Supernatural Tales

I'm not sure about reviewing something that has me in it, but let me say that the first issues of The Green Book is rather spiffing all round. The brief of TGB is 'Writings on Irish Gothic, Supernatural and Fantastic Literature', which is quite a broad brief. In his Editor's Note, Brian J. Showers gives his eminently good reasons for focusing on Irish weird fiction, and makes clear that his approach will be very inclusive. And that is certainly the case with the contents of the first issue. Part One of Albert Power's extended essay 'Towards and Irish Gothic' begins the first issue in fine style. I admit that my knowledge of some of the texts mentioned is pretty much non-existent. That didn't stop me enjoying Power's erudite and poetic exploration of stories that range from, in his words, 'Celtic Crochets to Castles of Dread'. As an introduction to the subject that impresses with the depth and range of Irish literature, this would be hard...

Supernatural Tales #24 will be out in August, which isn't that far off, really. It's nearly June! The contents, barring any mishaps, will be as follows (though not necessarily in this order): Sean Logan - 'Dollhouse by the Sea' Lynda  E. Rucker - 'The Wife's Lament' Steve Goldsmith - 'The Boys With the Ball' John Llewellyn Probert - 'A Life on the Stage' Michael Abolafia - 'Omnia Exeunt in Mysterium' Sam Dawson - 'Man Under' Jane Jakeman - 'Majorlena' Key words for the above stories are - hotel, Birmingham, drunk, ballet, mother, trains, flies. Well, that's how I remember them.

This collection of tales spans the years 1983 to 2009, and offers an interesting selection of Mark Valentine's work. Most of them concern the investigations of Ralph Tyler, an 'occult sleuth' of a slightly unusual sort. Unlike Hodgson's Carnacki, Blackwood's John Silence, or Le Fanu's Dr Hesselius, Tyler is a regular bloke with no powerful connections or unusual resources. He resides at 14 Bellchamber Tower, but this is not so elegant a residence at the name suggests. His methods are simply those of the researcher, coupled with a bit of initiative and a tendency to try and do the right thing - sometimes in defiance of his client's wishes. There is an obvious problem with the psychic sleuth format. Each story contains the germ of its own failure by telling the reader that the hero will not die, or be otherwise rendered hors de combat. While this is fine in a TV series of the X-Files variety (and there are a lot of them around), on the printed page it does s...

Apparently it's World Goth Day, so let's hear it for the Germanic tribes that disrupted the later Roman Empire, and even sacked the Eternal City itself... Only kidding. It's the day to celebrate courageous make-up strategies, colour-free sartorial tastes, and a general sub-culture that is - in my experience - charming, intelligent, and fun. Go Goths! In noodling about this topic this morning I found a highly instructional video for any young person of today who is wondering if they should go full Goth. It's true, you know - you always see Goths in couples.

Richard Marsh was, in his day, one of the best-known authors in Britain. His proto-horror novel The Beetle (1897) rivalled Dracula. As someone remarked, friends are better than critics, and now there's an exhibition dedicated to Marsh's life and work. Here is the link , where you will find the facts: The Beetle , published in 1897, is the tale of a shape-changing Egyptian creature that comes to London seeking revenge on a leading MP, which greatly outsold its close rival Dracula (published the same year). In 1910 Marsh's publishers felt able to call him 'the most popular living author'.  A lesson there, I think, for any writer who worries that they've failed to win recognition. It is, to say the least, ephemeral in most cases. The author  Robert Aickman was the grandson of Richard Marsh. He was the only child of a rather odd and unhappy union between Marsh's daughter Mabel and the much older William Aickman.

I am not well. Some sort of virus laid me low on Sunday night, and I crawled off to bed with much sweating and shivering. Then, this morning, came the attack of the squitters that led me to conclude I am ill and not merely feeling a bit under the weather. Oh well. A bit of cinema is always good for me when I'm feeling low, so I decided to watch, for a second time, Kurosawa's portmanteau magical realist portmanteau movie. Akira Kurosawa's Dreams is a Japanese-American co-production - 'Stephen Spielberg Presents' are the first three words to appear on the screen, and Martin Scorsese cameos as Van Gogh. The film comprises eight stories, all based on the director's dreams at different stages of his life. The first story, 'Sunshine Through the Rain', is about a little boy who ignores his mother's advice and goes into the woods on a day when the sun is shining, but it is also raining. In this weather, he is warned, foxes hold their weddings - and they ...

Sorry I haven't blogged lately - not a lot going on that is relevant to ST. But 'certain things' have arisen, and I'll blog about them next week, honest. In the meantime, M.R. James fans might enjoy this little film.