What are you reading? — Page 60

Faxneld, Per - The Tree Of Sacrifice

Forty-four Folk-Gothic tales. An ideal book of interludes. Three pages each, and each with a woodblock illustration. Just the thing before bedtime, between books, between chapters of a novel.
These read like vintage campfire stories, or ominous fairy tales. While a few carry morals, most do not.
Some involve bad dealings, attempted cheats, or simply poor decisions.
More feature innocent souls, perhaps in the wrong place / situation, or Fate had tossed them a sorry hand of cards.
There are a few witches, more stories contain “cunning men” of variable skills.
This is NOT a book to be left on the nightstand of the guestroom – you will never see it again.

Marano, Michael - Stories From The Plague Years

Be not misled by the cover. Plague more often refers to AIDs, or drug addiction, instead of cholera or bubonic.
Likewise, do not be put off by the Cemetery Dance imprint, usually associated with pumpkins, Halloween, and coming-of-age nightmares. Breezy beach reads.
Not this outing.
Marano’s prose is dense, his style thickly textured, frequently elliptical with opening scenes returning by the conclusion.

“Displacement” listens to a creative serial killer. Why victims were chosen, and why an especially inventive method of dispatch employed.
The murderer, Dean, is a compelling, if arrogant, study. Unfortunately, the author seemed to tire of him by the end, and the tone shifted abruptly and, to my mind, not for the better.

“Little Round Head” is a stolen infant, probably human, possibly a discarded abortion, fostered by sewer rats. Throughout, I recalled the Harlen Ellison tale, “Croatoan”.

The final story, “Shibboleth”, is prescient, foretelling a global pandemic, the disruption and collapse of the supply chain, armed militias. The youthful pair venture out from the fortified city of Boston, hoping for improved chances in greener environments. Instead, they discover when lack of order occurs, human nature and good will plummets.
An ugly, telling prediction, and one we continue to tread closer to.

Weighell, Ron - Child Of The Dawn

A grief stricken husband takes the plunge and embarks into the netherworld, seeking his wife.
Leighton is no adept, nor a master; he is a mere dabbler. A wealthy tourist, perhaps he assumes his earthly skills will serve in the chaotic afterlife.
Things go terribly wrong. Fortunately, an adept is at hand, Malcroft, as well as his disciple. Along with Leighton’s two adult children, both of whom possess gifts.

Once this story gets going, the energy is propulsive.
Three narratives, Leighton in the void, his artistic son and the disciple beside his near-lifeless body, while his spiritualist daughter and adept Malcroft race to Egypt, enlisting the ferocious Mona.
To attempt a summoning that Aleister Crowley shirked, and regretted to his dying day.
The Egyptian track is the meat of the book, and is a thumping, pulpy adventure.
Much of this echoes “Entombed With The Pharaohs” (HPL / HH), and is claustrophobic, dangerous, laced with exploits.

This can be read as a page-turner, in which case this is a lot of fun.
Weighell has jammed this with references, however. Readers with an interest in Egyptology will seize with delight. Me, I know major deities, I know Bast (living with felines means awareness of Bastet is de rigueur). The ruins of Bubastis? Never heard of it. Weighell makes it unforgettable.
Other references dance around. Aleister Crowley, to a lesser degree Austin Osman Spare.
Again, these are backgrounded. You can enjoy this book, knowing nothing of them.

Down the line, if curious, there are plenty of areas to explore.
The novel is an erudite cliffhanger from a master storyteller, with a fond afterword from Ron’s widow, Fran.

Aoyama, Michiko - What You Are Looking For Is In The Library

Five stories of disconnected or lonely souls. Underachievers, never-weres, has-beens.
They gradually intersect at a small community library. Not necessarily physical connection, yet their stories and fates brush.
By the end, these threads are more apparent, and more contrived.

The librarian is stereotyped as gargantuan, which may put some off.
There are messages of a second act, even a third, and in many ways this is an inspirational read.
Female characters seem to fare better than males, in terms of actually improving their lot, or doing something about their lives rather than planning to do something.

Hiroya, 30, still lives with his mother, does not work, shuffles through life.
He wants employment he can be passionate about.
Masao, 65, retired, vegetating in his home, while his younger wife may or may not care.

Thinking afterward, I wondered if author Aoyama was making sly comments about men in society.

Jacobi, Carl - Revelations In Black

Jacobi’s first Arkham House collection is a doozy. One can see how he was held in high regard by fellow writers in the “weird” sphere.

The title story is a dreamlike echo of “Carmilla”, as our narrator is drawn to a rare set of autobiographical journals, and from there toward the dark eyed pearl.

Mr Grenning somehow acquires a cursed walking stick in “The Cane”. It exerts a sinister influence over him, while the history of the previous owner quietly unfolds.

“Canal” is a change of pace, set on the somewhat colonized Mars, where a desperate thief escapes through one of the forbidden waterways, where others have entered, and disappeared.

One collects books, to the other weapons, both obsessives, yet in different fields, so they are not rivals. The common link in “The Spectral Pistol” is that their remote village is best by a ravening wolf

‘The Tombs From Beyond” dives deep into HPL territory. A Polynesian temple has been transported, block by block, to the explorer’s country lake, in hopes of a museum or tourist draw. The wealthy adventurer failed to consider that something unspeakable might accompany the tomb.

Royalton Manor has been crumbling for decades. Repairs were beyond the last of the line, so he lives with memories and rising dust. And a tenant, Classilda, charity case, a crone of foul aspect. A wall that has stood for centuries needs restoration, despite warnings to leave well enough alone. In “The Face In The Wind” the wall is, indeed, reworked and forces are unleashed. A classic supernatural story, steeped in old myths.

Three cheers to Valencourt Press for reissuing this long OP book.

Keene, Brian - Little Silver Book Of Street Wise Stories

Wise authors view these “Little” books as an introduction to new readers.
At least, one feels Keene has done this, selecting very good, very choice stories.

“Dust”, which references Manhattan, September 11th, still carries a bite two decades on.

There also a SciFi gem in “The Two-Headed Alien Love Child”. A G-Man, working his own special brief, deals with interlopers, casual, careless, hit-n-run sorts. Read to the end for the sting.

“Bunnies In August” is a sorrowful paddle into guilt. Accidents, misdeeds, and the knowledge that even if catastrophes are not your fault, consequences may still leave one wounded.

Keene’s popular dealer of closure is given back-to-back slices in “I Am An Exit” and “This Is Not An Exit”. Recommend to read both together to stay in the mood.

Marriage on the rocks, accursed job, a life little more than a waste of space, poozie woozie is appalled at the miserable cell he has placed himself into. The closure guy is not about, and yet in “Without You” a typically American solution is nearby.

Santa Claus, mob hitmen, an alien deity? “The Siqquism Who Stole Christmas” throws these displaced sorts into the blender for a funny, if unmerry Yule yarn. Oh yeah, reindeer, too!

McCarthy, Cormac - Two Ungathered Stories

Two very early stories, missing from collections and anthologies, first published in 1959 / 1960 in a University of Tennessee zine.
Both bear a style resemblance to Ernest Hemingway, especially his Nick Adams character.
“Wake For Susan” follows a young man into a rural cemetery, contemplating the gravestone of a 17 year old who had died a century earlier. What was she like? Did she have a fella? Dreams? A life, at 17, somehow cut short.
The second, “A Drowning Incident”, is more bitterish. Seething anger over a lie, a deception, followed by a horrific deed. The discoverer then opts for quiet revenge, and the eventual explosion.
Both hard to find, worthwhile if you can.
These came from a small bookshop in Penrith.

Mayor, F. W. - The Room Opposite

For years, Sundial Press listed this as forthcoming. Then, during the Pandemic, the press shuttered (RIP Frank Kibblewhite) and I sighed that it was gone again.
Not so!
Nezu Press has resurrected this collection, including Gina Collia’s generous notes.

The title story is a wraparound one, as two friends set forth on separate journeys. The younger spends an uncomfortable night in a sinister inn. The older friend? His experience reflects the darker shade of the mirror, with Chance a cruel jester.

The elusive stranger appears in “The Kind Action Of Mr Robinson”. Marsden, owing to foolish gambling, is in debt. Until a black clad figure sidles up and loans him £500, to be repaid in the far future. Repayment if only he survives to the due date.

“Tales Of The Widow Weeks” present anecdotes of the venomous village crone. Some whisper witch, but who believes in witches? And what harm could a trinket or small box cause?

Women outnumber men in the boarding house. Several relocate frequently. While there, they brag about their son, or nephew, or grandson. Glorious males. “Christmas Night At The Almira” finds Mrs Gwynne waiting for her oh-so busy son. A mournful tale of aging discards.

“Mother And Daughter” is similar, with the bright young thing nervously dashing about, while her mother simply wants to sit still, enjoy each others’ company.

Spinsters and widows abide at the battered holiday home, as do the stray gentlemen. Add the lone young female, and the shy, yet interested young man. “The Lounge At The Royal”, where the ladies observe and pen letters, where every tomorrow may bring the gust of unpleasant change.

Mayor’s eye for the plight of females is piercing in these surplus women stories.

Then there is Flora’s essay on her time in rep, “Life In A Touring Company”.
The resplendent, glittering theatre exteriors contrasted with the cramped, shabby dressing rooms.
Malicious hierarchies, the troupe as family, pressures of travel, wretched food, and financial security – what is that? Yet for all that, the stage beckons!
Oh, that Arthur Machen was able to read this. Or today, Reggie Oliver.
♪ Hi diddle dee dee …

Friss, Evan - The Bookshop: A History Of The American Bookstore

Sweeping from the very first one in Philadelphia, started by a young printer named Franklin.
Continuing through early colonial clusters in Boston and New York, even those that stocked banned writers such as Thomas Paine.
Mr Friss is quite upfront that he cannot include every bookshop, including your favorites.
Midway, the book reaches modern survivors such as the Strand, touching on genre specific fronts, even sidewalk vendors.
Before proceeding to more the questionable. “You’ve Got Mail” (a film I loathed) based on its counterpart, Barnes & Noble. Then the gorilla, Amazon.
Borders is mentioned, as is Waldonbooks, B Dalton, City Lights.

The plight of small bookshops mirrors that of small town merchants.
Growing up, Main Street in my hometown was bustling and vibrant. In the 1980’s, City Hall allowed a mall on the outskirts. Main Street began to perish. Years later, Walmart came, killing the mall and what was left of Main Street. In earlier times, merchants lived in the town, participated, and their revenues stayed in the town. Profits with corporate chains streamed out of the town.
Such was nationwide. Every small bookshop owner can relate.

Friss cannot mention all, but I will breathe a couple.
Scene Of The Crime, on Ventura Blvd then elsewhere, specializing in crime and mystery.
Dangerous Visions, sanctioned by Harlan Ellison, also on Ventura, carrying SciFi and fantasy.
Not to forget the strictly mail order shops. More than any, the one name I miss, and desperately wish was still active, is Common Reader.

This is a highly enjoyable book, although it left me conflicted. Perhaps guilty.
By and large, I do not shop at bookshops, and I purchase a lot of books.
Instead, I buy direct from small presses. No middleman, the publisher pockets any profit.
Decades ago, I made that choice and never looked back.
Main thing, keep buying books, keep reading.

Crowther, Peter - Thoughtful Breaths

If Norman Rockwell had penned a gentle haunting, this could have been it.
Boswell and Irma enjoy a storybook romance, courtship, marriage. They are blessed with family and friends. Money is less plentiful.
Boswell always longs to travel. See the wide world, the glittering and the exotic.
Someday, he thinks, when he and Irma are older, have more time, more money.
Fate shuffles the deck, deals the hand.
Boswell does get to travel, after a fashion, and includes his family.
Again, this is a gentle novella, republished by PS Press.
A soft, warm light in a darkening world.

Palma, Clemente - Malevolent Tales

Late to the Decadent Party, and penned in a country (Peru) where the consequences could well be dire, Palma’s stories shy away from the conte cruel, and blasphemy is more a flirtation.

“The Last Faun” shows the Olympian gods displaced from the earth, with a young faun overlooked. He matures into a satyr, without any congenial nymphs. Until he spies an attractive group of novices, and he fails to grasp the difference between a nymph and a nun.

Ernesto long courted Suzón. He is melancholy, serious, while Suzón is vivacious. An ideal match. In “A Vulgar Story” hopes and aspirations are dashed, in a sordid reveal.

Do we really live? Or is life an illusion? In “The White Farm” our narrator is pledged to Cordelia, even after she is stricken with malaria. After fevered prayers, she recovers, and the pair flee to his isolated rural estate. Again, do we really live? Or is happiness itself a dream?

Fortunately, the doctor recognizes the tell-tale signs. Punctures on the neck, the ebbing of life force. His young man is troubled by “The Vampires”. His recommended prescription – get married? For many, isn’t that merely changing one vamp for another? If viewed that way, this can be comical.

“The Tragic Day” is the longest yarn, an apocalyptic doom that approaches with Halley’s Comet. You Lifeforce fanatics, please settle down. Death lies in the dust of the tail that will sweep and engulf the planet, killing all life within seconds. Humanity reacts predictably: prayer, pillage, suicide. Yet, our narrator, perhaps like others, has a survival plan. This is a gripping story, although it feels like Palma wrote himself into a corner as the ending is a brick toss.

My copy is from a new press, Strange Ports, specializing in obscure or forgotten decadence.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Valentine, Mark - Thunderstorm Collectors

Adventures in browsing. Finding treasure in the untidy and less dusted stacks. Internet bookselling has, regrettably, eliminated many chance finds.

“Our Mortal Longing” is a concise evaluation of Walter de la Mare, not of the man, but a guide to reading his works. Understanding his point of view and methods. Compare / contrast with similar authors.

“Devilled Almonds And Doomed Boys” unearths several of the more adventurous poets of the 1920’s – perhaps the last decade before poetry became marginalized. And the poets he explores are heady youths, indeed.

“Arthur Machen And The Mysteries Of The Grail” is fascinating reading for historians of the relic, yet irresistible for fans of the writer. His speculations of “the cup”, theories on what it actually is. For Machen readers, this is compelling, and I hope it is reprinted elsewhere.

Machen’s last spurt of fiction writing is discussed in “It Is Getting Very Late & Dark.”

In ”A Landscape Detective” wanders through bygone travel guides, particularly those traipsing the less frequented regions. As with many older guidebooks, there is a poignant melancholy for sites and places passing away, as well as those already vanished.

“Lost Sovereigns” notes several claimants to the throne. Eccentrics, fools or … perhaps … who knows?

Brossard, Chandler - Raging Joys, Sublime Violations

What is this? Midlife crisis? Evidence of substance overload?
About a decade after the Vietnam conflict ended, Brossard pitched his 2¢.

The initial chapter occurs on a cruise liner, where passengers obsess over sex.
Next section, a female sherpa and more sex. Sex and anatomy.

Should you hang with this, then by 6, he decides to satirize Vietnam vets. Satire is a mild word, since what he is actually dealing is sarcasm. For those with long memories, recall John Knowles and his thoughts about the protests of sarcasm.

Anyway, in #6, Brossard mocks the Vietnam vets, now stateside, still giddily raping and killing. This is a cheap shot as most of the US boys in Vietnam were drafted and never wanted to be there at all.

Chapter #8 may prove insufferable to non-history fanatics. Names roll out like a stultifying dirge. Dean Acheson, William Fulbright, Melvin Laird, Dick Helms, Dean Rusk, Henry Cabot Lodge, Ron Ziegler, Allen Dulles – John Foster Dulles. Enough? If you don’t know the names, you may miss the joke.

#15, Brossard tackles Kissenger. Now that was pretty funny, I must admit.
Otherwise, if you were born after 1962, this book will be an obscuro history farce.

I have enjoyed other Chandler Brossard books in the past. I enjoy and buy Corona \ Samizdat releases. This one, however, is a complete miss for me. It is already in the box of Salvation Army donations.
Oh yeah, the cover features penis art. Fitting, I suppose.

Madsack, Paul - The Black Magician

Artist Kukuma makes a deal with – well, please, not the Devil. After all, he has so many names, so many guises. And makes so many “arrangements”.
Kukuma, now rebranded as Aventino, is soon a fast-rising sculptor and artist, a powerful influencer of the sheeple. As ever was, followers love to be guided, told what to do, so they do not have to think, or attempt to think.
Chief opponent to Aventino is fellow artist and firm friend, Fiedler. Fiedler’s admiration is wary; he resists where others succumb.
Then there is the Chinese mannequin, who dispenses advice within dreams:

“Distrust the Black Magician who borrows the halo of virtue. He knows how to turn words beautifully and plays the wrong game with human destiny. Do not let yourself be blinded by the appearance of doing good, the devil has always been one who only leases pleasure and joy. From his black cornucopia he scatters gifts like gold and silver, but it is nothing but dust and ashes, just blinding people’s eyes.”

A subversive novel, darkly comical, written during the Weimar era (which nations seem to be foolishly repeating), reflecting events, and cannily predicting the misery caused when entrusting the strong man, the embittered soul, to take the helm of their fates.