by Shock Totem
The second installment, Symbiont, is due to be released in November 2014.
–Christian Marcus
Sugar Skull, by Charles Burns; Pantheon, 2014; 64 pgs.
The concluding volume in a haunting graphic novel trilogy, Sugar Skull concludes the hallucinatory, heartbreaking, hilarious, and mysterious odyssey begun in X’ed Out and continued in The Hive.
Like all of Charles Burns’ works, including the acclaimed graphic novel Black Hole, the Xe’d Out trilogy features the same starkly-penned, startlingly-detailed drawings, but with one major difference: it’s all rendered in full color, adding a whole other dimension of dark beauty.
I could get more into some of the specifics of Sugar Skull, but the thing is, the X’ed Out trilogy doesn’t unfold in a traditional linear narrative. With each volume, Mr. Burns presents bits and pieces of a mosaic of five different storylines, and it’s up to the reader to figure out how they all add up.
Over the course of those different storylines, we get to know Doug, a lonely nebbish who’s just trying to get a good break in life. In one of the storylines, Doug is in his teens, living with his overbearing father and occasionally performing spoken-word songs from behind a mask at punk rock shows; at one point, he befriends and starts to date a moody and mysterious girl named Sarah. In another timeline, there are scenes of Doug and Sarah living together, while still learning more about each other—often through Sarah’s photographs of darkly erotic self-portraits. Then there’s Doug’s life after Sarah, where he wastes his days in his father’s house, recovering from a (mostly) unexplained accident. Later still, we see Doug, now seeing someone else, trying to come to terms with all his problems. Finally, there’s Doug, several years later, having recovered from an addiction and trying to move on with his life with his ultimate lover, Sally.
Woven throughout Doug’s story, there are glimpses of the strange saga of “Nit Nit,” a character that’s at once a surreal caricature of Doug and a bizarro parody of the famous comic character Tintin, created by Belgian artist Hergé. The darkly humorous adventures of Nit Nit take place in a strange dystopian world full of odd creatures, including a foul-mouthed, porcine-featured midget of a man wearing a diaper, who in showing Nit Nit around, becomes almost like a friend. Nit Nit where he is put to work by (and alongside) lizard-like creatures in office suits, slaving away at “the Hive,” where...well, let’s just say that’s where it starts to get really weird. Is this all a dream, drug-induced or otherwise, of Doug’s? Maybe. Is it a surreal summary of different passages of Doug’s life? Maybe. Is it an alternate reality from Doug’s altogether? Maybe. Does it really matter what this storyline means? Probably not.
Ultimately, I spent a lot of time reading these books with my brow furrowed, because honestly, the fractured narrative was more than a little puzzling. I even re-read the previous volumes before each new one came out, just to make sure everything was as fresh as possible, but that didn’t always help. I suppose, if one was to cut out all the pieces of the comic and arrange them into a somewhat linear storyline, one might be able to discern the big, weird picture—but what would be the fun of that? Although the X’ed Out trilogy thumbs its nose at the reader with one hand, its other is pointing the reader to travel even deeper down the rabbit-hole of its strange story. Like all of his previous books, this is a tale that only Charles Burns could tell.
Madre, Protégenos, by Íon; Equilibrium, 2006; 8 tracks; 51 min.
I love to write. I also love to rock. It is impossible to do both at the same time. Air drumming isn’t conducive to writing. As such, while writing, I like to play more ambient, mellow music, like Dead Can Dance, Dark Sanctuary, Nox Arcana, Adrian von Ziegler. Íon, a project from ex-Anathema/Antimatter bassist Duncan Patterson, is another (as is Antimatter). I discovered their album Madre, Protégenos years ago when it was sent to me for review. In the seven years since its release, it has not left my “writing soundtrack” playlist. And for good reason: it’s outstanding.
Patterson penned all but one track on Madre, Protégenos, but the performances on the album showcase a myriad of well-known talents: Marcelo Bovio (Stream of Passion), Mark Kelson (The Eternal), Vangelis Yalamas (Fragile Vastness), Valentina Buroni (Beholder), and a host of other, lesser known vocalists and musicians from many corners of the world (Russia, Greece, Italy, Ireland, Australia, Mexico, and Argentina).
Madre, Protégenos begins with the title track. Immediately fans of Dead Can Dance will be drawn into any number of past worlds created by Lisa Gerrard and Brendan Perry. It’s a dark, eerie canvas painted with acoustic guitar and flute and piano, layered with orchestration and haunting vocals. This is played out to varying degrees throughout the entire album, although with tracks like “O Efeito Do Verão” incorporating more orchestra and “Learpholl” playing like a melancholic Irish folk song. Percussion dominates much of “Anathema Maranatha” and “Ultreia” (fans of Wardruna take note). The slightly orchestral, mostly a cappella “Goodbye Johnny Dear” deserves special mention in that it’s a traditional Irish emigrant classic, one that was written in the 1800s by Duncan’s great-grandfather, Johnny Patterson.
Hardened fans of Duncan Patterson’s metal past will likely find little here in which to indulge. However, those who enjoy bands/musicians like Dead Can Dance, In the Nursery, and Sarah Mclachlan’s early, darker material will find a lot of depth in which to immerse themselves. Madre, Protégenos is an album you listen to with the lights out, candles afire, or while reading, writing, contemplating. It’s an album for journeys, one which facilitates the opening of doors.
Íon’s second album, Immaculada, is a fine companion.
–Hoked Newton
Darkness Ad Infinitum: Villipede Horror Anthology I, by Various; Villipede Publications, 2014; 336 pgs.
I have been a lifelong aficionado of anthologies. I love reading a story or two before turning in for the night or during my lunch break. As such, I was anxious to read Darkness Ad Infinitum upon its release. The cover is gorgeous and I had heard good things about Villipede. So when I received a copy, I hoped for a jaw-dropping array of dark and scary fiction. I got that. Almost.
The collection opens with “Longboat,” by Becky Regalado, and while it is very well written, it is one of the Mobius strip kind of tales. You know the ones, where the end is the same as the beginning and you find that the story plays on an infinite loop. Those annoy me. I would have easily forgiven this, were it not for the fact that there are a few other “loopy” tales in this collection. Still, I did enjoy her story. The imagery is superb.
I’ll just touch on the ones that really won me over. Adam Millard’s “In the Walls” is a tale of Lovecraftian terrors lurking behind the sheetrock, and it’s a good one. Being a longtime fan of Golem tales, I dug “Earth Risen,” by Pete Clark. “The Westhoff Version,” by Patrick O’Neill, reminded me of a nastier Roald Dahl, full of subtle menace and shadowy ick. John McCaffrey’s “Brannigan’s Window” was wonderful, a very strong tale of renovation and eviction.
Jonathan Moon’s “Hungry As the Wind” is a blast of a tale about bounty hunters and their ill-fated venture into haunted woods. David Dunwoody turns in one of the weirdest tales, “The Good Man,” which opens on the aftermath of a robbery and takes sharp turns into nightmare territory with vampiric beings and redemption dancing cheek to cheek. “The Undertaker’s Melancholy” is a sprawling, crawling prose piece by Sydney Leigh. The words are gorgeous and bite with tiny teeth.
Most of these stories were well written, I just found that many had a “been there many times” feel. I had hoped for a collection of darkly strange and unsettlingly surreal tales, and while there are some of those in here, I wished for more. That being said, it is a gorgeous thing to behold, visually stunning. Each story is accompanied with an illustration, the cover art by Wednesday Wolf is amazing, and the overall layout and execution is just as beautiful. There is a lot of wonderful work in here, and just because it failed to register on the WOW-o-meter, it doesn’t mean
it won’t with you.
The City, by Dean Koontz; Bantam, 2014; 418 pgs.
“My name is Jonah Ellington Basie Hines Eldridge Wilson Hampton Armstrong Kirk. From as young as I can remember, I loved the city. Mine is a story of love reciprocated. It is the story of loss and hope, and of the strangeness that lies just beneath the surface tension of daily life, a strangeness infinite fathoms in depth.”
Thus begins The City. Jonah Kirk is a musical child prodigy growing up in the sixties, and here he tells about “the dark times” of his life. Estranged from his father, he is nonetheless surrounded by love in the form of his mother and grandparents. Over the course of the narrative he also builds strong relationships with Malcolm Pomerantz and his sister, Amalia; Mr. George Yoshioka, who lives in an apartment on the floor above Jonah and his mother; and of course Miss Pearl, who claims to be the personification of the city itself. He also is threatened by dangerous people after having apparently prophetic dreams. As Jonah’s story progresses, he works to figure out what these people are up to, and what he can do to stop them while protecting those he cares about.
As a long-time fan of Dean Koontz, I looked forward to reading this latest release. His prose is beautiful and evocative, and some of the characters come right off the page. I was particularly taken with Mr. Yoshioka, a man with his own painful past and secrets to keep, yet who is unfailingly kind and patient. There are parts of the book where I was totally caught up, which is something I expect from a Koontz novel. However, unlike most books from this talented author, I had a really difficult time getting into the story. The beginning is almost painfully slow, and there are sections throughout that lagged. I would also add that the supernatural element that I have come to expect was almost nonexistent here.
The end is a true end, tying up the various threads of the story, and it did evoke an emotional response from me. But this is the only Koontz book I’ve ever read where I had to make myself keep reading, and that’s a disappointment. There are some readers who I’m certain will absolutely love The City, but it didn’t quite meet my high expectations.
–Rose Blackthorn
Mr. Mercedes, by Stephen King; Scribner, 2014; 448 pgs.
Stephen King is definitely the Alfred Hitchcock of the literary world. It’s likely he could take an inner city phone book and turn it into a riveting novel. Mr. Mercedes isn’t a phone book, but it sure as hell ranks up there with some of Hitchcock’s greatest hits. In fact, one might say that Mr. Mercedes is King’s Psycho.
King rocks the suspense/thriller genres here. Taking a step away from the deeply supernatural fare he’s known for, he proves that he is, without doubt, one of the world’s top writers. That he continues to come up with fresh material and interesting stories is further testament to his prowess. But he doesn’t leave the horror out, either. In fact, there’s one scene that will be impossible to get out of my head, probably for the rest of my life.
Mr. Mercedes tells the story of retired cop, Bill Hodges, who has taken to heavy drinking and flirting with suicide night after night since he left the force. Before he left, there was one particular unsolved case that haunted him, and continues to do so months and years later. An unknown subject stole a Mercedes and rammed it into a crowd of hundreds of local unemployed people, killing eight and injuring many others. The perpetrator was never caught, and that is what bothers Hodges the most. When the killer reaches out and taunts Hodges in the hopes of pushing the overweight cop past the mental tipping point, it instead revives Hodges’ passion, and renews his intent to take Mr. Mercedes down, even if it’s the last thing he ever does.
Hodges sets out to bring a killer to justice, and in the process manages to fall in love and care about not only himself, but others as well. Especially his estranged daughter, whose absence from his life is one of his greatest failures. Now, though, he seeks redemption, and believes he can only find it by catching the murderer. Along the way, Hodges gathers an odd, ragtag team of crime solvers: a school-aged neighborhood kid who happens to be somewhat of a genius, and a bipolar woman who turns out to be an incredible asset, despite her mental challenges. This latter character might remind you of Chloe from 24. In another comparison, this team is very much like characters from The Drawing of the Three, volume two in King’s epic Dark Tower series. In young Jerome we find shades of Odetta, and in bipolar Holly we find pieces of Eddie Dean, the young heroin addict.
The antagonist, on the other hand, is one of the creepier King has ever put on paper. One might compare him to Pennywise the Clown, only without the makeup and killer smile. However, Pennywise’s evil intent is alive and thriving here. There’s even a vague reference in this book, as well as nods to several other King books.
Without giving anything away, it’s worth your while to take your time with this book, in spite of the overwhelming urge you’ll likely experience to zip through to the stunning conclusion as quickly as possible. King handles tension and horror as masterfully as ever and his character development is in tremendous form. We find ourselves rooting for the underdog protagonists, despite the many mistakes both sides make that puts everyone’s lives in peril.
Mr. Mercedes is available in hardcover through Scribner and is the first in a trilogy centered on the murders that take place in this first episode. Finders Keepers, the second volume, is slated to be released in early 2015.
–Christian Marcus
HEY MAN
by Tim Lieder
Hey, man. You got a light? Say, miss. Can I drive you home? Can I have a ride? I'm in the mood. Hey buddy, you got tall. Or I'm on the ground. I'm in the mood. A couple days like this and I'll be fine. I know my limits. I got the mood.
Oh no, don't say that, baby. You're beautiful. I'm not going anywhere. Of course, I'm going to stay with you tonight.
Apollo is better than Legba. Legba is better than gin. Gin is better than Jesus and we all sin. Close the gates. Find the Queen of May. She's coming for you and I said yes. Officer, I was driving a little fast. Please don't look in my trunk. I'm in a bad mood. Bad bad mood.
In the flowers, I'm dancing. In the winter, I'm crying. You're my bride and I'm your fool. The Black Death is killing babes in their cribs and brides on their wedding day. And I say good, baby. Good. I've been to the parties. They hung vampires from the stairwells. I know you're sick and I'm going to take care of your bubonic plague. It's bad. I'm in the mood. A few pretty buildings will stay open, but the city will close. You and I will just lay in our apartment with no one to carry us; none to bury us.
I see you dying. You feel me sweat. We kill rats, but the flies remain. Our prayers weren't answered. Yeah, baby. I know you're not speaking, but I wanted to say that you're beautiful even with your lips pulled back and your eyes... I want to comfort you, but you ain't here. Just your body but I will stay with you. I can't move.
Hey, buddy, get out. You shouldn't wear a mask that way. I don't have it. I'm alive. I'm just yellow and skinny. That's not a crime. Don't throw me on the truck with the others.
Say, miss, can you roll off me. I can't roll myself and I hear you breathing. Why you pretending? Don't you know they gonna burn us. I know I'm dead but you breathing. You breathing and that's a good thing. Don't you roll? Come on, that's air. It's not just gas.
Hey, man, that fire is pretty hot. Hey, man, I see you think I'm just toxic waste. Hey, man, before you throw me in, know this not so solid flesh. Turn the flames up higher. I don't want to burn slowly. Stop laughing. I'm in the mood.
Tim Lieder has been published in various publications including Big Pulp, Lamplight, and Shock Totem. Additionally, he owns and operates Dybbuk Press, through which he has edited and published nine titles including King David and the Spiders from Mars, a multi-author Bible-themed horror anthology featuring Megan Arkenberg, Sonya Taaffe, and Lyda Morehouse, among others. He lives in Manhattan and most of his money comes from writing term papers for lazy college students. He is reasonably priced.
THE NIGHTMARE ROLLS ON
A Conversation with Stephen Graham Jones
by Zachary C. Parker
A number of years ago, a younger version of myself with no industry ties picked up an issue of Cemetery Dance at a now non-existent Borders. Up until that point, all the stories I read came from books, and as the only avid reader and writer in my family and small circle of friends I’d had no one to expose me to such publications. In a lot of ways, that issue pushed me from writing stories for myself to writing stories for others. It was as if, by plucking it from the shelf, a curtain was lifted to reveal all the inner workings of the writer life. The issue has long since fallen to pieces, but its influence remains. Within the pages was a story titled “Father, Son, Holy Rabbit,” by Stephen Graham Jones, which centers on a father and son lost in the woods and surviving on the flesh of a mysterious rabbit. Hands down, it was my favorite in the issue, and to this day it holds a special place in my violent, horror-loving heart.
In recent years, Stephen Graham Jones has become a household name among horror readers. Prolific and varied to the extreme, few other writers have covered as much ground in such a short span of time. He has published fifteen novels and fives collections along with hundreds of short stories and has been a finalist for the Shirley Jackson Award, the Bram Stoker Award, and the Black Quill Award among others. From novels centered on drive-thru urinals to tales reminiscent of 80’s slasher flicks, Jones has something for everyone, and that something is delivered with a style like a battered Ford pickup running on nightmare fuel. I recently had an opportunity to speak with Jones about all things horror.
