it, I think, and I enjoy it more each time. It’s much more about atmosphere and awe than surprise, so it keeps its power as you read it over and notice new details.

It’s a simple story about two men canoeing down the Danube River and running into something otherworldly. The first time I read this, I had to look up the Danube. I’d heard of it, I’m not totally ignorant of geography, but I’d always associated the Danube with all the cities it flows through. Once I read about the wetlands of the Danube Delta and looked up pictures of it, the isolation and otherworldly feel of the story made a lot more sense. 

The otherworldly forces these men encounter are fascinating, seeming to exist on another plane while only pushing on the edges of our reality, causing an eerie hum and making the willow bushes seem to shift in odd ways. They also seem to cause an eerie amount of bad luck for our travelers, almost as if they’re trying to trap them on this tiny sandbar they’re camping on. Trap them, or maybe worse. Ordinary things, like missing food stores and a worn spot in the boat they could swear wasn’t there last night; it all takes on ominous overtones on this shifting island with its maddening hum.

It’s quite suspenseful watching these two men try to hide, escape, and understand these mysterious beings and what they want. It’s quite a good piece of cosmic horror and has a quiet realism that makes it all the more effective. Every time I read a Blackwood story I’m convinced I should read more of them. If you’re not familiar with Blackwood this is a great place to start, and if you are familiar please tell me what else of his I should read next. I would love to dive deeper into Blackwood’s awestruck world.

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Seven Days Before Dying

Let’s talk about “Seven Days Before Dying” by Helen Nielsen. It’s also called “Borrow the Night” but I don’t really know why. A lot of these old pulp novels have multiple titles for mysterious marketing reasons.

This one is dark in that pulp fiction/film noir/mystery sort of way. I picked it up at Brave Books in El Paso, more or less at random off a table full of pulp novels. Like most of the books I picked up that day, this was a lucky find. But enough of bookstores. On to the plot:

Judge Ralph Addison has been getting death threats for the last six days. Seven months ago he judged and sentenced a young drug addict for the Christmas Eve murder of a woman up on Mulholland Drive, and he’s about to be executed for the crime. One day before the execution, the letter writer steps up the threats, calling Addison on the private line of his home office. Finally spooked enough to take this to the District Attorney, he finds another guy already there. The arresting officer in the case, Matt Coleman, has been getting similar letters all week. According to the letters (and now phone calls), when this kid is executed tomorrow morning, Addison and Coleman will die, too.

With a choice between tracking down the “Mr. Justice” of the letters or waiting anxiously at home, Coleman goes on the hunt and Addison follows. As their last day wears into night, the search becomes less about Mr. Justice and more about finding out who the real Christmas Eve killer might be. 

I don’t want to give too much away so I’ll leave my summary there. This story has some exciting twists and turns and the characters learn a bit about themselves as they follow the clues. This is a well-constructed mystery and I enjoyed watching it unfold. Nielsen takes stock characters–aging cop with nagging doubts about that one case, shady lawyer, self-righteous judge, wayward rich girl–and gives them depth and life. Aside from a few classics I really haven’t read many pulp mysteries, and reading this one makes me feel like I’ve been missing out on some solid reading pleasure. 

Turns out Helen Nielsen was a prolific author, writing eighteen novels and dozens of short stories, as well as episodes for Alfred Hitchcock Presents and Perry Mason. The TV writing makes sense–I can picture this novel being a great TV or movie mystery in that ’50’s and ’60’s style. Sounds like there’s plenty of Nielsen out there to read and, in spite of her tiny stub of a Wikipedia entry, she’s famous enough to have made it into the internet age. Publisher Simon & Schuster’s Prologue line seems to have tons of old pulp available as ebooks for fairly reasonable prices. This is great news because a whole lot of the original paperbacks are crumbling to dust these days. The paperback of Seven Days I bought is in pretty good shape, but that only means less than ten pages actively ripped when I turned them. 

Also, this isn’t important but this is the second time I’ve searched for a pulp author on Barnes & Noble’s website and found German editions for sale. The first time I was searching for an author (Evelyn Berckman) whose books were sometimes set in Europe so I thought that was the reason for German editions. Nielsen mostly set her books in California, though, so now I’m wondering if Germans are just super into pulp fiction. Anyone know the answer to this? I’m dying to know. 

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A Botanical Daughter

Halloween is here! Hopefully you’re all busy this weekend honoring the dead, having parties, handing out candy, watching horror movies, or however you celebrate this spookiest of days. Instead of finding the bloodiest thing I can, I’m presenting you a refreshing twist on classic Frankenstein tropes. For your holiday enjoyment, I present A Botanical Daugher by Noah Medlock.

Picture a twee fantasy version of Victorian England. Somewhere in its rolling hills live Simon and Gegor. The two are lifelong bachelors (ie. a closeted gay couple) who live together in a giant greenhouse, surrounded by exotic plants. The greenhouse is Gregor’s, on his family’s estate. He raises exotic plants for select clients and does botany experiments while Simon works in the much cooler basement creating whimsical taxidermy tableaus. When Gregor discovers a fungus with some semblance of sentience he conceives his grandest experiment yet–create a humanlike structure and implant the fungus inside. If the fungus can rise to the occasion, running its new body’s functions, Gregor will have created something like a conscious creature with this fungus for a brain. It will be the discovery of the century. It will be a triumph in the horticultural world. It will also be, in some important sense, his and Simon’s child.

It sounds sweet and it is sweet, and Simon and Gregor are a charming couple. If we just focus on this–the creation and nurturing of their botanical daughter–this is a sweet little fantasy. Of course, the humanlike structure they create is primarily a fresh human corpse, the body of a local girl who just happened to be best friends (and more?) with Jennifer, their laundress/housekeeper. It’s probably best if Simon and Gregor keep that fact from her . . .

Simon and Gregor are also both confused about their botanical creation’s intelligence and sentience, sometimes treating her like a cherished daughter and sometimes seeing her as a terrifying experiment grown out of control. In the process, they have to face some dark truths about themselves and each other. While the whimsical tone of the book doesn’t encourage too deep a look at the characters, Simon, Gregor, and Jennifer are all three well drawn and have their own satisfying character arcs.

This is a fun bit of horror with plot twists I don’t want to spoil. Most of the novel is a lighthearted mad scientist story with a romantic twist but there are a handful of gruesome murders that give this botanical fantasy a dark substrate. This book is honestly pretty weird. It’s the most quaint and charming little fantasy I’ve read in some time, but often that light and charming vibe only makes the horrific parts more horrific.

I liked those layers. I enjoyed being charmed and horrified by turns and I enjoyed watching these exaggerated characters take on more life and nuance as the book progressed. It was well done. It was exciting and unique. If you like books that give you nightmares or have really intense gore, this probably won’t be hardcore enough for you, but if you don’t mind the lighter side of dark and enjoy new twists on old tropes I highly recommend this one.

The Haunting of Blackwood House

Let’s talk about The Haunting of Blackwood House by Darcy Coates.

This book is popcorn reading, light and fun and undemanding. The main character, Mara, was raised by avid spiritualists and turned her back on it all the second she was old enough to live on her own. Of course she’ll land in a truly haunted house, forced to reassess her skepticism and realize her parents were onto something after all.

Her only other defining features are being stubborn and hating vegetables.

Her boyfriend Neil’s defining features are being ridiculously nice and cute. His only flaw is being kinda religious and believing maybe ghosts might be a little bit real.

They’re pleasant to read about but fairly forgettable. Everyone in the book is pretty much that. So is the plot, really. Straightforward, no real surprises.

The actual haunted house and its various ghosts, though, are awesome. I’m guessing the vivid and fascinating ghosts are the reason Darcy Coates takes up half a shelf at Barnes & Noble. We spend a lot of time learning about these ghosts and watching them haunt Blackwood House, endlessly repeating their most traumatic moments. We learn a bit about their pre-ghost lives and personalities, which are much more varied and interesting than Neil’s and Mara’s.

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And in this book, the ghosts can actually hurt you. At least one of these ghosts has an agenda, one beyond just driving people out of the house or scaring them to death, and that agenda powers some pretty terrifying violence. I liked this aspect a lot. I love a good haunted house story but they can feel a bit tame and silly once you realize the ghosts can’t do much besides bang around and make life inconvenient for the living. Sure, I wouldn’t want to live with a ghost that constantly hid my car keys or put spooky graffiti on my walls, but it’s more creepy than terrifying. These ghosts are a lot more powerful than that. They can manipulate your emotions and, when they really want to, literally push you around. This raises the stakes for Mara as she tries to cleanse her house of horrors and it leads to some genuinely deadly moments. I enjoyed that immensely.

This book is great for what it is. It’ll provide chills and thrills on a stormy night or help you while away the hours on a long trip without being too demanding, and it has just the right amount of blood and danger. The characters are easy and likeable, the action suitably suspenseful, and in the end the world is put right again. If there is such a thing, it’s kind of a cozy horror novel.

I’m a sucker for a good haunted house and if you are, too, this is a solid choice. It’s great for some cozy fall reading this spooky season. Also, if you read a lot of Darcy Coates, tell me if they’re all like this or if she’s also famous for something more?

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