NOCTURNAL MIRRORS by Richard Gavin (Swan River Press 2026)
Canadian author Richard Gavin was an early contributor to ST, but I lost his spoor down the years. Now he is back on my radar with a collection of thirteen tales. To get the easy part out of the way first, these are not conventional ghost stories, or indeed horror stories in the strict sense. Some do fit the Gothic mould well, while at the same time incorporating surreal elements. They are sui generis, assuming that I'm using that term correctly.
The first story in a collection is usually considered the strongest by the author and/or their editor. 'Banquets of Embertide' is impressive, with its depiction of strange rituals in a small Canadian town. White Birch is, unusually, 'not a tightknit community', but is nonetheless held together by an annual ritual-cum-celebration at the town hall. What happens is hard to sum up in a few words, but grotesquerie pretty much covers it. This is a confident start.
'Flagstone Clothes' concerns a group of Hidden Mothers who nurture wooden dolls in a remote house in the woods. Derwyn hears them tell their stories as apprentice to the Image-Maker, who takes photographs of the women. Things go wrong for Derwyn and, eventually, for many more people in a plot that hangs together well, given its dreamlike aspects.
'Molly on the Stairhead' sees a group of youngsters in a patch of greenery that is theoretically forbidden. Molly is a victim, ill-dressed and lacking confidence. She is mocked by the 'cooler' kids and meets a very strange fate. Molly is transfigured and becomes one of many urban legends, linked to Bloody Mary. The narrator, Molly's friend, who did not do much to protect her, becomes part of the game, which is a world in itself.
'The Intercessor' begins with the emergence of a strange being from a boathouse. Who or what this entity might be is not clear, but its effect on the protagonist is profound. Here the surreal element meshes quite well with the horror movie theme of the 'home alone' character attempting to survive. By contrast, 'Crinoline Eyrie' starts conventionally, with a couple on vacation deciding to strike out for an obscure cove rather than the recommended tourist area. It ends with a truly bizarre confrontation that is slightly reminiscent of Aickman at his oddest.
'Prowling Through Throated Chambers' is a good example of a familiar idea reimagined. Presented as a journal in a dog-eared notebook, it tells of a journey to an obscure theme park attraction. It is one of the best examples of that sub-genre I can recall. I particularly liked the emphasis on a 'house of horrors' in which the protagonist has to put on various garments, a mask, etc. There is also a very nice twist that grounds the story in very real suffering.
'Honeymoon in Burning Bedlam' begins thus:
'The amber glass of my prison window is haemorrhaging again.'
Many stories here read like prose poems, and this one most of all. However, Gavin always offers at least a glimpse of the mundane to anchor his fantasy. In this case it's the sad, familiar tale of a small boy sending away his hard-earned cash for a toy house of horror, only to receive a shoddy cardboard disappointment. This one also warns against the consumption of other people's snuff, serving a utilitarian purpose as well as offering aesthetic pleasure.
Another familiar story armature drives 'Stray Gates'. Here, the protagonist is a single father whose wife died in childbirth and is now looking after a young son. The eponymous gates appear and loom ever more menacingly in his life. A grotesque transformation afflicts the little boy, and the father must undergo an ordeal that leads him and the reader through a maze, or morass, of ur-Freudian symbolism. Truly a horror story, and far more effective than more conventional treatments of similar topics.
'A Place of Courtship' is a compelling ghost story told from two perspectives. Yes, one of them is in fact the ghost. There is perhaps a nod to M.R. James here but both style and content are light years away from the work of the Provost of King's. The ghost is encountered in a locked room where am unquiet corpse (sort of) spends a lot of time in bed. I get the feeling that, as this tale is original to the collection, the author felt he had more freedom to navigate.
The same can be said for 'Lady Esme's Chandler', which takes us to a vaguely Ruritanian nation in the throes of a witch hunt. A probably-British upper-class twit is compelled to intervene in an execution process that I won't describe here. Magic takes centre stage, and it is far more convincing than the systematic D&D-style stuff that's all too common nowadays.
'Upon an Iron Bed, Under the Eyes of Chaos' is a lot easier to read than the title may suggest. It's also based on a very neat idea, which I will not spoil here. Suffice to say that a writer sets out to expose a 'fake medium' only to find that things are a lot more complex than she'd assumed. A quest to a mysterious island is always a good ingredient and is well-used here, and there is a wonderful visionary moment at the climax.
The transformative power of ideas is at the heart of 'Four Stages of Alchemy', perhaps the most Decadent of the stories collected here. Two mismatched Canadians embark on a quest that leads them to a mysterious Spore within which the eponymous stages are progressing. An alchemist is being reborn, centuries after mastering the strange science. This is a sound combination of horror plotting and esoteric speculation.
The final story, 'Tabula Rasa', is set in that deeply Gothic region of the Old World that might be termed Gavinia. A ruthless baronial family enforce their authority on the peasantry by familiar, brutal means. The daughter of the house is indoctrinated into the ideology of rule by terror. But then she discovers that an offshoot of the dynasty may have taken another path. At the core of the story is an ur-experiment in nature v. nurture. It ends with a life and a world transformed.
In his afterword, Gavin discusses the origins of his peculiar vision. He stresses his preference for horror that does not stray too far from 'its metaphysical roots'. In that sense, these stories can be seen as items in a manifesto, an argument for the exploration of what he calls the Shadowland. With this collection, Gavin has demonstrated his versatility, intellect, and panache as a storyteller. Stylistically powerful and thematically strong, every story glitters like a cursed jewel in some mad tyrant's hoard.
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