The British Are Coming (To Scare You Silly): They Take Them When You're Not Looking (Frank Duffy)

                                                                                 

I've been excited about this one for a while, in no small part based on that cover. It looks exactly like I love about the Ramsey Campbell school of British horror, so when I saw Frank was giving out review ARCs, I snatched one up. I'm glad I did, because this is an entertaining and spooky collection. 

Also, do yourself a favor, and read my last review somewhere in the middle. I'm saying that for a specific reason. I really don't like the last story here at all, but I also really liked this book and I feel bad about ending on a down note. I mean it. Don't read it first, either--it'll probably seem a little too harsh since I haven't yet established how good this book is. Read it in the middle.

When You Look Behind

Synopsis: It's the dreary late 1970s in England, and it's particularly dreary for Edwin. His guilt over bombing Cologne in the war is part of it--but closer to home in every sense is the senseless, mysterious death of his wife. What he needs is a good bike ride. . . 

Thoughts: A strong opener, and a thesis statement for much of the rest of the book: British horror in the Campbellian tradition, blending between the psychological and the supernatural, and drenching it all in moody, gloomy British flavor (or, should I say "flavour")? 

The story itself is a not unfamiliar plot, but it is well executed, and the war guilt gives what would be a standard fantastic twist some resonance. 

If I Had A Photograph Of You

Synopsis: A groom-to-be goes on a photoshoot in a strange churchyard.

Thoughts: The strangest piece in the book, in a good way. It accomplishes the trick of being consistent and making sense while being entirely dreamlike and unconstrained. The secret is Duffy's keen sense of psychology. All of us, from time to time, have experienced nearly every sort of emotion. More good ones than bad, I hope, and never to the degree that Duffy's characters do, but it's enough that we can relate.

(This grounding, by the way, is even more important in physical horror and depictions of violence. Nobody's survived chainsaw disembowelment, and if they have, they're unlikely to be reading or watching your splatter extravaganza. But many people have experienced broken bones or damage to their nails, teeth, or hair, and that's the stuff that can make them wince. There's a reason the bloodless torture scene in Marathon Man is so notorious). 

This reminds me a lot of two great Roberts--Aickman and Shearman. There’s a good stinger of a last line that captures the dreamy whirlpool reality of Dead of Night. 

Even though this story is not grounded in reality, the threat feels real. This is one of the marks of great fantasy writing. 

The Jump or the Meal

Synopsis: A music critic with a flatlining career finds himself sharing a hotel with a horror convention.

Thoughts: Very Campbellian, from the isolated and dreary hotel (I got pleasant shudders remembering his all-time hit “The Entertainment”, which is in a similar locale) to the humor (er, "humour"). That humor is important in atmospheric stories like Campbell's or Duffy's where the overwhelming unity of effect and grim atmosphere can become too oppressive or, worse, bathetic. 

I will say, this is a somewhat threatening story to read if you are a critic, and when a character mentions some jerk named Gordon has been going around calling everyone a very rude word, I began to fear my review copy was a personalized warning just for me, in the "Casting the Runes" style. . . 

Hold Close the Truth of Yourself

Synopsis: Two couples with relationship troubles take an Italian vacation.

Thoughts: SPOILERS.

As beautiful, elegant, and deadly as a bejeweled stiletto. Reminds me a bit of Aickman, and a lot of John Burke's masterful "Lucille Would Have Known." 

The best part of this story is that it ends exactly when it should. I don't think it's a spoiler to say that things go bad here, because 1) this is a book of horror stories with 2) a menacing title and 3) a scary naked old guy on the cover that's been 4) published by a house called "Uncomfortably Dark." Not to insist on the tyranny of genre expectations, but come on!

To say any more would spoil the fun, though.

The Depths of Belief

Synopsis: Two schoolteachers chaperoning a class outing stumble upon a nasty secret in the Black Temple Caves. 

Thoughts: This is an interesting story because there's not that much to it, and I admit that while I was reading it, I was keeping a tally of all the other stories it reminded me of (Ramsey Campbell's "The End of a Summer's Day" and "Rising Generation," Mark Morris's "Fallen Boys," A.C. Wise's "Hold Us in the Light"). But this one's stuck with me since then. It's one of the first three stories I think of when I think (fondly) of this book.

So, what's the X-Factor? Two parts, really: A strong beginning and a strong ending. The beginning description of the contempt and disinterest students and teachers alike have for the "annual sponsored walk" is great: Some teachers flirt and smoke, others bark at their charges like drill sergeants, while the kids themselves waddle around and curse.  It's the sort of wry, part playful, part biting summary of human nature that nobody quite does the way the British do.

The ending. . .not to give things away, but there are elements to it which go to exactly the juxtaposition of close danger with close safety that we just discussed last week in Gary McMahon's "Diving Deep."

We Take Them When You're Not Looking

Synopsis: A nurse starts a job at a retirement home with stunningly high turnover of both patients and staff.

Thoughts: Good, scary, but a little overstuffed. I'd say this is the Next of Kin of horror stories: A cool, creepy slow-burn at an old folks' home that wears out its welcome but redeems itself with style points (unfortunately, there's no Klaus Schulze soundtrack, more's the pity).

I think it is too literal; most of the time, Duffy's stories strike the appropriate balance between psychological fear and the "physical" manifestation of that horror. Here, it comes down a bit harder on the latter side than I'd have liked. What starts as a nasty metaphor for mistreatment of the elderly becomes not only literal (that's fine) but detailed on, well, the logistics of it. And because the whole premise is ridiculous (again, not necessarily a problem), the more it's grounded in "reality," the larger the cracks appear. 

Compare this to Dennis Etchison's "The Dog Park." That's a masterpiece of implication and fear, but if you think literally about what Etchison is suggesting is going on in the ravine behind the dog park, it's silly as hell. It's like something that pops up as a curveball in a Richard Laymon novel (and, in fact, Laymon basically does "go there" three-fourths of the way through No Sanctuary). But we love "The Dog Park" because it weaves very deftly from reality to literalized metaphor and back again.

This isn't a bad story--it's icky and creepy--but the version that's here is not the version I would most like to have read. 

Build Them Up To Knock Them Down

Synopsis: Two old school friends attend a comeback concert for their former classmate's band. 

Thoughts: Spoilers. 

I enjoy the character work here; two old school friends but one of them is stuck in the past, reliving glory days that weren't that glorious to begin with. 

The denouement is cool; it reminds me of Richard Ayre's Minstrel trilogy, which is an inconsistent but entertaining set of novels in the James Herbert/Shaun Hutson mode of British paperback nasties. It isn't, however, particularly scary or well-motivated. Compare to Buzz Dixon's "The Angry Dead." That's also a story of supernaturally-fueled rock revenge hinging on the incredible spitefulness of a star musician. When I read that story the first time, I wondered the same thing I did at the end of this--"would he really be that mean?" Dixon's story convinced me, but this one didn't as much. We don't spend enough time establishing things. 

Compare to Iron Maiden's "The Longest Day"--great British rock set-up with a conclusion whose pyrotechnics can't live up to the build-up. As a result, it feels slightly less than it really is. 

Private Ceremonies

Synopsis: An eccentric family gathers at their estate to deal with mom. 

Thoughts: It's fun when we have a story that sets itself up as a guessing game, although such stories are generally limited in how good they can be, and sometimes don't bear revisiting. Even Richard Christian Matheson, who's the king of this when it works (see "Red" or "The Great Fall") can't always pull it off even in a one-pager (cf. "The Dark Ones"). 

It all just feels a little like filler, but no worries because the next story is dynamite. 

Imposter Syndrome

Synopsis: An amateur filmmaker directs a horror movie based on a friend's story, but finds himself living out the tale of psychological disintegration. 

Thoughts: Again, there are elements of Campbell and similar writers, but I want to praise this story by comparing it to something completely different. 

It reminds me of the underrated late-70s thriller Effects, in which a bunch of familiar faces from George Romero's orbit go to the woods around Pittsburgh to make a supernatural horror movie. Or are they really making a snuff film? Or are they really making a horror movie about a snuff film? Or are they really making a snuff film about making a snuff film while pretending to make a horror movie? Or, or, or. . .

The two works are different in their surface aesthetic--Duffy's story takes place within a world of British middle-class respectability, intrigue, and emotional politics, and Effects is a sleazy, coked-out oddball milieu where if you go to the local bar you might run into Savini in a propellor hat (seriously, see this movie). 

However, they both do something that lots of works (horror and non-horror) try to do, but few pull off, which is to constantly switch the frame of 'reality' in a way that the story is always several steps ahead of you, but it's always fun.

Monster

Synopsis: New deputy head of the secondary school Ian Bury has charmed everyone. But Lincoln, a local reporter, can see right through him.. . 

Thoughts: Spoilers. . .although I'm hard-pressed to say that something revealed within the first third is a "spoiler." Technically, the way Child's Play is written it's a spoiler to say it's about an evil doll, but why be coy?

I do enjoy the "manipulation of a community" theme; Richard Matheson's "The Distributor" is probably my favorite version. I am also fond of J.L. Comeau's "The Owen Street Monster," which if I remember correctly, is quite similar to this story (for one thing, it has the instigator of the chaos come from within the community rather than without). 

Duffy does a good job in the first few pages of setting us against Ian Bury, and then making us feel like dupes when we realize Lincoln's the psycho. However, after that, Lincoln winds up being a psycho super-villain and we trudge to the conclusion.

The Truth Is What We Say It Is

Synopsis: A film crew is filming an exploitative documentary about the poor residents of a counsel estate, but they're not the only show in town. . . 

Thoughts: Another incredibly strong story; this one goes into some Ligotti-ish territory with its sinister circus stalking seedy slums. However, there's a morality play element here that there isn't in Ligotti's stuff most of the time; it's an extravagant supernatural retribution that reminds me of Basil Copper's "Camera Obscura" of all things. 

The imagery is some of the scariest in the book, but the most grueling scene is thoroughly non-fantastic: One of the locals realizes in the middle of a shoot what's going on and how he's being set up to look, and his attempts to defend his dignity only make him look like more of a lower-class lout. Finally, disgusted with himself and the crew, he downs another of the beers they gave him in an act of both humiliation and defiance. It's potent stuff, and handled with more authenticity than I've sometimes seen in well-intentioned non-genre fiction. 

In the Music There Is Always a Shadow

Synopsis: Sadie attempts to collect on a contract she's made with a famous star. 

Thoughts: It's interesting and well-written, and the variety of settings and eras works well. I could see this being a heckuva Harlan Ellison story. I don't find the plot that interesting, but that's a personal bias; certainly this is better than many other "Faust with celebrities" stories (for example, the underbaked "Sharps and Flats Guarantee"). 

The other part is that the rules of the game, such as they are, didn't totally make sense to me (although, to paraphrase HAL 9000, "It's probably reader error.")

It's entertaining in the moment, but didn't really engage me.

Different Sacrifices

Synopsis: Years after his occultist mother's suicide, a neurotic young man brings his coworkers to the seaside town where she died.

Thoughts: Spoilers!

The first half is better than the second half, although that has some shocking pleasures of its own. I like Harry most as a sympathetic schlub--almost a Mark Corrigan figure in how he deals with his work colleagues. This is a great example of a tactic I find successful in horror writing: Adding a relatable, mundane concern (work issues, relationship issues, even just catching an important bus or plane) to keep us worrying (and relating to the character) even before anything horrific or supernatural occurs. Again, Ramsey Campbell is a master at this, but he's far from the only one. Some of Stephen King's best work--in particular, The Shining--hits this note as well.

When Harry degenerates into a spree-killer version of Karswell from "Casting the Runes", it is shocking. Part of it is that Duffy's managed our sympathies well. Harry's coworkers are the sort of snide insider bullies we all hate and have encountered at some point--maybe at work, maybe at school, maybe at a book club or a pickup league; maybe just second-hand from some unfortunate friend telling us their sorrows. They're the sort of people who "deserve" to die within the comic book morality that much supernatural fiction operates under. At this point, we might consider Harry "justified," but things get nastier still. It's enough of a shock that it overcomes the rushed, told-not-shown nature of the last couple paragraphs. 

Performers

Synopsis: Traumatized after a random assault on the street, a man reluctantly goes on a date to a very transgressive art gallery.

Thoughts: Spoilers:

If you get beaten, join 'em!

Some of this I like, some of this I don't. It's just missing. . .something. 

There are any number of mechanisms which could explain why Daniel has his about-face, both rooted in real life psychology and sociology, and in the violent Urban Wyrd cosmology of stories like Harlan Ellison's "The Whimper of Whipped Dogs" or Tony Richards' "The Lords of Zero."  I don't think I'm being dense (at least, not willfully). 

The art is cool; it's the sort of area that invites a writer to lard on details, and Duffy does this well. Some of it is chilling (the mural of a city best by violence, which reminds me of Cleon Peterson's controversial depictions of murder and domination), and some of it is avant-garde goofy (the topless performance artist jumping out a cardboard box with "FETUS" painted on her belly). 

Not the strongest story here, but I'm fond of it. 

Crime Scene Enthusiasts

Synopsis: Three true crime fans investigate a series of lethal stabbings.

Thoughts: That I've lavished praise on the collection so far keeps me from feeling guilty in my thoughts on this, because I really didn't like it. I feel bad about saying that for the grand finale to the book, since Duffy surely spent a lot of time writing this one, but 

It's sprawling and self-indulgent, beginning with the "manifesto" of a killer cult that reminds me of Cobra, which is rarely a good thing. 

Any observant reader--and I can't imagine an unobservant reader sticking with the book until the end, because the stories demand and reward close readings--can clock the main "twist" here. 

The ideas here are relevant and interesting, but they've been done better in a variety of places. "The Whimper of Whipped Dogs" is one, and Harlan Ellison's story "Flop Sweat" is another. Maybe John Shirley's "The Rubber Smile," too. In fact, despite my criticisms of "Performers," I think Duffy achieves what he's trying to do here with more effective results. 

Don't let that put you off getting your hands on this collection, though--it's good! Very good.