The third story in Peter Bell's Hauntings strikes a remarkable contrast to its predecessors. A book dealer exploring the former East Germany for rare finds instead discovers a deeply personal horror. An earlier version of this story appeared in Delicate Toxins from Side Real Press, and as you might expect if you know that publisher, it is tinged with decadence. Here we find absinthe, seduction, hallucinatory moments, and many an obscure volume emphatically not for sale.
But this is also a tale of personal tragedy, the way one incident can hollow out a person's life, leaving them a kind of human-shaped shell going through the motions of existence. The protagonist, a widower called Julian, first ventured into East Germany not long after the Wall came down. His small daughter vanished, inexplicably, in one of those trivial moments of inattention all parents know. Cue the intrusive and unhelpful media interest and the horrifying realisation that the child could not be found.
Years later, Julian returns to Saxony for an auction that proves disappointing, then gets lost and low on petrol. He finds refuge at what appears to be a kind of time-warped brothel with an aged madame, a remarkable library, and some even more remarkable girls who watch Julian 'like cats about to pounce'. One, in particular, reminds him of his lost daughter. The original horror of loss is multiplied by a dark denouement.
The writing in this one surprised me. While still recognisably Bell's, it is far more intense, with poetic passages. 'Monstrous clouds were reaching to the apex of the sky, a bloody canyon rending the tumultuous heavens; crimson, scarlet, vermilion (...) The gloom became intense. But it was not the outside he dreaded, but the darkness within himself.'
An excellent tale, which nods to Lovecraft, Ewers, and perhaps Jean Lorrain as much as Dr. James and his disciples. I wonder what haunted domain I will be exploring next? Stay tuned for more of this running review.
No comments:
Post a Comment