By CHET WILLIAMSON (Tor; 1987)

Remember Chet Williamson?  Back in the late eighties/early nineties he was one of the most dependable horror scribes on the scene, turning out a number of highly individual novels, including SOULSTORM, LOWLAND RIDER, McCAIN’S DILEMMA and REIGN.  There was also ASH WEDNESDAY, the author’s second and in many ways most interesting 1980s effort. 

It’s a strange and eerie tale set in Merridale, PA, a sleepy town besieged by the spirits of everyone who ever died there—and by spirits I mean see-through images of deceased people frozen in the exact spot they breathed their last, and in the precise manner they expired.  No explanation is ever given for this occurrence, and nor (a minor spoiler warning here) do the spirits ever do anything proactive.

Williamson concern is with Merridale’s still-living residents, and how they react to this intrusion in their collective reality.  Quickly realizing the ghosts don’t appear to be going anywhere, several attempts are made to block the things—which, quite simply, don’t work.  Ultimately some folks learn to deal while others go crazy. 

Among the former is Jim, a former bus driver who years earlier killed several children in an accident, including his own daughter.  Seeing her sprit helps to release him from the guilt he feels.  For the tormented Vietnam vet Bradley Meyers, however, there’s no such absolution to be had; confronted with the suddenly ever-present reality of death, he becomes increasingly unhinged.  Having also lost a child in the deadly bus accident, Brad makes Jim the focus of his anger.

The presence of the spirits also has the effect of reopening old wounds.  More killings are imminent, meaning more spirits are set to appear.  The conclusion, for its part, is about as dark as you can imagine, offering little in way of comfort or absolution. 

In direct contrast to many of his contemporary horror scribes, Williamson has attempted to use horror to deal seriously with real life issues of guilt and mortality, and tell a story that hasn’t been told before.  ASH WEDNESDAY, in short, is virtually everything a real horror novel should be: endlessly provocative, disquieting and compelling. 

The book is also, I’m sorry to say, overlong and unfocused, with a riot of distracting flashbacks and viewpoint changes, not to mention an overly loose, unstructured narrative.  It’s clear that Williamson had some great ideas, but I wish he’d made a greater effort to maintain focus.