Oculus Presents: More bookses!

 

Greetings, everyone!

 

As I said in my last book-collecting post, I had a couple more books relevant to this blog on the way, and they arrived a few weeks ago, I was just a bit busy (read: lazy) to properly introduce these beauties.

Not that the one on the left needs an introduction, I think: it's an original edition of the first book in legendary Scary Stories series, which has been scaring the living bejezus out of American kids for generations now. Like many people, I'm not a super great fan of the more recent editions with the new drawings; I perfectly understand wanting to make these books more kid-friendly than the gnarly nightmares concocted by Stephen Gammell were, but the horrifying black-and-white watercolors were at least half of the charm of these books for me when I first encountered excerpts from them on the internet. Especially the drawing for the story called The Dream - yeah, I mean her. Hats off for spicing up my nightmares, Mr. Gammell. I've had my eyes on this book for a while now; and when it arrived, it was to my great delight that I saw: yes, it does contain the drawings. I won't review this book on the blog, because it's not rare or obscure at all, quite the contrary - but I can definitely appreciate it on my own.

The book on the right with the gorgeous cover, meanwhile, is a short story collection by the esteemed former horror author (I say former because as far as I've heard, she's mostly moved on to other genres lately) Kathe Koja. If you know anything about American horror literature history you know her: she is the author of the groundbreaking, legendary horror novel The Cipher, kickstarting the famed Dell/Abyss line of boundary-pushing horror books. For a while The Cipher had fallen out of print and became a collector's item, going for tens if not hundreds of dollars on the book market; but just last year Meerkat Press fulfilled every broke horror fan's dream and released a brand-new paperback edition of it, which I'm so buying next year. Until then, Extremities will be my first book of hers I'm actually going to dive into - the reviews on the back cover liken it to Poe and Calvino, two authors I love, so I think we're in good hands here.

Apologies for the quiet on the blog lately, I'm especially sour about not doing a Halloween-themed post like I said I would, but I do have something very cool planned to finish this year with a bang, so keep your eyes peeled in the next few weeks for new posts. Cheers!

Oculus Reviews: Magical murder mystery? Yes please!

Welcome back to Oculus Reviews, everyone.

You know, I perfectly understand why, given the social climate of today, some people are uncomfortable with reading or watching stories about heroic cops. I'm not gonna go deeper into it because this is a fun genre fiction blog, and I'd like to keep it that way. But we all know that regardless of the country, real-life police work isn't like the idealized version you can see in detective shows, and the gazillion crime fiction books where tough, relentless peacekeepers with a heart pursue justice no matter what it costs them. Still, I grew up with exactly this kind of literature and TV, and while I acknowledge the reality of the world we live in, the "tough, relentless peacekeeper" archetype still is my guilty pleasure I sometimes indulge in. And if there's anything I love no matter the context, it's fantasy and murder mysteries. Put these three things together, and you get the book of my dreams...

Okay, maybe not.

 

Before we dive into Simon R. Green's first book of the Hawk & Fisher series, can I just say how much I love this cover of my well-loved copy - gritty, atmospheric, showing the reader just what kind of no-nonsense badasses the leads are. I especially love the boobtacular outfit on Fisher - lady hero or not, it was still the 90's when this book came out. My respect to Luis Royo (credited in the book as Royo) for this fantastic work.

Haven is a dark city. The home to wizards, politicians, struggling poor people, prostitution rackets, murder and all sorts of not-so-benevolent mystical creatures, it's a place of sleaze, slime and dark magic. Captain Hawk and his wife and partner, Captain Fisher, are the city Guard's best-known and most feared peacekeeping couple; they patrol the streets with an axe and a sword at their sides, keeping the folk safe from criminals of the mundane and the supernatural kind. (They kind of suck at it, but they try. You'll see.) After getting rid of a hungry vampire terrorising the streets, they get assigned to bodyguard duty to a party thrown at a powerful wizard's house, babysitting a politician widely hated for being honest and dedicated to social reform. Alas, the politician gets murdered in his bedroom while Hawk and Fisher are downstairs taking a rest (told ya), and because Hawk wisely decides to seal off Wizard Gaunt's house with an isolation spell while the killer is still inside (double told ya), it's up to him and Fisher to find who did in William Blackstone, and stop them before they strike again. (No luck there.)

As I said, I know perfectly well that this is an idealized cop story, and boy howdy did I wince sometimes when it got especially blatant, such as when Hawk states that not cooperating with the police- I mean, Guard is grounds for arrest. And as for one of the characters stating that he wanted to protect one of the suspects/witnesses because Hawk and Fisher have a reputation for violence... Oh, man, I ain't touching that one with a ten-foot spork. Yes, Hawk & Fisher is very much a product of its time, and I understand why that would put some off from reading it; but I for one don't regret that I did. I mean, it's true enough that it's not exactly a lost classic. The characters (honest politician, less honest politician, shy witch, Conan the Barbarian-type swordfighting hero, snotty aristocrats with a grudge against Hawk and Fisher, and so on) are just about two-dimensional, and that, sadly, does include the leads, who are basically Tough Cop and Tough Cop But Girl. Still, I found myself quite liking these two by the time the book wrapped up: as flat as they are, they have some good banter and chemistry, and I could genuinely believe that these are married people who are very fond of each other. I realize that's kind of a low bar to clear, but I'm sick of troubled and bickering married people in my reading, so it's always refreshing to see a genuinely affectionate couple.

 

As for the mystery and the general plot, it's... so-so. Hawk and Fisher make some truly unjustifiably stupid decisions: see above for locking up a houseful of guests with a murderer, or letting the guy they were supposed to guard out of their sight long enough for him to get murdered. Even if they repeatedly say that Gaunt's house is very heavily protected, one would think that the best cops- I mean, Guards of the city would know better. And if these are the best Guards the city of Haven can offer, I... kind of understand why it's in such a state. There are also two big plot twists, one of which is telegraphed from so far away you could spot it from the Moon without a telescope; but the actual, final twist and the identity of Blackstone's killer is genuinely well-built up, foreshadowed and explained, and fits in with the fantasy setting perfectly. Bravo, Mr. Green.

Still, what left me with a bit of a frown after reading was the ending of the book itself. I'm going to dip into a bit of a spoiler here to discuss; not gonna reveal the identity of the killer, don't worry, but I'm gonna drop a hint, so head to the next paragraph if you want to experience this book entirely for yourself. Basically, the message of the final twist seems to be that no matter how hard you try to be good, being born into a bad family means that you yourself will succumb to evil sooner or later, because there's no escaping the bad tendencies and leanings inherited from your forebears. Now, I know perfectly well that upbringing, transgenerational patterns and hereditary traits (guess who's a freshly minted psych student) are very important to a person's development and identity; but still, to think that you're entirely determined by them leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I like to believe that we humans are better, more complex, and have more free will than that.

 

So yeah, as a whole, the themes of this book are rather... uncomfortable for me. (Trigger warning: if you're sensitive to child abuse, there's also that, and not briefly either.) And I'm very sorry about that, because as a fantasy-crime novel it's a perfectly adequate read: quick, airy, not too deep, but still entertaining and absorbing enough to make me finish in one go without groaning aloud once. (Internal groaning, though...) I spent a fun, if not very mentally taxing evening with it - I guess it's up to you whether that sounds like a recommendation.

Writing: Kind of dry and flawed sometimes (I caught a few word repetitions a more thorough editor would have probably vetoed), but quick enough and easy to follow, without cruelty to the English language. I know that's faint praise, but I've read worse. Much worse. 3/5

Availability: No ebook of this, I'm afraid, but used copies can be found for under ten dollars if you know where to look, and there's an audiobook too if you wish to liven up your morning commute. 4/5

Entertainment value: Fun enough if you're into this kind of storytelling, but definitely not one of the more brilliant books I've read. Still, I'd be up for reading more of this series because I do like our main couple. 3/5

Do I recommend it?: I... guess I do? The premise of a fantasy crime novel is certainly original enough, and it makes for a light and entertaining read even if it's a bit of a groaner sometimes; but I don't feel like anyone would be missing out on a life-changing reading experience if they decided to skip this one. 3/5

Oculus Reviews: Bats in the moonlight, oh my

Welcome, folks, to Oculus Reviews.

Busy, busy, busy, but that doesn't mean I don't read! In the past few weeks I've gone through several good and some not-so-good books, from horror novels to literary fiction and even chick lit (look, I'm not immune to stories about little quaint village bakeries). I've read morality tales (blargh), kitschy beach reads (double blargh) and some absolute gems like The Haunting of Hill House (if you haven't read it yet, you owe it to yourself to correct that ASAP). If I had to choose a best book of the year, I'd be very hard-pressed. But as for most fun read so far? Oh, yeah, I know which one I'd pick.

The price sticker I didn't have the heart to take off this book informs me that someone, at some point, has owned it for precisely one dollar, and for the life of me I can't tell if they paid too much or not enough for it. It's that kind of book.

Chris Blaze is an undercover detective in Miami. He's also blond, blue-eyed, works out regularly, and he's so handsome that he's making the bad guys look even uglier, as the book kindly informs us in his very first scene. Where he's busting a cult trying to sacrifice a virgin on Walpurgis night, because of course. The cult, by the way, is led by a man named Batiste Legendre (I'm not kidding) and worships a god of hate named Hadifes, as we find out precisely in the first three paragraphs. To paraphrase a friend from my writing group, one page in I knew I had a goddamn treasure in my hand.

So, Chris busts the evil cult with a classic "Freeze, Legendre, or I'll blow your fucking head off!" line, letting us know that he's a Tuff Cop Man right off the bat. Alas, the bust goes awry, and while the cult is subdued, Legendre curses Chris with immortality, doomed to walk the night as a vampire; as Chris soon discovers when another undercover bust gets outed and he's pumped full of lead, gets back up, and proceeds to go through a roomful of bad guys like papier-mache. It's kind of awesome. However, Chris is soon forced into the night shift by his acute sunlight allergy, where he's paired up with a smart-talking black cop named Reggie who regularly hoses down the pages with quips and wisecracks, because of course. He also romances a cute night-shift doctor named Sue with a domineering fiance, who he falls in love with pretty much at first sight, because of course. And then he gets assigned to some mysterious killings happening at night, and the killer's identity is something I'd rather not spoi... Oh, fuck it, he's a vampire named Yosekaat Rakz (still not kidding, guys) and he inspired Dracula's legend, because of course. [EDIT: I just remembered that he's actually a descendant of the guy who was the inspiration for Dracula, but still. I also remembered that according to this book Bram Stoker was Van Helsing himself, only no one wanted to buy his memoir, so he released it as fiction under a pen name. Which... wow. I wonder if the biographers knew that. /s] And now it's up to Chris, his cute girlfriend and smart black sidekick to stop him, because of course.

Oh, man, I'm giddy just talking about this book - I swear, this puppy has to have been one of the most entertaining trashsploshions I've ever read. One-dimensional characters, Darwin Award-winning plot points, wooden dialogue, tired racism (the racists are actually pointed out to be racist, but I hope you can stomach the n-word) and tin-eared descriptions litter the pages, and yet the whole thing has so much going for it. There's this manic, deadly serious trashy energy to Vampire Beat which makes it a quick, compulsive read, miles above groaners we've seen here like The Terrified Heart. The book has a whole lot of gory killing, but also holy water, staking, giant rats, turning into bats (!) and even a zombie (!!!), plenty of fun nastiness for everyone who likes to dip into the less sophisticated side of horror every now and then. And while these heroes have to be some of the dumbest I've ever seen, there are a few mildly (mildly) clever bits like the aforementioned zombie episode, which I found myself smiling at, and the finale was honest-to-god exciting to read. Above all I abhor dullness in my horror literature, and while my keyboard would probably crack in two if I called this book good, I certainly can't call it dull. The bad guys are all entertainingly nasty, and the fact that they appear to have been written by a middle schooler (seriously, Yosekaat Rakz? With a name like that, he must be from the mystical region of Fictionalia) just ups the fun factor of the whole thing. And if you think the fact that the writing is bad means that the writing is bad, take a gander at magnificent quotes like...

Drago had a face only a mother could love, and even then she would have to be blind.

...and...

A snooty-looking bitch came out of the little girl's room with her nose up in the air. She looked good and knew it. Everyone she passed smiled at her. She could see them out of the corner of her eye. Too bad she couldn't also see the trail of toilet paper she was dragging behind her.

I'll let you be the judge. Thank you, Vincent Courtney, for blessing my Halloween season with one of the dumbest books I've ever read.

Writing: Trying to rate the writing style of this book is like trying to rate an exploding garbage can that's somehow also on fire. It stinks, but it makes for excellent entertainment. 3/5

Availability: While this book is pretty obscure as far as vintage horror literature goes, copies of it aren't that hard to find and go for relatively cheap. 3/5

Entertainment value: Through the roof, baby. 5/5

Do I recommend it?: Oh, man, I can't recommend this book enough - but at the same time, if you've gotten this far in this review, you probably already know if it's your kind of story or not. Vampire Beat is for serious trash enthusiasts and vampire fanatics only, those who like their horror fun, nasty, not too smart, and with enough ham and cheese to feed a small country. 3/5

Oculus Presents: Merry Book Haul, and a friend

Welcome, folks, to the biggest book haul this blog has ever seen.

I don't normally go on book-shopping sprees, but every now and then I feel like I'm allowed to splurge a little - and sometimes books I ordered separately all arrive at the same time and bury me with a very welcome avalanche. This time, I got five books within a week of each other! I've been very excited to get to these babies for different reasons, and they look quite nice on the Shelf, too. Four out of five I've ordered from Better World Books, which I very much recommend for you folks to check out - they have an excellent horror and genre fiction selection, offer free shipping on many titles, and they do a lot of good work with nonprofits and donated books with the money they get from book purchases, so you're doing something good while scoring great finds for your own shelf. Win-win scenario!

The fifth book is from my trusty Thriftbooks - a pricier venture shipping-wise, but one whose selection has never disappointed me. And as to what those books are? Well...

First of all, the greats - King and Matheson. I really dig the cover of Thinner, although the premise of the book is a little... uh... we'll burn that bridge when we get to it. I Am Legend, on the other hand, is a book I've been looking forward to for a while. I find both the shouting Will Smith sticker and the praise from Dean Koontz, hackmaster extraordinaire, a little comical; but the rest of the cover is very atmospheric, and I've heard nothing but good about the book itself. We shall see whether it holds up to that praise, but I've read from Matheson before and I trust his writing a whole lot.

Next is this great little find: a YA horror from the 80's, and one with the true rarity of having gay characters, even in the main cast if my memory doesn't fail me. I have mixed feelings about the YA phenomenon, but I've read a lot of great YA books - some even in the horror and thriller genre, and they were delightful -, and between the premise of YA horror, the gay characters and this awesome cover, The Lake is a book I'm very eager to check out.

Poppy Z. Brite is one of those slightly lesser-known (to non-horror lit fans anyway) authors who were the powerhouses of horror publishing in the 1990's, known for being fresh, daring and original; and he in particular was known for featuring queer people and outcasts in a genre heavily dominated by straight white men as protagonists. That alone would win my undying respect, but then he also came out as trans - nowadays he goes by Billy Martin, although he still uses Poppy Z. Brite, his pre-transition pen name, professionally. (Correct me if I'm wrong.) And since I'm always up for reading more from minority authors, especially in horror, I've been glad to find this much-praised short story collection, from the famed Dell/Abyss line, at a pretty good price. I've only ever read one short story by Brite before, but unlike Clive Barker's writing (Hellbound Heart, the novella Hellraiser is based on, is an awkward book to say the least), I really liked what I'd seen of him so far.

And finally, this well-loved, but still wonderful copy of Borderlands, a boundary-pushing horror anthology from genre greats like Harlan Ellison and Joe R. Lansdale, with one hell of a cover. Fantastic work by Dave McKean (the title is on the black part, but it's done in transparent reflective foil, so it's only visible in a certain lighting). As for whether the stories inside are just as great... well, other horror blogs tell me a very resounding YES.

Thus concludes the book haul - I have two more on the way, and then the book-shopping shall stop for a while; both because I have enough stuff to read for a year, and because the Shelf is getting rather full. (But worry not, gentle reader! I have a bigger bookshelf on my other wall.) As for the friend I mentioned...

Yorick?

 

I've been organizing my bookshelf for the umpteenth time, and I relocated my Tolkien collection (why yes, I am a giant nerd, why do you ask?) to a more visible spot; and then I couldn't resist adding an extra touch of fantasy with this wizard figurine I bought from an antiques fair. Someone get me a Boromir figurine or a dragon to go with it, and my bliss shall be complete.

Oculus Reviews: Thanks a lot, Horace Walpole

Welcome, folks, to Oculus Reviews.

 

Why, oh why do I keep catching the crap of the crop when it comes to 70's Gothic novels?! I've gotta stop picking up little-known stuff with pretty covers and good taglines, because it turns out that a lot of obscure books are obscure for a reason. I mean, as far as bad books go, the one I'm discussing today wasn't nearly as yeet-your-brain irritating as Nella Waits, but it also didn't have much else going for it, other than some absolutely hilaribad prose every now and then. And that isn't nearly enough to carry a book... even a 192-page one.

Let's dive in, shall we?

In The Terrified Heart, a 1973 novel by Alicia Grace (actually the pseudonym of one Irving Greenfield, as you will soon be painfully aware), Danielle Marsh is a 24 year-old university professor of ancient Greek with a PhD and two years of teaching experience, and okay, I need to call a time-out because what. Either she skipped a grade, or the author skipped a number on the keyboard when he wrote this - and trust me, you're only getting a taste of the level of magnificent realism and thorough editing this book stands at (other gems include Danielle hoping for a "ddcent" relationship, and one character having a master's "certicate" in... sailing, sure). Anyway, she one day respons to a newspaper ad with a job offer by one Keith Wyler, a wealthy, brilliant translator haunted by the murder of his wife that he was accused of. He wants Danielle to work as his assistant at translating an ancient manucript; the catch? She has to go with him to his family mansion, posing as his wife, because insert incredibly flimsy bullshit excuse about family traditions and marriage that even a baby squirrel would see through, but which fools Danielle instantly. The real reason he wants her is to lure out the murderer of his dead wife by turning up with a new one, which is supposed to... Hell if I know. What a chessmaster.

 

So off the zeroes go to Eleusis, the Wyler estate... after several days spent with very essential things like clothes shopping, and awkwardly wrestling with the author insisting they're madly in lust with each other, despite having less spark than a firefighter convention. And they reach the mansion after page... 118. Out of 192. God give me patience.

To tell you folks what happens at Eleusis would be a spoiler (not that anyone would mind, I think, since about two people and a shoelace must be planning to read this), but this book is, holy moly macaroni, where do I even begin. It's not terrible, mind you - but it's so achingly mediocre that spending even the five or so hours reading it are five hours from my life I will never get back. The plot is basically nonexistent until past the middle of the book, after which point plot revelations randomly happen or are just plain told to the characters, to wrap things up in time for a slapped-together finale that made me facepalm. The characters - the ingenue heroine, Diet Mr. Rochester, his evil, unfaithful murdered wife, crazy aunt, hateful disabled brother and sweet old family friend/surrogate father figure - are papier-mache, the descriptions are dry, dull and full of telling, not showing. (And like I said, I was painfully aware that this book was written by a man at each of the gazillion descriptions of the heroine's naked or near-naked body, and especially at the scene where she's taking a bath and takes the time to describe the way her breasts float in the water. Ladies, if your boobs do that, please see a doctor. Or an exorcist.) Also, every now and then the author commits acts of violence against the English language for no reason, like Danielle "obediently" shaking her head to accept a job offer, or Aunt Elizabeth having a "corking-like voice", whatever the hell that means - does she sound like a champagne bottle being popped? But my absolute favorites have to be Danielle comparing unrequited love to a seed planted in shallow soil four pages in (ease up, Emily Brontë, you're in 1973, not 1873), or her landlady expressing her disapproval of Keith's job offer thusly:

"Young people today are not only willing to play in the frying pan, but they must also jump into the fire."

 

What has that poor idiom ever done to you?!

Despite the... everything, I can't say I wasn't the least bit entertained while reading this book. There's a certain dollar-store trashy charm to how ineptly written it is, and since it was so short, it didn't torture me with said ineptitude until I lost my patience, like the other Gothic novel I slam-dunked into the metaphorical trash... I mean, reviewed on this blog. But this is faint praise indeed. I can't in good faith recommend it because there are both much, much better and much more entertainingly bad books for y'all to pass the time with, but... but... at least the cover is pretty?

Yeah, I've got nothin'. Don't read this book.

Writing: Corking-like voice. I rest my case. 1/5

Availability: I have found precisely one copy of it for sale on my usual book sites, although it only goes for a few dollars, plus shipping - make of that what you will. You might luck into another copy in a used bookstore like I did, but don't hold your breath. 2/5

Entertainment value: I'll admit that the hilaribad writing got the occasional chuckle out of me, and I did have a good time riffing the hell out of the plot with my writer friends, but without them it would have been a deadly dull experience. 2/5

Do I recommend it?: Do I look like I recommend it? 1/5

(I know, I know, don't explain the joke, but I've gotta - Horace Walpole was an architect and the author of The Castle of Otranto, usually considered the first work of Gothic fiction in the English literary canon. Thanks a lot for Nella Waits and The Terrified Heart, Horace.)

Oculus Presents: Latest finds for the Shelf

Heya, folks, this is Oculus Presents.

Been a bit busy these past few weeks with work, writing and suchlike, but that doesn't mean I stopped buying books or reading (these days I'm mostly doing literary fiction, that's why the blog has been a little quiet on the review front). As usual, I scour the used bookshops for anything neat I can find, and I've ordered a few... interesting things online as well, so the Shelf is quite teeming with life. I've managed to score an excellent vintage copy of To Kill a Mockingbird and a biography of Franz Liszt among others, but let me show you the ones relevant to my genre collection...

My earliest find, from last month, is this copy of Savage by Richard Laymon - a western novel about a young boy pursuing Jack the Ripper into the American Wild West. The premise sounds neat enough, and Laymon fans are eating up the book, but I haven't heard super mega great things about his writing skills from people whose tastes I trust, and the first chapter had a teenage boy in Victorian London calling people "tough hombres", which, er, yeah. I have a feeling that this is going to be an experience.

Something I'm already quite fond of, though, is this story collection by the awesome C. L. Moore. Catherine L. Moore was one of the pioneers of female speculative fiction writing in the pulp era of the 30's and 40's (although she didn't retire from writing until the early 60's). There had been other female specfic writers at the time, of course, but she had been probably the most iconic. This is a collection of her short stories with the rugged space adventurer, Northwest Smith, as the hero - including the first Northwest Smith story ever, Shambleau, which is one of my favorite short stories. She also wrote Jirel of Joiry, one of the earliest female sword-and-sorcery heroines, and let me just say, I'm dying to get my hands on a copy of that collection. I'm going to do a Moore-stravaganza on this blog where I review this collection and discuss Shambleau in more detail, but until then - let us admire this fantastic cover.

And finally, one of my favorite used book finds: this reprint of an iconic, much-respected collection of short vampire fiction, edited by the late Alan Ryan (who I'm quite fond of, if you recall from my review of Cast a Cold Eye). Dunno who the hell okayed this lackluster cover and the weird font choice (the original cover art, done by Edward Gorey, fit the book's themes so much more); but the collection has stories from Bram Stoker, August Derleth, Stephen King, Richard Matheson, C. L. Moore again and other genre greats, and I've heard that Alan Ryan was an editor of great taste in short fiction, so I'm very much looking forward to diving in. Not this year, alas (I have 25 books to read until the end of the year for various reading challenges I signed up for, pray for me - I swear it's fun though, or I wouldn't be doing it), but chipping away at this book, one short story at a time, sounds like the perfect entertainment for the upcoming chilly winter months.

Well, folks, that's it for today - I'll be returning soon with a few reviews, gods willing (two of the books I'm planning to read until December are Hawk & Fisher and Vampire Beat from the Shelf, and I'll try to fit in The Lure as well); and hopefully I can do something interesting to celebrate Halloween with, I'll figure out what. Until then, have a very spooky October, everyone.

Oculus Presents: This 'Exorcist' cover is metal as hell

I mean, seriously. Look at it! It's more like something you'd expect from a Books of Blood cover than Blatty, but the design is absolutely fantastic. The work of one Dan Alexandru Ionescu, this is the cover of the first of the two Romanian editions of The Exorcist, from the publishing house Nemira. This edition appeared in 1994 as part of Nemira's horror collection, translated by Vasile Stoica. I usually try to avoid reading translated works if I can read them in the original, but I'm also trying to read more in Romanian, and I just couldn't resist this epic cover when I saw it. Whether the contents will hold up to my fond (if a little squicked) memories of this book and the movie adaptation remain to be seen, though.