Contents:
|
Veuf |
Cliff McNish |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Bright as a Button |
Katherine Haynes |
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Women in the Woods |
Sam Dawson |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chico Rivera’s Guitar |
Tim Jeffreys |
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Miniaturist |
Steve Rasnic Tem |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hagstone
|
Reggie
Chamberlain-King |
|
I received a review copy of The Water Bells from the author.
This new collection contains one tale from ST 59, 'Fire and Stick', which I'm sure readers will agree is a first-rate tale of the strange and disturbing. In total TWB offers fifteen stories, and all are of the same high calibre. The illustrations, as astute folk might have noticed, are by Odilon Redon, and are well suited to the tales. Charles Wilkinson's world is an odd one, a liminal but very British domain. It lies, I think, somewhere between Aickman and de la Mare with a strong dash of M.R. James.
A recurring them here is the solitary or somewhat awkward individual - usually male - who finds himself a fish out of water. Thus Theo Dodds who, having 'done nothing with his life for three years', is sent to care for a dying relative in 'Absent Below the Lip'. The title more than hints at horrors to come as Theo discovers - far too late - just what his uncle was and did.
Another poetry pamphlet from the laureate of the fens, Pete Cox. This one contains a handful of works on a mysterious medieval outfit founded by one Hugh Bardolph. The guild 'oversaw the construction and consecration (in 1235) of the so-called Dean's Eye' - a rose window in Lincoln Cathedral. Among other things...
The first poem deals with the imps of Lincoln and their role in the earthquake of 1185. Apparently 'their interference had been deduced/By mages skilled in ancient scrying art'. Which was a good thing, as 'holy magics' could be 'unloosed' on the little blighters. The imps turned to gargoyles. Serves 'em right.
'Hugh Bardolph and the Dragon' is a nice anecdote about the eponymous chap in his youth, arriving at court with what he claimed was the head of a dragon. Dinosaur fossil? Perhaps. As the poem reveals, Henry II and his advisors were not mugs. Hugh admits it's a fair cop...
'I found the skull among the rocks and sand
And then brought it here to the royal court
I meant to entertain with my tale and
Did not expect to be so quickly caught.'
Hugh would do well on Facebook, TikTok, or YouTube, the happy hunting grounds of every clickbait-hungry grifter pushing crackpot theories.
'Tommy Lindrum and the Devil' is a tall tale featuring a cat being let out of a bag - literally. It's all about a confrontation between Old Nick and a wizard who offers up his soul in return for a causeway. The Devil is happy to oblige with some major engineering works. To be fair, he does have help.
'So some small imps mixed cobbles far away
Some tiny imps surveyed the sodden fen
Two imps argued over hourly pay
But each imp did the work of twenty men'
Getting payment for all this proves problematic for DevilCorp. Tommy Lindrum, who I imagine as a kind of working-class Gandalf, wins the game and 'just laughed at the evil one'. I'd never heard of this particular Tommy, but he was clearly the man for sigils and tomes.
There are also some shorter poems, among which is 'Uproar in the Woods', which I particularly like. It tells of Herla and the Wild Hunt, riding 'upon horses and black he-goats'. There are copious notes to this one, and it seems the spectral hunters were very busy in East Anglia. But it was near Hereford that they met their match in 1155 in the form of a Welshman who 'accosted them' and forced them into the River Wye, where they promptly vanished. One Welshman took down King Herla and his boys? I suspect nationalist propaganda.
The final poem concerns 'deep places - by the hollow lands' where sacrifices were made to a Snake Idol. The Guild frees the boggarts, victims of evil sorcery. Apparently in 1996 West Deeping saw the discovery of leaden tablets bearing the names of Gnostic Archons. This is all way above my pay grade but I find it all convincing. Suffice to say, these are poems garlanded with esoteric knowledge.
Literary criticism is not everyone's cup of green tea, but this book is essential for anyone who loves the works of Sheridan Le Fanu. The bulk of the text consists of three introductions Jim Rockhill wrote for 1990s Ash-Three collections, now long out of print. Rockhill has updated what are very substantial essays, and added some extra matter pertaining to the author and his life.
And what a life it was. The first essay, 'As On a Darkling Plain' covers the period 1814- 1861. On the face of it this seems a little odd, as Le Fanu died in 1873. But, as I read on, I came to realise that before the 1860s the author had occupied himself with a wide range of activities, of which writing was just one. Politics, the law, and family life all demanded his time and effort. He married, fathered four children, then in 1858 suffered the terrible blow of his wife's death. It was only then that Le Fanu took to writing full-time to pay off debts and provide for his offspring.
Overall, the first essay is a good biographical piece and sets Le Fanu firmly in the context of a troubled society. The descendant of Protestant immigrants, Le Fanu was part of a privileged elite but also felt his position to be precarious. He flirted with nationalism and wrote sympathetically of the native Irish. But after the turbulence of the 1840s he retreated from the 'Young Ireland' movement that had attempted a full-on uprising.
I received the review copy pictured below from the publisher. I am, as always, impressed by the quality of the volume. Tartarus never lets you down - their books are built to last. The cover is simply entitled 'An Old House', a painting by Edith Abbott. I like it.
I had never heard of B(rian) Catling when I received a review copy of this book, which comes with three intriguing postcards 'featuring photographs by Iain Sinclair and text by Alan Moore'. I was a little puzzled. So I did some Googling and YouTubing and discovered that Catling was a very significant figure in the UK arts scene. I feel slightly ashamed that his work passed me by, but I have tried to dispel some of my ignorance. This book certainly offers a good overview of some of the man's ideas and personal vision.
Here, you will not find many conventional tales of the supernatural, but that's no bad thing. The last story, 'A Pendon Parva Ghost', is however a good example of an exploration of the genre from an unusual perspective. A pretentious professor escorts a party of guests to a museum containing a huge diorama of the Vale of the White Horse. There our academic shows off a bit, but is then chastened by an encounter with a woman who asks him to consider the concept of hauntings from a new angle. The story also contains a justifiable sideswipe at ghost hunter Harry Price.
Catling is certainly not conventional in his approach to the supernatural. The story above begins with the infamous anecdote of William Buckland eating the mummified heart of Louis XIV. I don't know why this is included, but it fits somehow. And I daresay that is where the artistry lies. The same can be said for 'Further Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar', which begins with an account of Valdemar's fascination with Japanese culture. The story is a (sort of) sequel to Poe's original tale in which the unnamed mesmerist finds himself stigmatized for his antics and seeks refuge in an unlikely place. It is a compelling piece.
'X Certify' is a fascinating meditation on horror, with ideas circling a central event in Catling's life. In 1959 he went to see Hammer's The Revenge of Frankenstein and then visited an uncle who had just undergone brain surgery. Not surprisingly, this double encounter left a lasting impression. Catling's erudition takes him effortlessly between 'high' and popular culture, referencing Goya and Jack Pierce, the make-up artist on James Whale's first Frankenstein movie.
Indeed, one of the pleasures of this book is its unapologetic interest in serious ideas, coupled with a more playful interest in Fortean/paranormal phenomena. 'Vanished!' is a series of monologues from the Manx family who encountered Gef the legendary talking mongoose. 'April 6th 1744' recounts the mystic and inventor Swedenborg's first encounter with an angelic being while he earing at a London Tavern. The short play 'Ugler i Mosen' concerns a bog body and its debatable origins. It formed the nucleus of the 2005 film The Cutting (which I watched on YouTube and found deeply moving).
A good read? For me, yes. Even the shortest items here have something to offer. Every inclusion is thought-provoking in the true sense of the term; not merely contentious for the sake of it, but seeking to share and explore hidden or neglected aspects of our world. After this, Catling may well haunt me.
