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What are you reading? — Page 62

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Various (Editor: Black, Andy) - Necronomicon Three

Following Vol 01 and 02, this shows a change of publisher, and two aspects are immediately apparent. The type is larger. Same amount of pages, but with larger type the word count will be less. In addition, many images are iffy. Several are so poor as to resemble Xerox copies. Lastly, the typos are off the scale. Where is the editor throughout?

Alright, the good stuff: Opening with a humorous interview with Brian Yunza (Necronomicon, The Dentist, Dagon, From Beyond, Re-Animator), who doesn’t take his output too seriously.

Back to back articles on Scream And Scream Again (stylistically all over the place), and Baron Blood (now on my list) and others.

“The Modern Fantastic” roves from Carpenter’s The Thing to Lynch’s Fire Walk With Me, studying both films in depth.

Editor Black offers a nice remembrance of Soledad Miranda.

Essay on Herzog’s Nosferatu will be a must for fans of the film or director. Likewise another chapter on Rodriguez’s From Dusk Till Dawn, with emphasis on colleague Tarantino.

As always with this collection, a few resemble overwritten college papers, fine for those who long for additional psychological explanations for their Slashers.

There is an excellent argument for Stivaletti’s Wax Mask, another one that passed below radar, both mine and the public’s it seems.

Should I mention Wicker Man, Eyes Without A Face, Faceless? Final essays conclude another strong group of film essays.

Here’s hoping Black will rein in the typos by volume 4, and quality proof those images.

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Stoker, Bram - “Gibbet Hill”

City dweller, escaping the London bustle, escapes to Surrey for a day trip.
Climbing the hill, he spies a young married couple, fellow tourists, and a trio of children.
The children later engage in a odd ritual involving a flute, dance, and a snake.
Whereupon our narrator becomes spellbound.
Recently discovered “forgotten story” is cropping up from various presses.
Mine hailed from a small Penrith bookshop, from where I have found other gems.

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Collins, Max - Quarry’s Ex

Quarry is Collins’ gravy train, professional hitman, although by now, quasi retired.
He makes a living offering services to targets, dropping the killers and snuffing whoever hired.
Noir pulp all the way, in the vein of Mickey Spillane.
Quarry runs into his two-timing ex, Joni, now married to a director of exploitation flicks.
Joni is curvy and is still sexy. So is Tiffany, lead actress, ex-Playmate Of The Year.
So is Ginger, one of the young production team gofers. Waitresses, maids? All attractive.
Women are dolls, men vary from bikers to mobsters.
This provides a bit of a backstory, younger days, his progression into the world of contracts.
Collins writes old-fashioned, two-fisted stories for men.
If you enjoy those kind of novels, you should like this one.

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Shelley, Mary ?? - The Ghost Of The Private Theatricals

Parents died when the children were young.
Next, the children were separated. Ida with a stern grandmother, Hermine with a cheery aunt.
Brother Otto enjoys free range between families, who seem estranged owing to old grievances.
Age 18, Ida is permitted to travel to visit sister Hermine, in a well placed castle.
For entertainment, a decision is made to enact a private theatrical.
Servants, friends, family, all engaged, whether active parts, or stagecraft or wardrobe.
Hectic and elaborate. Above all others, Hermine throws herself into the bustle.
Dense prose, at times extended, other instances gushy. Know your preferences, friend.
Recently discovered “forgotten story” published in 1843, written by M.S.
Mary Shelley? Some authorities say yes, others say not so fast.
Quality chapbook from Adam Newell’s bookshop in Penrith.

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Various (Editor: Pardoe, Rosemary) - Ghosts & Scholars Book Of Landscape Figures

Editor Pardoe hints that this may be the final G&S assortment. Here’s hoping she has a change of heart.

Not all locations feature chalk drawn figures, as “The White Round” indicates. The narrator relates the quest; two of the globes are visible, yet the third is hidden, for good reason.

Many figures have vanished, through neglect or obfuscation. “Figures On A Hillside” suggests the latter, although our characters’ curiosity regarding the sinister Shuttle-go borders on reckless.

“Chalk” is pitch black humor. The vain, careless girl, much, much too pretty for casual layabouts.

One yarn tries to be funny – tries hard and fails. To hammer home every attempt, the author resorts to italics, ALL CAPS, and a river of exclamation points!!! Akin to the stale comedian going, “Get it? Get it?”

“The Regulars” were at their usual pub, when one inquired about the painting behind the bar. Of the founder. The scion who built seven pubs, five of which form a star. Alcohol, they say, clouds judgment and spurs inquisitiveness. Oh, our lads are resourceful.

‘Whatever really happened to Parnell?’ asks one of the more insistent fellows of the club. “Dyrehill Park” is an old-fashioned yarn. Fireplace, armchairs, cigars and whiskey. Suffice to say, Parnell, an amateur historian, went “looking”.

Lo, those amazing ghost experts, whether televised, podcasters, or scribblers. Bunch of right wallys if you ask me. What? Yes, I know, you didn’t ask me. Eric somehow finds himself in the Ghost Hunters’ Club, out to find “The Lickey Beast”. Of course, our perky host and he cameraman see nothing – that lot wouldn’t see a ferret in their living room. Yet Eric, along with another guest, senses a presence. And the presence senses him in return.

An imaginative array here. Not simply hillside chalk on moonlit rambles. Let these inspire you. Create something in your own tired backyard. Perhaps the Asherah pole.

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Marvick, Louis - Maculate Vision And Other Stories

Vision stained, vision polluted. A thick half dozen stories, many that earlier appeared in an Side Real Press collection, now OP.

The title piece is a dark amusement. An inheritance with a blasted provision. Yet, Eddie so needed the money, he accepted the uncanny painting. He knew his uncle was up to something.

“Is For Ilinx” wears better a second read around. The Texas caricature still rings off-key, but heightens the disparity between boorish wealth and jaded experience. Conte cruel, this one.

“Of Interactive Surveillance And The Circular Firing Squad” draws us into the rarefied world of Classical music prodigies, tasked with tutoring untrained children, damaged in various ways. The tone is one of anxiety and confusion, building to a grotesque finale.

Zagava has published several Louis Marvick books, and appears to be championing his works. He is well worth investigation by fans of Weird Lit with a taste for extended style over gore and fluids.

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The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King

All his life has he looked away… to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph!

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Russell, R B - The Woman Who Fell To Earth

The woman would be Catherine, who fell to her death on Tanya’s roof. Once friends, they had cooled after Catherine wed Tanya’s favorite uncle, and began appropriating.
Is there a police investigation of just how Catherine fell, apparently, from open sky? Alas.
Catherine was the champion of an esoteric horror writer cum hack. After his death, she had jealously guarded his papers, as well as the sixtystone *.
Tensions notwithstanding, Catherine’s will made Tanya the executrix of everything. Almost immediately, interlopers appear: rivals, cheats, liars, poseurs, thieves.
All simmering the narrative. Until – midway – an unexpected individual arrives.
The plot becomes haphazard, loose, improvised, bordering on what I call fantasy island.
I will guess the author was being playful, lightening the tone, although I found it awkward.
I read to the conclusion, hoping, hoping, yet the energy had drained and the tale sputtered out.

  • Sixtystone: an in-joke or knowing reference. To familiarize yourself, read Machen’s Three Imposters first; it’s a brief novel. If time pressed, read the story “The Novel Of The Black Seal.”

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 (Edited)

Hall, Leland - Sinister House

Pierre and Annette flee the grime and soot perils of Gotham for upstate New York. Small, rural Forsby. Fresh air and a wholesome setting to raise their children.
Neighbors and friends Eric and Julia live near enough in a run down dwelling that has seen better days. Julia had fallen in love with it at first sight, despite the flaws.
So much for domestic bliss.
The decaying house shelters a malignant spirit, bent on inflicting harm, then escalating.
Published in 1914, following the Great War, the narrative dawdles along. No flappers, no Roaring Twenties tempo here. The look and outlook of characters seem to presage a Norman Rockwell painting.
While the supernatural elements are dangerous, there are simply not enough of those forces. Instead, Hall fills the book with the kitchen sink dramas of Annette & Pierre & Eric & Julia.

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Gardner, Erle Stanley - The Count Of 9

Private eyes Cool & Lam are involved in another mystery.
Bertha, less so much in this outing.
While she provides security for a shindig, guarding the penthouse elevator, a second jade statue is still stolen, along with a six foot blowpipe.
Donald Lam is a charmer, though, and soon sweet talks a bevy of lovelies.
Extremely fast moving read filled with arrogant boasters and brawny cops.
Did I mention the females? Ripe curves who find testosterone the greatest aphrodisiac.
Overall mystery is pretty fair, and Gardner keeps one guessing throughout.
The writer also plays fair and never cheats or adds revelations.
Typical of 50’s innuendo, don’t expect corks to pop in your presence.

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Kidō, Okamoto - Master Of The Uncanny

Not Horror per se, but strange tales, generally unexplained. Often relating to animals or (not so) ordinary objects. Perhaps best for those who enjoy FLIT.

The stranger appears at the doorstep of the woodcutter. His son, usually sociable, is terrified. “The Kiso Traveler” is polite enough, yet his presence makes others uneasy.

It was an ugly little antique. A carved monkey with glittering eyes that seemed to watch. “The Monkey’s Eyes” is one of possessing, watching.

“The Snake Spirit” involves the snake catcher. Most villages know of one nearby. Pythons can grow quite large, with appetites to match. The catcher has techniques, but one specific snake seems immune to all human snares and wiles.

Masuemon loved “Crabs”. Not to play with, nor merely regard, but as the dinner course. Except, when it appears they may be poisoned, and a friend prophesies more may be tainted. But why?

“The White Haired Demon” distracts the aspiring time and again during his bar examination. To the point he has failed time and again. He does not understand why it haunts him, although when he finally tells his father, the older man urges him to give up that ambition, return home and find a new career. This is a meandering tale that takes several turns.

This is not a collection or horrors, none are action oriented. Many have ambiguous conclusions, but all show and elegant charm. Kidō’s style is understated. Characters not always fully fleshed, yet the scenes and scenery are always well described and atmospheric.

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Youngson, Anne - Meet Me At The Museum

Fifty years after being mentioned in an introduction, Tina writes Professor Glob of Silkeborg…
Mind you, he is long gone, but her query is answered by the museum curator.
From thence springs a lively correspondence between Tina and Anders.
That is much of the charm of this novel. Reading their letters, seeing their friendship deepen and progressing with each missive.
That is also the weakness of the book, and I have to set aside my skepticism and disbelief.
Ours is an era when few write actual letters. When even writing a paragraph is too taxing for most.
I found one early remark sadly accurate. “I have found that is no use to write … more than three or four lines because whoever receives it will not read to the end.”
That phrase hung with me throughout the exchanges, and I stayed disassociated.
Near the end, one of the characters receives a sharp turn which felt more like the heavy hand of the author. Then again, the time frame of the novel is barely more than a year, so I suppose compression of events might be forgiven.

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I started reading Northwest of Earth the complete Northwest Smith.

The first short story was incredibly strange. C.L. Moore.

I found it very uncomfortable to read. Shambleau. I will try and continue on with some of the other stories but maybe it’s not for me.

This book was claimed to be Han Solo or Indiana Jones like and its nothing like that, and not like Edgar Rice Burroughs John Carter stories either.

I do remember reading A Merritt The Moon Pool.

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Harsch, Rick - The Periphus Of Spur Tank Road

Hotel Ganesh, India, evening, sultry outside, bordering on stifling.
Character Rick relaxes on the terrace, trying to enjoy, appreciate, think.
When a monkey, a Bonnet Macaque to be precise, hisses, “Hey Mac.”
Rick, being a creative sort, doesn’t find a talking monkey so unusual, and the two begin a conversation.
From here, gentle reader, drop any preconceptions. Just switch off the damn TV and hang on.
Exchanges range from lurid history, to volleys against the preening indecency of humanity.
Yes, yes, I know, we mean well. Yet, when we do what we do – oops, sorry.
Vasco da Gama may get singled out, but he is merely a stand-in for the horde.
Our monkey, soon calling itself Pagan, speaks a fractured English.
For the best, as our author has not included dialogue markers (he said, Pagan replied)
We navigate a jungle of words, often confused or meandering.
Very enjoyable, if you have a taste for this, although I often suspected the author was on a bender, free-styling impressions while his hallucinations were fresh.

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Newell, Martin - The Greatest Living Englishman

Compromise score this. For those unfamiliar with Newell, this is likely a 3. For readers who have several of his other books, as well as a slew of records, this is a 5. And essential.
Followup to This Little Ziggy picks up immediately after events of that memoir.
Time frame runs roughly twenty years, from 1974 to 1995.
The fatigued demise of The Mighty Plod to the “The Off White Album”.
In-between are creative adventures, as well as the slog of the ups and downs.
This entertaining book relies on diaries and journals, and feels fairly accurate.

I am long familiar with Newell the musician. In the early 1990’s coworkers at the record shop, bemused by a lizard tea party, opened The Brotherhood Of Lizards compact disc and played it in-store for a few months. I bought that, then later, “The Greatest Living Englishman” on CD, followed by more titles on small labels and from JAR.
For curious buyers, this book is exorbitantly priced at mainstream book dealers. Avoid those.
Martin sells this book direct on Bandcamp. He gave me permission to include the link.
https://thecleanersfromvenus.bandcamp.com/merch/the-greatest-living-englishman
Martin is a “cottage industry”. Support him and others like him, rather than second-hand souls.
Goodnight, Illya.

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Oyston, David - Poems From The Sideshow

Confession. Poetry isn’t really my bag. I lost my appetite for it decades ago. Likely my age; time dwindling by the moment, and me urging the poet to get to the damn point already.
This collection makes for an exception, however. For me. And for those who are familiar with the Broodcomb Peninsula.

The sideshow feels like a midpoint between the settlements and the caravans, with a sizeable population of geeks, gaffs and assorted misfits.

Initial section strolls from tent to tent, wagon to wagon, meeting individuals. Characters. And yes, this is poetry. This leisurely introduction is approximately half the book.

Next, a rollicking wedding. Where bashful clash with the obnoxious. Guests invited, as well as the menacing interloper. Poetry notwithstanding, on the Peninsula, danger is ever a breath away.

Following the reception, there is dispersing. Guests scatter and page after page is crammed with fragmented dialogues and thoughts. Readers who have read sections in order will be on surer footing, in that you might differentiate voices. Navigating each and every page here might intimidate.

Did I enjoy this? Not altogether. Oh, this is heady stuff. Again and again, however, my mind drifted back to the settlements, to the caravans.

One stanza lingered with me long after I closed the book:

“Always distrust the perfect smile
Crook tooth, split tooth, yellow canine
or lost incisor is more honest
than the faultless light of a white smile.”

I immediately thought of what passes for our modern smile. The rictus grin. Teeth clenched, lips raised in an ironic sneer. The social tease of the beauty contestant, the prostitute, the politician. Disdain cloaked by warmth. Frauds and fakes. While the spectators, gullible fools, are so often you and I.
Be safe out in the Wide World, friend.

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Willeford, Charles - Understudy For Death

Richard toils the graveyard shift at the small town rag in Florida.
He has a wife, a son, yet he works nights so during the day he can polish his play.
Been working on that play five years already.
The managing editor assigns him a story about a local murder / suicide.
Young mother, who killed her two children before herself.
Richard is a piece of work, antagonizing most everyone he encounters.
Likely his wife Beryl most all. Beryl is Southern belle down to her heels and wonderful to read.
The book is another left field title from Hard Case Crime, as there is no crime, aside from suicide which generally distresses most folks.
Lot of carnal bouncing in this, although not graphic (originally published in 1961).
Similar to John Dexter fare, or titles from Candid Reader or Late-Hour Library.
While the narrative meandered and muddled along, I did enjoy it.
Not necessarily main character Richard, but the supporting characters and especially his sly bride.

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Blakeston, Oswell - The Hut And Other Stories Of Dread

Occult Press unearths a bit of obscurity here. Blakeston, pseudonym for Henry David Hasslacher, had a colorful career, starting out as a conjuror’s assistant. The stories in this range far and wide.

It’s the headache, beastly thing, that steered events. David leaves work early, races for the train, and lands himself in First Class. In “Adventure Without Asking” David finds his equilibrium worsening, along with the migraine. Then, there is persistently yawning, repellent, gnome-like man.

Was the death murder? Or something else? In a sealed room, by drowning, in “The Mysterious Fluid”. Houdini is not called, but the superintendent is well versed in magician trickery.

“The Hut” is a particularly nasty place. Perhaps not the dwelling, although it had been the site of hideous evil before. Such places always seem to attract the wrong element, as well a stream of fools.

Superintendent Deering features several times. “The Disappearance” follows him in pursuit of a criminal organizer. A receiver of stolen property, a fence to employ slang. This bears a touch of what might have passed for SciFi in the 1930’s.

“The Secret Of The Graves” is the longest, and the closest to Pulp. A child’s grave has been desecrated and the village newcomer is Suspect #1. The mystery, and not a harmless one, involves a hard-nosed village cop, a troubled medium, and an isolated manor.

There are also two extra pieces that skirt around Austin Osman Spare. Readers with knowledge of the London artist will appreciate these more.