Lights Out: The Darker Side: Generations of Horror (ed. John Pelan) Part I

                                                                                     

It's been feeling a little. . . respectable. . .around here lately. We've been on a diet of Ellen Datlow anthologies and Charlie Grant quiet horrors, and while there's been more than a little evisceration and exsanguination, let's switch it up. Let's flick that selector switch all the way to full-auto. Let's rock and roll with another John Pelan Darkside anthology!

The late John Pelan edited a bunch of anthologies, including five that, while not a formal series to my knowledge, all contain some variation of the phrase "Darkside" or "Dark Side", and were all published by ROC/New American Library.  As with the last one, this book is full of names that will be familiar to the horror fan, but probably less so to the more mainstream audience. Here's about half of them: 

Do You See What I Fear? by Edo van Belkom

Synopsis: The removal of a brain tumor causes a woman to see eerie, all-black figures who portend death.

Thoughts: A solid start. I like the idea of these set-dressers in a macabre "Adjustment Bureau" scenario.  The uncanny nature of seeing these guys in daylight measuring and planning where they're going to cut works well. I also like how van Belkom threads the needle in deploying extreme content.

Without getting too far into it, there's a part where these guys are plotting out the imminent death of a kid, and the implications based on what they're doing are stomach churning--but van Belkom doesn't have to actually go all the way for us to fill in the blanks. You can't blame our protagonist for intervening, even if it doesn't go well. 

Demon Me by Simon Clark

Synopsis: A surveillance consultant is plagued by threatening demonic visions.

Thoughts: I was excited by this. I found Clark's Blood Crazy to be, after an incredible opening, a tedious YA post-apocalyptic book, but I have fond feelings towards the one or two short stories of his I've read since then. And, for the first couple pages, I thought he was going to do it again. 

Alas, no. Just like Blood Crazy, we have a scary and nutso start and then settle into tedium. The opening in the supermarket, tracking characters and apparitions across CCTV monitors, is exciting. And there's a fun little bit of sexiness, too. But then we have a slog, broken up only with improbabilities (for example--the amount the high-tech supermarket is spending to prevent pilferage is absurd; it's not like this is The Store or anything) and whatever the literary equivalent of CGI gore is.

Spirits of the Flesh by Seth Lindberg

Synopsis: A miracle worker can bring the dead back to life. But the deal he's had to strike with the Other Side has been a tough one, and now he's out of the game. Or wants to be. But he desperately needs cash, and when the opportunity presents itself, he plans to kill two birds with one stone.

Thoughts: The first really strong story in the book. More than anything else, what I love is the gritty, splatterpunk/new horror urban milieu; it's like the story of Lazarus as written by William Gibson or John Shirley. You'd think that a resurrectionist would be wealthy, respectable, and holy, but instead our miracle worker is a sick, broken derelict who lives among the same junkies and club kids who hire him. This is a great story.

The Misfit Child Grows Fat on Despair by Tom Piccirilli

Synopsis: A bank robbery gets interrupted by a very special bystander.

Thoughts: At first, this seems a little like "Mr. Sly Stops For A Cup Of Joe" by Scott Emerson Bull (featured in the great anthology Gathering the Bones, which we'll discuss here sometime): We have violent shithead criminals trying to conduct armed robbery by screaming, and getting stopped by a massive bystander who, while sinister in his own right, is the provisional hero.

And that could be enough for a story; it was for Bull. But Piccirilli isn't going halfway. I don't think he ever went halfway. What we wind up with is one-half X-Files cold open and one-half terrifying phantasmagoria, a vision of hell as cabined within a single psyche, written with all the sweat-dripping intensity Piccirilli could muster. Which is a lot. This story won a Stoker in 2002, and I can see why.

Pull by Brian Hodge

Synopsis: A bunch of guys who never left the old neighborhood welcome their pal Tommy back for a visit. Soon, our narrator sees first-hand just why it's so hard to get out. 

Thoughts: This is a great story; it's just not super horrific.  It's up to the high quality I expect from Hodge (I don't think I've ever read a disappointing Brian Hodge story), with especially good dialogue. However, the extra kick of the horrorific or the fantastic that he injects his very best work with isn't here.  I think part of why I'm a little harsher on this than it deserves, objectively, is that it's coming right after Piccirilli's incredible story. That one is doing so dang much that something like this seems less in comparison. 

Taking a step back, though, I think the subtler approach works. This would have been a heckuva Greystone Bay story, actually.

Mamishka and the Sorcerer by Jessica Amanda Salmonson

Synopsis: 17th century Eastern Europe: The peasant couple Mamishka and Anton Levi have their troubles. For example, the community is convinced Anton Levi is a witch, and are about to act accordingly. 

Thoughts: Among the various hyper-niche sub-categories of story I'm not a fan of is the "fantastical origins of a historical figure." 

There are a few exceptions--Harlan Ellison's "Shoppe Keeper" stands out, although there the historical element is less the point than the justification for the extravagant fantasy (It is, to use a very Harlan word, lagniappe). The other thing I'm not interested in is the history of the occult. 

All that being said--Salmonson is a good writer and this is a well-written story. I think other people might find this more effective--I'm not very interested in what she's selling, but I'll easily admit the quality of the goods is high.

Pets by James S. Dorr

Synopsis: The former Yugoslavia is tearing itself apart, but Gregor Kubcek has found all manner of companions. There's Eva, the comely nurse at the overburdened hospital. There are the musicians and patrons of the makeshift cabaret that provides passing relief from the horrors of war. And there's the hordes of cockroaches Gregor keeps as pets. . .

Thoughts: When I first read this one, I didn't like it--the writing and setting were good (I love the ragtag bar they hang out at), but the stuff with the roaches felt predictable. 

I suppose it is, but on a revisit I think this is a story where the plot is less important than the vibes, man, the vibes. In that sense, what happens with the roaches by the end is similar to what the characters are doing the whole story: Trying to keep life and beauty going on, no matter how grotesque the circumstances. 

The Lamb by Paul Finch

Synopsis: Catholic seminarian Damien tries to stave off Lust with a tour of the Roman catacombs.

Thoughts: Finch depicts Damien's guilt, and his erotic thoughts, with a degree of sensitivity you don't often see. But, once Damien blunders off into the catacombs, the story similarly gets lost. The main story is good, and the way it ties into the historical persecution of Christians by depraved Romans is good too. 

But Finch doesn't stop there; he drags in some of the most hackneyed, post-Psycho sex-murder backstory this side of Don't Go In The House. So, the story gets pulled in too many directions (like a martyr being broken on a torture device).  

The Mannerly Man by Mehitobel Wilson

Synopsis: Heinlein said a well-armed society is a polite society. Even more polite is America after the Right to One law was passed. Now everyone gets the right to one murder, no strings attached, so everyone is always polite.

Thoughts: Terrific set up and world-building; Wilson's future society is absurd enough, yet realistic enough, to be good satire. My problem with this story is that it then veers off into an almost Etchisonian direction, with mistaken identities, fading reality, and even a touch of Hollywood. And that's fine, except for a story where we're trying to figure out what the world is, introducing this amount of ambiguity is a bit confusing and gets in the way. I wonder whether this wouldn't be better off as part of a story-cycle like Etchison's "transplant trilogy," so that by the time you get to this story the weirdness can be better appreciated. It is a serious quibble, but even with these flaws the story is funny and creepy in even measure.

Just Someone Her Mother Might Know by Michelle Scalise

Synopsis: A trailer park girl, freed from her religious fanatic mother's control, begins an unfulfilling affair with a local lothario. Meanwhile, body parts start appearing at her front door

Thoughts: I read this one after Silva's "The Origin," and a day after reading P.D. Cacek's "The Grave" in 999 so I had already just read two stories of, frankly, higher quality about 1) screwed-up, repressive mother-daughter relationships and 2) white trash. This is still effectively scuzzy (and the nonchalance of our heroine to the body parts is funny). It just isn't doing a lot that other people around this time weren't

I'm a bit confused by the ending. Has Eleanor's mom actually been coming back from the dead? Or, more likely, has ... just gone Edwina Gein and poor Errol will be the first of many victims? In some stories it doesn't really matter how literal the ending is, but this story is mostly grounded in reality.

The Ocean by Poppy Z. Brite

Synopsis: The rock band Fly is reaching new heights, and lows, of excess and dissolution. 

Thoughts: Fly and its fanbase are the coolest of decadent '90s vibes, and stuff like the opening champagne fight and the argument over the leopard photo-op are great frothy bits of decadence. You can feel the enervating nature of all this, the relentless compulsion to consume and exploit and enjoy...just because? However, the story doesn't really go anywhere except to a very obvious observation about the nature of fandom. All in all, this is a middle of the road story. . .but in a book of this quality, even "just" middle of the road isn't a bad place to be.

The Origin by David B. Silva

Synopsis: An investigation of the background of a serial killer, beginning with his first murder at 16 and going backwards from there.

Thoughts: Silva doesn't miss. Most of the story is an uncomfortable look at a trailer park psychopath in the making--very much like what Rob Zombie's Halloween set out to (but didn't) accomplish. Silva's decision to only show the first murder and not the rest of the killer's career is a tasteful one.

What makes the story haunting, though, is that Silva doesn't single out any of the 'obvious' causes (poverty, family trouble, abuse, institutional failures) as dispositive. They're all accelerants, but ultimately the culprit is an idle thought, a sickness of the soul.

After the Flood by Joel Lane

Synopsis: University student Matthew's first love disappears, perhaps lost in a flood. Soon after, he encounters a new girl, but something's strange. . .

Thoughts: This story reminded me of a a devastating Onion article: "Thing With Old Girlfriend Works With New Girlfriend".  But, this story is actually less depressing than that (even if it's mostly a moody, dank little piece). Think a watery mix of Vertigo and Dennis Etchison's "The Wet Season."

 

The Night City by Chad Hensley and Wilum Pugmire

Synopsis: Two men, a master and an acolyte, travel through a fantastic and grotesque city.

Thoughts: A Goth phantasmagoria, like a Sisters of Mercy video that would never make it past MTV Standards & Practices. The plotline here is barely existent and the writing overwrought. But, when the vibes are this good and the imagery this vivid, that can be all you need! Just ask any Dario Argento fan. A story I'm going to revisit again and again, just to wallow in the creative decadence. . .