The Gormenghast Cycle (Mervyn Peake, 1946-1959)

List: Jones/Newman

Gormenghast is a massive, decaying gothic estate and castle inhabited by an odd and motley group of individuals led by the 76th Earl of Gormenghast Lord Sepulchrave and his wife Countess Gertrude. They have a young son, destined to be the 77th Earl of Gormenghast, Titus Groan who in the first book, Titus Groan, is but a babe but by the third book, Titus Alone, has grown into a young man, and an older daughter Fuschia, who eventually grows a deep familiar bond with Titus. Other individuals who live and/or work at Gormenghast include Titus and Fuschia’s fidgety and woeful nanny, Nannie Slagg, the tittery, eccentric medical doctor Prunesquallor and his vain but spindly and shrill sister Irma, the faithful and dilligent servant Mr. Flay, the foul head chef Swelter and several other unique and lively characters. The chief antagonist of the first two novels is a young man named Steerpike whose sinister machinations and brazen ambition will carve a path of death and destruction through the castle’s ancient corridors. The first book Titus Groan introduces us to the family and the birth of Titus while also introducing Steerpike as he slowly worms his way into the confidences of the staff and household, culminating in using the Earl’s deranged and bizarre twin sisters as pawns to set a fire in the Earl’s beloved library as a major first step in bringing down the family and taking over. The second book, Gormenghast, is where Steerpike’s plan truly begins to come to fruition, rising to an astonishing climax in the castle, flooded amidst raging storms. The third book, Titus Alone, takes a distinctly different tone as Titus sets out on his own to wander and see what lies beyond Gormenghast’s walls. I also read the fourth book, Titus Awakes, which was began by author Peake before his death but was left unfinished upon his untimely passing, to be finished by his widow Maeve Gilmore and strikes a similar tone to Titus Alone with a more episodic structure.
The Gormenghast sequence has been widely lauded as one of the greatest series in fantasy literature, a bit odd considering there’s very little overt fantasy actually in the book, instead it playing out as a Machiavellian gothic fiction. And yet, the books ooze a fantastical, otherworldly atmosphere. The characters feel heightened, none of them like anyone you’ve met. Gormenghast itself feels like the kind of place you would find on no map in reality, an ethereal and foreboding architecture that seems to shift and breathe throughout the books, taking on a life of its own. You get a real sense than Peake loves these characters dearly. He often injects subplots that don’t really contribute to the narrative thrust of the series but act to flesh out the various subjects, making them more than just two-dimensional caricatures. Peake’s prose is also an absolute delight to read, somehow being both elaborately fashioned and accessible at the same time. The first two novels are definitely much stronger than the third with Steerpike’s quest for power giving them a narrative focus that the third (and fourth) book lack. The second book I feel is almost certainly the best when Steerpike’s plan really starts to blossom and with a truly epic climax befitting the series. The first book is quite good as well but involves establishing the tone and characterizations for much of its run time, only really developing a more solid through line in the second half with Mr. Flay’s showdown with Swelter and the burning of the library. The third book does have a little bit of a through narrative with Titus developing a kind of mentor-like relationship with a grumpy misanthrope named Muzzlehatch and culminating in a grotesque parody of Gormenghast due to a viciously unhinged woman named Cheeta. Titus Awakes, the final book in the series, mostly written by Peake’s widow as more of an homage to Peake than intended as an actual sequel to the prior books, feels similar in structure to Titus Alone with Titus still wandering having episodic meetings with various people with the world growing increasingly more modern around him. From what I’ve read, in the latter part of the book, Titus begins to mirror Peake himself although I wasn’t aware enough of Peake’s life to have drawn that conclusion myself. It definitely cements the idea that this was written more as a tribute to Peake not intended for public consumption than a proper continuance. As such, it’s hard to fault the novel for something it isn’t trying to be.
Now to speak to why this is on a list of best horror fiction, honestly it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. Yes, it is written is the flowery, flowing, dark and atmospheric prose style of the best gothic fiction of the 19th century and yes, there are moments of dark terror and thrills (Steerpike’s final visit to the twin sisters, Flay’s battle with Swelter, Titus’ showdown with Steerpike) but overall, it’s much more of a heightened medieval-themed fiction with tinges of fantasy around the edges. Having said that, I’m glad I read it anyway. The first two books in particular are quite remarkable and satisfying with a noticeable influence on much of modern fantasy. Fans of Neil Gaiman, George R. R. Martin and many others will see the fingerprints of Gormenghast on much of what they have written, whether it be characterizations, plotting details or general atmosphere. Overall, Gormenghast is highly recommended for fans of fantasy fiction everywhere.

The Cipher (Kathe Koja, 1991)

List: NPR

Nicholas and Nakota are a fucked up pair of degenerates in the dregs of society who stumble across a mysterious abyss in a dilapidated tenement building. They dub it the “fun hole” and before long Nakota’s intense fascination with it leads to macabre experiments of sending bugs and mouse heads into it, warped them into odd shapes that distorts nature. It begins to spiral out of control when they send a video camera down into the hole, filming the oblivion. What they see on the tape begins to affect them and those around them in increasingly disturbing ways. Nicholas in particular is both drawn to and repelled by the “fun hole” even more intensely than most. That could have something to do with his own fun sized “fun hole” growing in his hand.
The Cipher is misanthropy incarnate. The character of Nicholas seethes with nihilism oozing from every pore (in some ways more literally than others). The book reminds me of the style of Caitlin R. Kiernan’s stream of conscious weirdness (and it wouldn’t surprise me of Koja was a major influence on Kiernan) with Nicholas’s thoughts a constant mishmash of running commentary on the gutter trash situations he finds himself in. The whole time though, you get a sense that he knows or cares about more than he’s letting on, giving it an unreliable narrator tone at times. At other times though, he comes across completely unfiltered and ambivalent about every screwed up thing he stumbles into. In a way, this creates a somewhat unfulfilling experience. If my main character doesn’t care about what’s happening, why should I? Additionally the book feels heavily with very little actually happening in the second act besides our narrator ranting about how shitty Nakota’s friends are and complaining about how terrible he feels. I honestly feel like this would’ve worked better as a novelette maybe. The premise is an interesting one and there are definitely some engaging plot developments in places, but the pacing just drags at times with Koja wanting you to feel as shitty as the characters in the book. Having said all that, I can definitely see why this was seen as a breath of fresh air coming out of the more straightforward King/Koontz horror explosion of the ’80s, offering something more strange, uncomfortable and abstract.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (Stephen SondheimHugh Wheeler, 1979)

List: Jones/Newman

The story of Sweeney Todd is something of a sad one. A former barber, imprisoned unjustly by a corrupt judge who rapes Todd’s wife, driving her to madness, and takes Todd’s daughter as his ward, grooming her to become the evil judge’s wife. The story picks up with Todd having broken out of prison with an intense lust for revenge. He rents out a place above Mrs. Lovett, a pie maker of ill-repute. Due to a set of circumstances involving blackmail, Todd slices open the neck of an unscrupulous peddler whose body is then used in Mrs. Lovett’s meat pies. Upon her new meat pies’ success, Lovett convinces Todd of a new enterprise, one where Todd provides the bodies (unmarried, no family) while Mrs. Lovett provides the pies. Meanwhile Todd desperately wants his revenge.
Sweeney Todd was first written in penny dreadful serial form back in 1846 and become an almost instant success, spawning multiple stage adaptations, most famous Sondheim’s morbidly amusing and surprisingly poignant version first produced in 1979 which this book was adapted from. I’ve never seen the stage play in person yet (but I’d like to some day), but I have seen Tim Burton’s film version which stays largely faithful to Sondheim’s original production. While the general plot points were already familiar, one thing I very much appreciated on reading this was picking up the nuances in the lyrics which at times can fly by while watching the staged production. Songs like “A Little Priest” and “God, that’s Good” are even funnier when I’m able to break down exactly what’s being sung and a song like “Pretty Women” is easier to appreciate with its layered meanings. Some may wonder why a transcribed play was included in a list of best horror novels. While I haven’t read the original version (sometimes referred to as String of Pearls), if it’s anything like other penny dreadfuls of the time, it’s most likely overly long-winded with many needless digressions (after all, the authors were paid by the word, not the quality). What Sondheim does in taking the already more compact stage play version and injecting songs both bitterly humorous and haunting in equal measure, heightens the material, making more meaningful and atmospheric than it may have otherwise been in its original incarnation. If you’re a fan of the musical, check this one out to get a deeper sense of the subject matter. If you’ve never seen the musical in any form, I may suggest actually watching it first to give you a context into the cadence and rhythms of the songs which tends to have a lot of discordant, overlapping verse which can come across a little confusing in text form if you aren’t familiar with how it was original presented. Otherwise, it’s pretty short and worth a look.

Fancies and Goodnights (John Collier, 1951)

List: Jones/Newman

John Collier was a noted short fiction writer whose macabre and bitterly funny and ironic stories often appeared in a bevy of periodicals throughout the ’30s through ’50s. His writing is known for its polished but incredibly satiric and misanthropic themes with occasional fantastical premises, and his stories have often been compared to Saki’s but with a darker, mean streak to them. His stories with their brisk pacing and humorously twisted endings made for a good fit for anthology TV series for which he was often adapted. His works have appeared in Lights Out, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, The Twilight Zone, Tales of the Unexpected and others. Fancies and Goodnights collections a big chunk of his best fiction from this time period into one handy tome of death, revenge and seething humor.
Collier’s stories in Fancies & Goodnights range from macabre tales of murder like “The Touch of Nutmeg Makes It”, “Wet Saturday” (whose story of weird family homicide seems like a precursor to stuff like Spider Baby) and “Back for Christmas” to bizarre flights of fancy like the genii of “Bottle Party”, the weird after hours department store civilization of “Evening Primrose” or the strange plant tale “Green Thoughts”. While some of Collier’s stories do come across a little predictable and repetitive (he’s especially fond of husbands and wives killing each other), overall I found this collection absolutely delightful and highly readable. While some of the books in this monster horror list have felt a little like a chore at times (The Wandering Jew, I’m looking at you…), I actively looked forward to diving into the next story in this collection with a giddy anticipation of what kind of weird, funny nonsense Collier will come up with. I definitely recommend this one.

Goosebumps Round-Up #3

Welcome to another batch of that ragtag runt classic series Goosebumps. I guess at this point I’m resigned to finish all 62 of these damn things.

Welcome to Dead House: This was the first Goosebumps release and honestly Stine seems to have wanted to put his best foot forward. This was a pretty decent haunted house/creepy town story with a nice downbeat ending which Goosebumps seemed to waffle back and forth on through its run.

Let’s Get Invisible: The title of this one is a little misleading. While yes, it does involve kids going invisible, the crux of the story really revolves around the haunted mirror that allows it. The actual reveal of what’s going on, while pretty predictable, was less goofy than it could’ve been, making for another decent Goosebumps book.

Be Careful What You Wish For…: This one was a lame Monkey’s Paw-type riff where a klutzy girl wishes she was the best basketball player on her team and all the other players get a lot worse instead of her getting better. Meep murp. Oh well.

Why I’m Afraid of Bees: A nerdy kid tries to switch bodies with a strong, popular kid but ends up as a bee instead. It then basically turns into a riff on the original The Fly. Not great.

Attack of the Mutant: This was a pretty lame one about a comic nerd who ends up in the fortress of an evil supervillain. It’s predictable and not even remotely scary.

It Came from Beneath the Sink!: This one’s about a goofy living sponge that causes bad luck. Not scary at all.

Chicken, Chicken: A weird goth girl puts a curse on a girl and her brother that causes them to slowly start turning into chickens… Yea, this one is extremely stupid.

The Blob That Ate Everyone: This one was an ok kinda meta story about a typewriter that brings the stories typed on it to life. Based on the title of the book, you can guess what happens.

The Curse at Camp Cold Lake: This one spins its wheels for a long time, focusing on the main character being picked on by her bunk mates (not necessarily undeservedly I might say… she comes across as a major spazz). Eventually a ghost girl shows up trying to kill her so she can be her friend forever. Not one of the better Goosebumps books.

Werewolf Skin: This was a decent ‘spying on creepy neighbors who might be werewolves’ story. Not as relentlessly stupid as some Goosebumps books are.