Showing posts with label weird fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weird fiction. Show all posts

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

Recommendation: The Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer


I very rarely read trilogies these days, as there seem to be so many stories spun out to three volumes (or more) for purely commercial reasons. And I can’t remember the last time I read a series of books all the way through without pausing to read something else – it was probably over a decade ago. But I'm glad I made an exception for Jeff VanderMeer’s masterful Southern Reach trilogy, comprising of Annihilation, Authority and Acceptance.
I'm talking about all three books here, so SPOILERS.
These trilogy centres around Area X, a mysterious wilderness that has been quarantined behind an intangible border after what has been described to the world as an environmental disaster, although Area X is in fact too clean, impossibly free from traces of human contamination or pollutants. The Southern Reach agency are responsible for trying to understand Area X, which they primarily do by sending expeditions across the border. The expeditions reveal little about Area X, often because those who return seem... different. Diminished, lacking even the memory of how they got back. The first book, Annihilation, tells the story of one such expedition to Area X, the members of which are just described by their functions – The Psychologist, The Biologist etc. Despite appearing to be just a natural wilderness, there's plenty of strangeness in Area X: modern technology doesn't work consistently, there’s a howling thing in the reeds, and a ‘topographical anomaly’ they decide to explore…  It also becomes clear that the Southern Reach agency is almost as opaque and sinister as Area X itself, and this is taken up as the main thread of the second book, Authority which tells of a new director of the Southern Reach. Authority takes place almost entirely in the offices of the agency (although Area X does intrude in the form of notes by the previous director, and interviews with a returnee from the expedition from the first book…. and in other ways). This was probably my favourite book in the series, with the uncanny story set off against John Le Carre style intrigue and mixed motivations.
The third volume brings together characters and events from the first two books, as well as adding some back-story about people who lived in Area X before it changed. There are answers and some neat character arc summations, but suffice to say Area X remains almost as much as an enigma at the end of the trilogy as at the start. One of the central ideas of these books is how little we can know or understand about the truly alien. And that could be alien, capital W genre Weirdness… or simply the weirdness of the natural world around us, which we can’t comprehend even as we destroy it. There’s a strong environmental thread running through these books; too often in fiction this is clumsily handled and it’s to VanderMeer’s credit that here it emerges seamlessly from the narrative and characters. Aside from anything else, it’s nice to read some genre fiction so engaged with the natural world; these books have some wonderfully evocative descriptions of landscapes, the sea, birds and plant-life. VanderMeer’s prose manages to be both taut and concrete whilst building the dream-like, paranoid atmosphere of Area X and the Southern Reach. Some readers may not like at the lack of clear answers, at the nameless characters sometimes as opaque as the mystery they are investigating. But for those looking for an lyrical and unique blend of science-fiction, spy-thriller, and uncanniness would be well advised to make the journey to the Southern Reach and Area X forthwith...

Thursday, 30 January 2014

Strange Hotels


I've been thinking for a while about why so many horror stories seem to be set in hotels or hotel rooms. Some of these stories, of course, are just using a hotel as a version of the haunted house, which I'm not really talking about here. Rather, I'm talking about such stories of shifting identity as Nicholas Royle's The Reunion, Hannah Kate's Great Rates, Central Location, Ramsey Campbell's Double Room... and even parts of The Shining. (And I’d be lying if I said I wasn't also thinking about my own The Other Room, and to a lesser extent The Time Of Their Lives from Falling Over.) Each of these stories seems to share a number of similar ideas and tropes: there are seemingly multiple version of the same character, overlapping timelines, and hotels with layouts that don’t make sense. (They’re all excellent, too.) But why are hotels such fertile settings for twisted weird tales like these, when staying away from home is normally considered a luxury?
 You’re Outside Of Your Comfort Zone: firstly, of course, when you stay at a hotel you’re in an environment outside of the one you know best. And within that environment you might be doing some fairly intimate things like sleeping or shitting or... well, you get the picture. All somewhere where the dimensions of the room aren't as you are used to, where the duvet feels heavier atop you than you’d like, and the pictures and mirrors aren't in the places you’d choose. (Of course, in the Other Room there are no mirrors at all.) And the sight outside their window isn't even your home town.
 
You’re Alone: in a few of these stories you’re not a part of a family or couples, but a lone business-person or someone else who has a reason to stay in a hotel on their own. (For a fiction convention, maybe...) There’s the boredom of sitting in your room watching TV alone, drinking alone and eating alone, despite the fact there might be others watching you do so, who seem equally alone. Which brings us to:
You’re Not Alone: there's the staff of course, and the other guests. Strange faces at the breakfast table; disturbing sounds through the adjoining wall. People you have to stand too close to in the lift. They could be anyone. But then also:
You Could Be Anyone: and this I think is the key to a lot of it. Staying alone, in a city you've never been to before and don’t plan to return to, you can be anyone. Or at least, that’s the fantasy. Slip off your wedding ring (or slip a different one on…),  drink more than you normally would, say things you’d never normally say to people you would normally not dare speak to. Somehow it all seems more permissible than at other times, it seems like there is less consequence to the things you do…
But in that, these stories seem to tell you, you are horribly wrong.
I’d be interested to hear about any other hotel-horror stories you can think of in the comments. Surely there’s a themed  anthology or two along these lines as well?

Saturday, 20 July 2013

Wish List

So, I've a new story out in the charity anthology Murder, Madness, and Mystery.

My story is called Wish List and it's about at least two of the three Ms in the anthology's title, as well as the dangers of owning to many books...

100% of the proceeds from this anthology are donated to The Hunger Project, so I'm very happy to be involved. You can buy the anthology from Amazon (UK | US).



Also, I'd to mention  The Year's Best Weird Fiction, a crowd-funding project I've contributed to here. It's a new venture, being published by Michael Kelly (behind Shadows & Tall Trees, a really good horror magazine) and the first volume will be edited by Laid Barron. Do check it out.

Thursday, 11 July 2013

Monday, 8 July 2013

Falling Over - Early Copies...

So, Falling Over, my collection of short stories from Infinity Plus is available from Createspace now. Paperback and ebook copies will be coming from Amazon and other booksellers soon...

Edit: Paperback is now available on Amazon (UK | US) .

I'm very pleased and excited about this book; I think it contains some of my best stories to date and I'll be doing some guest blog spots about some of the influences behind them over the coming weeks. And I'll no doubt have lots to say here as well; be warned. (Do check out the other titles coming from Infinity Plus too - they look cracking.)


Sometimes when you fall over you don’t get up again. And sometimes, you get up to find everything has changed:

An ordinary man who sees his face in a tabloid newspaper. A soldier haunted by the images of those he has killed from afar. Two petty criminals on the run from a punishment more implacable than either of them can imagine. Doppelgängers both real and imaginary. A tranquil English village where those who don’t fit in really aren't welcome, and a strange hotel where second chances are allowed… at a price.

Ten stories of unease, fear and the weird from James Everington.

"Good writing gives off fumes, the sort that induce dark visions, and Everington’s elegant, sophisticated prose is a potent brew. Imbibe at your own risk." - Robert Dunbar, author of The Pines and Martyrs & Monsters

Monday, 10 June 2013

Vortex by Robert Dunbar

On the day I was born, the headline in The Daily Mail was "WEREWOLF KILLER CAUGHT."

This is just one of many things I have learnt from Robert Dunbar's new book, Vortex.(UK | US)

Vortex is a non-fiction book, and it is Dunbar's personal exploration of the roots of many of contemporary horror's best known beasts, plus a few lesser known ones as well. From the Jersey Devil to vampires, from sirens and mermaids to were-creatures of all kinds, Dunbar examines the roots behind these legends - how the stories have changed over time, and how they have remained the same. There are also some chapters on film, the most interesting being the one about the theme of 'the other' in horror movies - which groups society marks out as its 'monsters'.

Regular readers will know that Dunbar is one of the favourite horror authors I've discovered in recent years, so I wasn't surprised to discover how well written Vortex is. However, the tone is very different to his dense, thoughtful fiction, being a witty and frequently self-mocking read. It's certainly no dry-as-dust academic piece; in fact given that half the time he's talking about real life cannibals or witch-burnings or mass-murders, it's a very gleeful book. My favourite section was that about The Jersey Devil, a monster Dunbar has made very much his own in an early novel, in a deliberate attempt to move away from the over-used, over-European monsters that still rear their heads in such a great deal of horror fiction. Being a boring old European myself, this was all new to me. Like many other parts of this book, I learnt a lot, and had a blast doing so.

So, a thoroughly engaging and enjoyable ride through some of the most horrific myths and real-life events imaginable. Very much recommended for anyone with an interest in Dunbar's work, or in horror fiction in general. There were some sections I wish were longer and went into more detail, but maybe I'm just wishing for a sequel.

Here's a little trailer to watch, for those who wish to do so:

Tuesday, 19 March 2013

Robert Aickman Word Clouds

So, I've been participating in a fabulous group read of The Wine Dark Sea by Robert Aickman - no need to explain to regular readers how much I admire Aickman's stories, I'm sure I've banged on about him often enough...

Anyway, I wanted to do a post about some of the stories in the book, and I've decided to do something a bit different. Because reading Aickman is so subjective I'd hesitate to offer my interpretation of one of his stories as definitive; so (with their permission) I've decided to use other people's words from the group read to create these 'word-clouds' for the title story and for The Trains. The phrases are just ones that struck me from the discussion, be they people's view on what the story meant, or other stories it reminded them of, or whatever. The idea was to get a more impersonal, multi-layered, ambiguous description of each story than if I'd just waffled on myself.

I think the results look quite good, and if there's a positive response I'll probably do a couple more.

The Wine Dark Sea

The Trains

Wednesday, 16 January 2013

Strange Story #20: House Of Leaves

Strange Story #20: House Of Leaves
Author: Mark Z. Danielewski

Make no mistake, those who write long books have nothing to say. Of course those who write short books have even less to say...


Most of the strange stories I've featured in this column to date have been short, controlled tales – paranoia and fear mounting to a single moment of horror. Whilst the best of these stories might imply a lot, they definitively state very little.

House Of Leaves is not that kind of story.

This is a huge novel (and one you must read in its physical version rather than as an ebook, as the photographs in this post will indicate) with multiple plots and sub-plots, typographical tricks, footnotes and diversions. It tells the story of ‘The Navidson Record’, a film by a renowned photographer about a very singular house.

The book takes the form of an academic treatment of the film, discussing its themes and veracity. This has apparently been written by Zampano, a blind man who dies in mysterious circumstances. His manuscript is recovered by a second character, Johnny Truant, who interprets the Zampano notes and The Navidson Record in his own way, as well as chronicling the breakdown he suffers whilst reading the material, despite the fact that he can find no evidence that the film even exists.



So the book is in effect one narrator annotating the notes of another narrator about a film neither can ever have seen (one doubting it is real, the other being blind) and that even if it does exist might just be a fake anyway. I think.

Added to this, the book is a labyrinth (and that word is chosen deliberately) of other stories, from Johnny’s tall-tales told to impress girls to historical accounts of people shipwrecked in the Arctic. The book also features seemingly never-ending lists (of architectural features, famous photographers, ghost stories etc.), mirror-writing, poems, and letters with a secret code. There are 'quotations' about the Navidson Record from people like Derrida, Camile Paglia, and Stephen King. There are a number of seemingly trivial mysteries that nevertheless prey on the mind: why is the word house (or any translation thereof) in a different colour & font to the rest of the text? Why is every reference to the Minotaur myth crossed through?

This book achieves ambiguity not through sparseness of detail but through a surfeit of it.

And there remains the fact that, despite the interruptions and longueurs, there is at the core of this book a truly frightening and original horror story. The Navidson Record starts with the Navidson family moving into a new house, and Navidson realising his house appears to be a fraction of an inch bigger on the inside than the outside: Lovecraft’s crazy geometry rewritten on a domestic scale. Soon after, a door appears in the house that wasn't there before, that appears to open onto a small, dusty corridor… which is clearly occupying the same physical space as the garden outside the house. Navidson, and later others, explore the corridor, and they soon realise the space behind the door is potentially huge (infinite?), and shifting and protean... and there might be something in that impossible space with them. The sheer impossibility of the house, initially represented by that small fraction of an inch, becomes something experienced on a far vaster scale. Added to this is the very human drama played out between Navidson and his wife Karen, who desperately wants her husband to stop exploring the house, and between Navidson and his estranged brother Tom. The book contains several moving moments of catharsis as well as it's brain-frying detail.


House Of Leaves seems to me a stunning achievement, a book that will become a true classic of the genre (despite the fact that no genre can really contain it). It meshes post-modernism with a strong knowledge of horror tropes, and comes up with something absolutely original. It contains enough intellectual stimulation to fuel a thousand post-graduate essays, but with enough twists and turns of the plot to turn it into an addictive page-turner too. Despite its size it’s compulsively readable, and re-readable – I've read it three times now and found new pleasures and confusions each time.

In fact, typing this, it occurs to me it's a love story, too.

Absolutely essential reading.

Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Penny Dreadnought Omnibus! Volume 1 Paperback

The Abominable Gentlemen are the worst people you don't know.

And the first Omnibus of their works is now available as a paperback (UK | US) as well as an ebook (UK | US).

Penny Dreadnought Omnibus! Volume 1 contains all sixteen stories from the first four volumes of Penny Dreadnought, as well as a bonus gallery of alternative cover art. That's four stories apiece from myself, Alan Ryker, Iain Rowan, and Aaron Polson.

It makes the perfect holiday gift for friends and family, especially strange 'Uncle Pete' who you only ever see at occasional family gatherings and who doesn't seem to be allowed near pets, children, or real cutlery.

Enjoy.

Saturday, 27 October 2012

Fiction & Unreality

Back when I was a student, a girl I knew moved in with her boyfriend.

A few months later she turned up at the door of my shared house one evening, shaking with tears and clutching herself.

"He hit me!" she said.

We ushered her inside, made her cups of tea, put on music we knew she liked. "It just doesn't feel real," she said. "I don't know what to do, I can't even think about it..."

Of course for us outside it seemed real enough, and we knew exactly what she should do: phone the bastard to tell him he was dumped; have some wine and stay the night on our couch, and then tomorrow we'd go round with her to help her collect her things and...

"It just doesn't seem real," she said as we suggested these things to her.

I think a lot of people have had this feeling - when something traumatic happens, it just doesn't seem real. The implications might be so vast, so life-changing that temporarily our brains just don't want to deal with them. This can be a helpful coping mechanism (particularly if it doesn't last long) but it can also leave us with a feeling of dislocation from reality, a shell-shocked inability to understand the world any more.

But conveying this feeling in fiction is tricky, because if the writer just simply and realistically depicts the events that might affect his or her characters in such a way, if doesn't follow that the reader will feel such a dislocation - they are outside events and whilst they might well find the story disturbing or depressing it will likely seem real enough to them. After all, traumatic events happen every day to other people.

And I wonder if that's where the appeal of 'strange stories' comes from - by depicting events that are literally unrealistic do they allow the writer to explore these very real feelings of unreality in a way that realistic fiction, for all its mimetic triumphs, can't?

Monday, 15 October 2012

I have finished The Weird...!

I don’t know if you've ever seen the Man Vs. Food TV program (if not, basically some idiot attempts to eat an 40oz steak or 3ft pizza or something…) but I've just finished reading The Weird, a vast (100+ stories, 750000 words) anthology of weird fiction put together by Jeff and Ann VanderMeer.

“The publishers believe this is the largest volume of weird fiction ever housed between the covers of one book” the blurb says, as if there’s any doubt…

The Weird cover image
Just the physical size of the book is somewhat imposing, especially when you see the double-columns of small type inside. I've been reading this on and off since January, and part of the reason it has taken so long is that its pretty much impossible to read this book (in its non-ebook version) on public transport or in bed. It’s just too heavy and unwieldy.

But unlike those huge steaks (I imagine) The Weird doesn't let quantity get in the way of quality. Given the sheer number of selections there’s no way people will love every one, but there’s not a story here that’s anything less that interesting to the horror fiction aficionado. I don’t think any anthology before this one has stories spanning such a range before, whether in time (the oldest story is from 1908; the newest 2010); geography (stories from twenty countries across the globe, some in translation for the first time); or genre (traditional horror rubs shoulders with science-fiction, literary fiction, fantasy and even humour).

Some of the stories I had read before – and it’s always a pleasure to read The Willows or The Hospice again. But many others were brand new to me; of those that I've not read before these were my favourites:
  • Hanns Heinz Ewers, “The Spider,”
  • H.F. Arnold, “The Night Wire,”
  • Clark Ashton Smith, “Genius Loci,”
  • Robert Barbour Johnson, “Far Below,”
  • William Sansom, “The Long Sheet,”
  • Robert Bloch, “The Hungry House,”
  • Jerome Bixby, “It’s a Good Life,”
  • Charles Beaumont, “The Howling Man,”
  • Mervyn Peake, “Same Time, Same Place,”
  • Gahan Wilson, “The Sea Was Wet As Wet Could Be,”
  • Dennis Etchison, “It Only Comes Out at Night,”
  • James Tiptree Jr. (Alice Sheldon), “The Psychologist Who Wouldn’t Do Awful Things to Rats,”
  • George R.R. Martin, “Sandkings,”
  • William Gibson/John Shirley, “The Belonging Kind,”
  • Joanna Russ, “The Little Dirty Girl,”
  • F. Paul Wilson, “Soft,”
  • Garry Kilworth, “Hogfoot Right and Bird-hands,”
  • Lucius Shepard, “Shades,”
  • Joyce Carol Oates, “Family,”
  • Karen Joy Fowler, “The Dark,”
  • Lisa Tuttle, “Replacements,”
  • William Browning Spenser, “The Ocean and All Its Devices,”
  • Craig Padawer, “The Meat Garden,”
  • China Mieville, “Details,”
  • Brian Evenson, “The Brotherhood of Mutilation,”
  • Margo Lanagan, “Singing My Sister Down,”
  • Steve Duffy, “In the Lion’s Den,”
  • K.J. Bishop, “Saving the Gleeful Horse,”
But that’s not to belittle the quality of the others.

In my opinion The Weird sets a new standard for an anthology of ‘weird fiction’ – as well as the stories themselves, the Introductions and Afterwords are thought-provoking, and as if the book itself wasn't enough there’s a whole website called The Weird Fiction review with articles, interviews and fiction by many of the authors.

In short, if you’re a horror fiction fan with a taste for the weirder, more articulate or surreal side of the genre, this is pretty much a must-read.