Book Blitz! Volume 3 - Ghost Stories

Ghost stories! What's not to like? I'm a sucker for any sort of atmospheric horror tale. Creeping dread? Yes please! If you're a fan too, read on. Today I'm offering my opinion on two very different spooky tales. Don't agree with me? Please let me know in the comments. I'm quite curious to know what other folks thought of these.

First up is The Man in the Picture, by Susan Hill. I found this at The Elliot Bay Book Company in Seattle when we visited during the Emerald City Comicon. It's my very favorite place to shop for books, and I had high hopes for this one. It was billed as an update of the classic gothic ghost tale, complete with family secrets, chills up the spine, and an elderly academic with deep regrets, all placed in the modern era. Well, it did deliver on those things, and it was indeed much like a Victorian ghost story, but for me it somehow fell flat. The story felt a bit airless, even, dare I say, stuffy. It was an entertaining read and I don't at all regret picking it up, but I think it hued a bit too close to convention for my tastes. That said, the book itself is a thing of beauty. Palm-sized, hardbound, nicely printed, and tastefully produced: a real little gem. I hope books like these are never completely replaced by digital copies.

At the other end of the spectrum is Volume One of Joe Harris and Steve Rolston's Ghost Projekt. I have to admit, I picked this up at House of Secrets in Burbank based only on its cover. Sure, there's some sort of ghost horse on there. But even better, holding the book is a tactile experience. There's a swirly, sandy veneer to it that kind of glows in the dark. I'm usually not such a push-over for that kind of thing, but c'mon, how could I resist?

What's inside, you may ask? Well, I don't want to give anything away but I will say that it's a real romp through post-soviet Russia, if such a thing is possible. There are scary ghost-things, a possibly trustworthy cat, high stakes for the American that gets himself involved, and some quite creepy disease-like killings. I say give this one a go if you aren't afraid of touching the cover. I can't promise that it's not feeding off your soul through your fingertips.

And please, feel free to suggest some of your favorite ghost stories. I'm always on the lookout for creeping dread!

Gone to Be Snakes Now... Sure, Why Not?

What you see in the photo is my new obsession. I found it in my stocking Christmas morning (well, fake Christmas morning. I had to work on Christmas so we celebrated a day late) and all I can say is: Santa must know me pretty darn well. I mean, look at that cover! The triptastic patterning surrounding and penetrating the reproachful elderly gentleman... To say nothing of the brilliant title! It's the title that really gets me, of course. Is it a colloquialism? A warning? Kidspeak? I'm only halfway through, and I still don't know. It seems to be all of those, and more, and decidedly less.

For, you see, this book is awful. I mean, really, really, no holds barred, gloriously awful. I don't think the author even intended kitsch. The story seems to be meant as allegory more than actual science fiction. And I think this book is the real deal, somebody's heartfelt look at the "modern" era, and growing up. There are girls who are sexual and mysterious and know things about the "outside". There's a rebellious boy who's still a virgin but doesn't want to be. There are lots of trouser snakes. There's a hyper-sexualized mutated creature who haunts the town, killing men and taking willing girls back to his cave. No one can remember what came before their grandparents got to the town, or knows how they got there.

Oh, and did I mention that the town is named Exxon? And that the only other towns are named Mobile and Texaco? How about the part where everyone lives in giant, non-functioning gas stations? We learn early on that the main character is the "heir to the pumps of Exxon". And for some reason there is lots of talk about Henry James, despite the fact that few of the characters seem to know what books are.... Oh, and don't get me started on the play that some of the kids decide to put on in the swamp. It involves lots of poetry, and sex, and a girl dressed as a mushroom as other kids lift her into the air while intoning "boom, boom, boom". Really!

So, of course I had to do a little research to find out who this mad genius of an author might be. Turns out that Neal Bell was just a youth himself when this book was published in 1974. He did, in fact, receive his MFA that year! Aha! I think that may explain an awful lot here. Today he is a professor of Practice of Theater Studies at Duke University. He has a ton of produced plays to his name, as well as many television credits, including stints as a writer on One Life to Live and Knots Landing. Which somehow makes perfect sense... As does the fact that Gone to Be Snakes Now is his only published novel.

Thanks, Santa!

Book Blitz! Volume 1

I don't know about the rest of the world, but in this house the New Year always starts off with a lot of new books. Christmas here is definitely book-giving season, and so is my birthday. I'm something of a book pack rat: if I don't have a backlog of reading material several months long I feel insecure. What if our bank account was hacked and emptied and I couldn't buy books? Better have several dozen waiting to read just in case...

One book that I only just got around to is Swimming in Stone: The Amazing Gogo Fossils of the Kimberley by John Long. My husband and I saw Dr. Long speak at Cal Tech University several months back and I was impressed enough to pick it up.

Although "Gogo fossil" sounds like some sort of 70's slang it in fact refers to amazingly well preserved Devonian era reef remains in Western Australia. This area was once covered in a shallow warm sea, and, lucky for us, many of the details of the ecosystem that thrived here have been preserved. Unlike many sites where long-dead animals have only left impressions in the rocks, here whole skeletons still exist. This is important because it was during this time that fish were making many of the evolutionary steps that would someday lead to us. Steps like jaws, for instance. Not to mention limbs, and lungs.

Dr. Long does a nice job of outlining the importance of the fossils, the infighting that can stymie research, and the personalities of the major players. I find myself awed by the shear weight of the ages that separate us from these amazing animals and amazed that we can still learn so much from them. It must caution you, though: if you have no interest in fossils, fish, or evolution you may find the going a bit dry. Dr. Long does not shy away from technical terms or latin labels.

A completely different reading experience can be found in the pages of Jason Little's Motel Art Improvement Service. It's the rare graphic novel that isn't afraid to depict banal settings, trusting that the protagonists will make the story interesting. And here they do. Motels both cheap and slickly corporate are imbued with suspense and pathos through Little's clean art and masterful narrative structure.

I should issue a warning here too: this is not a kiddie comic. Anyone too young to understand the menstrual cycle as a plot device should definitely stay away: if they persist they will only be met with sex, drugs, and complex ideas about the role of art in society. Folks old enough to enjoy coffee should find it a definite lark though.

So, that's what I've read so far this year. What's on your bedside table?

Wordless Wednesday featuring Emmett (2nd Edition)