BLUE PAGODA
This 1946 novel, one of two A. Merritt novels “completed” by Hannes Bok, has intrigued me for some time
THE BLIND OWL (Book)
“There are sores which slowly erode the mind in solitude like a kind of canker.” That’s the opening sentence of THE BLIND OWL, and it adequately sets the tone for what follows.
THE BLIND GOD IS WATCHING
A good example of the type of freakishness that occasionally emerges from the pen of an otherwise mild-mannered author. The author in question is the prolific fantasy and children’s book scribe Nancy Springer, who here spins an unexpectedly bleak and disquieting account of freaks, mutilation and madness that occupies the same territory as FREAKS and GEEK LOVE.
BLACK HOLE
A stunningly rendered graphic novel that follows an inscrutable path that exists somewhere between DAZED AND CONFUSED and VIDEODROME.
THE BLACK CUPBOARD
THE BLACK CUPBOARD to be a masterpiece of surreal horror, and one of the most fascinating and confounding such publications of the 20th Century.
BIG AS LIFE
A definite oddity in the cannon of the late E.L. Doctorow, who specialized in historical fiction. In BIG AS LIFE, his second novel, Doctorow tried his hand at surreal fantasy, relating the highly speculative account of two giant humanoid figures who one day appear suspended in the sky over the New York Harbor, throwing the city into chaos.
BEARWALK
This little-known Canadian relic offers a novel take on the oft-used concept of an ancient Indian curse wreaking havoc on the lives of a modern couple: it’s actually populated by Indian–or, this being a Canadian publication, First Nations–people.
ANTHONY SHRIEK
Anyone wondering why Dell’s fabled Abyss horror line, which promised “Horror unlike anything you’ve ever read before,” didn’t last beyond the early nineties need only read this, one of Abyss’ signature entries. ANTHONY SHRIEK isn’t a bad novel, just a severely bloated and self-indulgent one.
ANNIHILATION
The first volume of Jeff Vandermeer’s “Southern Reach” trilogy, and very likely the best of the three
A Less-Than-Admiring Take on the Films of Rafael Corkidi
Here (for once) is a commentary about a director whose work doesn’t particularly excite me: Mexico’s Rafael Corkidi