This self-described Cthulhu Western is a very traditional western hammered into a very traditional Cthulhu mythos mold to make something uniquely fun. The writer wears his tastes on his sleeve, writing a western based deeply in the Hollywood 1950s movie tradition: famous gunslingers, nefarious train companies running honest farmers off their land, and deadly natives. Add to that Deep Ones, Cthulhu magic, and seemingly deathless villains, and you get quite an adventure.
This does mean, of course, that many of the more nuanced views that have started to shape the American view of the west, particularly recognition of the terrible treatment of Native Americans and Black people, are absent. The Native Americans in this story are enemies, if ones on perhaps more equal terms with the protagonists than was common in the old western tradition, and the only black characters are nameless servants.
One rather interesting element is the addition of the Japanese character Shinobi, and the recurring equation of his Japanese-ness with the Native Americans by malevolent white characters–it adds a wrinkle to the treatment of race in this one that is worth thinking about.
Overall, there is little original ground tread here, but the author makes no bones about it: This is a product of his love of old western movies, and his interest in Lovecraft’s malevolent world building. If you go into it looking for that, you won’t be disappointed.
Guy Gavriel Kay might write the must fundamentally human fantasy there is. His stories are steeped in all the love, loss, ambition, and confusion that fills even the most mundane life, yet writ large on lives that echo through the history of this faux-Europe he draws with such deft strokes.
Lord of Emperors finishes the Sarantine Mosaic duology with all the inevitability of history, with triumph and defeat and pain and joy. It is not an easy end, nor one without tears, but it is a grand ending and one I could not stop reading.
One of the most compelling parts of any Kay book, and this one is no different, is how he cuts to the heart of those who do extraordinary things to find why and how they can accomplish such. The genius racer, the great artist, the emperor: all are still simply human, mortal and fallible, but some part of them transcends those limits, and this is what Kay so deftly examines.
In Lord of Emperors, we are shown the kind of will and drive that allows a man, a racer, to ignore near mortal injury and even his own chance at winning to create a perfect race for his team. The artist, Crispin, faced with a loss nearly as great as when plague took his family from him, can do nothing but what he has done, and creates. The emperor… Well, I will not spoil that.
Every book of Kay’s I reads becomes another favorite. This is no exception.
I went into this book blind. I did not know who the author was, or when the book was written, only that the cover looked interesting and it was in one of my favorite genres (the horror anthology). I am very glad that I did, because it was like some kind of mirror into my own reading history.
In the afterword, there is a quote from Stephen King that calls Brennan “one of the most effective writers in the horror genre” and I have to agree. Not because of the actual chills in the stories (honestly, I didn’t find that many) but because of the obvious influence he had on the genre, particularly Stephen King himself.
Reading the book, unaware of the history behind it, I felt myself thinking “This would have been perfect for Weird Tales.” more than once. I was, of course, 100% right. Brennan wrote hundreds of stories for that classic magazine. I also found myself thinking, “This guy loved him some Stephen King.” It turns out I had it backwards!
These stories are nothing all that unique to the experienced reader of horror, and the “twists” in them are not twists at all, today. But this is because Brennan literally created many of them.
Of the stories in this collection, I found I liked The Pavillion best. A story of murder, guilt, and revenge(?) from beyond the grave, I found myself imagining it shot for shot in some early 80s horror anthology movie (Creepshow, of course).
Disappearance is another proto-King story. Indeed, I can see direct influences of several King stories here–the taciturn farmer with a secret, the missing family member, the grisly discovery. They all seem buried deep in our horror conscience now, thanks to stories like this.
As horror, honestly, there probably isn’t much here for the modern fan, but as a glimpse into the roots of the genre this is a very interesting (and still quite fun!) read.
I’d like to thank the publisher for the review copy!
Machen is a titan of the weird fiction genre, and this is one of his less famous works. It’s an episodic story, the result of serialization, with the framing work of two friends in London with differing views on mystery and spirituality getting wrapped up in a strange web of lies and stories involving magic, lurkers in the wild, and other staples of the old weird.
This is a perfectly diverting book, full of creepiness and period frumpery that was perfectly worth the time reading it. And since it’s free on Project Gutenberg, anyone with the slightest urge can give it a try.
In this fantasy, a vaguely East Asian-based society is rules by people who can use a natural force called “madra” to fight, create, and manipulate the works arrive them. Everyone is tested for their affinity to one of the various paths of usage and are assigned a future: except the Unsouled, who show no affinity and this are only objects of shame and pity.
Wei Shin Lindo is one such, but he honers to break out of this rigid system and show that he is every bit as capable as his peers.
What occurs carries Lindo far beyond anything he found have imagined, with the fate of worlds moving around him.
This is a great, fun adventure reminiscent of Avatar, the Last Airbender. The practice is great, the characters fun and the working is interesting without being overwhelming in detail.
It’s definitely a pleasure to see Lindo use his wits to overcome his weaknesses, although I can see a definite Dragon Ball Z possibility of endless power creep if the writer isn’t careful.
But I hated to put the story down and I looked pretty much every choice made. What a fun read!
For merchant banker Sailor Kelstern, money is everything. He’s a walking embodiment of the Month Python Money Song. He has had a minor business setback with a very powerful Lord, which means his reputation is down but not out, but business goes on. And then a new client appears, asking him to manage the accounts of a very, very wealthy patron in the transition from hard currency to fiat based economy. The client, as you might have guessed from the title, really REALLY likes gold, and is not at all happy about this new paper money.
This book was a hoot. Seriously, it was so much fun. It was refreshing to see a decent protagonist who didn’t use a bit of force, just cleverness and skill, to get through truly difficult situations.
The main character was built perfectly. His motivations, actions, and values all clicked just right to create someone unique, but relatable at the same time. The pacing of the story never lets up (it might actually have been better sometimes if it did) and the plentiful turns paid off well.
The writing was fluid and clever without falling into the trap of “witty banter,” and the editing was very solid. This book showed a lot of care and thought, and I really appreciate the author sending me a review copy.
There aren’t many economic heroes out there (Discworld’s Moist von Lipwig and Cithrin from the Dagger and Coin books are all that spring to mind) but I’m of the growing opinion that we could use a lot more!
This is a collection of stories in a “Lovecraftian” vein, and all are connected to the sea/water in some way.
Overall, the collection is quite fun. It bounces between exciting novelty, and a somewhat telling repetition of ideas and even sentences. The whole seems to create an almost original branch of the mythos that is all Meikle’s, particularly the influence of music and rhythm on the mind and the “others.”
Some of my particular favorites among these stories are perhaps “Inquisitor,” pitting a shoggoth against a member of the Spanish Inquisition (bet you weren’t expecting that!); and the title story, in which whalers are faced with something horrific from the depths. They both take some basic familiar ideas and use them in novel ways to create something very interesting.
The book does have some minor little editing issues (one story had a bunch of commas replaced by the 3/4 symbol. What?) but is generally very well done and quite readable.
Definitely worth a read for horror and Lovecraft fans.