Book snobs generally equate horror with pornography, as the absolute dredge of all genres. Peter Straub strongly disagrees, arguing that the field can be just as literary as the rest. Look at Edgar Allan Poe, for instance, who’s taught in classrooms nationwide! And then look at POE’S CHILDREN: THE NEW HORROR, a collection of literary terror tales serving as proof that Straub’s theory is no theory at all, but an absolute truth.
Containing 25 previously published stories, the book is likely to have something you’ve read before. For me, that included a story from Stephen King’s SKELETON CREW, Joe Hill’s 20TH CENTURY GHOSTS and Neil Gaiman’s FRAGILE THINGS, plus Dan Chaon’s ever-haunting “The Bees.” And then there’s Elizabeth Hand’s “Cleopatra Brimstone” …
Something about it struck me as familiar a few pages into the narrative, about a butterfly-obsessed college student who agrees to housesit a flat in London, figuring the change of scenery will do her good after being raped. The understandably shy, bookwormish girl begins to come out of her shell in these new surroundings, leading to events that will catch you off-guard.
Flipping to the copyright page, I learned I had read it several years before in Al Sarrantonio’s excellent speculative-fiction anthology REDSHIFT. But since I couldn’t remember how it ended, I delighted in re-reading every letter of it. At 50 pages, it’s one of the longer pieces in the book, and one of the most disturbing … and rewarding. POE’S CHILDREN is worth picking up for this story alone, if nothing else.
But lucky for you, there’s plenty more to be enjoyed, starting with married couple Steve Rasnic Tem and Melanie Tem tag-teaming a tale about her seeing things creep into their home, in “The Man on the Ceiling.” It reminded me of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s classic story “The Yellow Wallpaper,” only with the husband’s point of view inserted in alternating bits.
M. John Harrison’s “The Great God Pan” is not to be confused with Arthur Machen’s novella, but one can be forgiven for viewing Brian Evenson’s “Body” as a FRANKENSTEIN update, this time with a prisoner being made the unwitting monster in a gruesome experiment.
With its two female leads (or is it one?) both being named Louise, Kelly Link’s “Louise’s Ghost” is a little confusing, but there’s no denying that Link is a real original. However, I think M. Rickert goes one better in “Leda,” in which a wife is raped by a swan, to her husband’s utter disbelief … until his wife lays an egg. This is one I won’t soon be forgetting.
Thomas Ligotti gets all meta on us in “Notes on the Writing of Horror: A Story,” which is at once an essay, a story and a story within a story … um, within an essay. Make sense? That’s part of the point, and I’ve certainly not read anything quite like it.
“Unearthed”by Ben Percy examines the strained relationship of a father and son, following the mother’s suicide, and the Indian corpse that dear ol’ Dad digs up. In “Insect Dreams,” Rosalind Palermo Stevenson dishes out enough unsettling images — ants stripping a pig of its flesh, a spider attacking a bird — that by the time the protagonist’s hand swells to twice its size after palming a prickly caterpillar, you’ll be ready to carry Raid at your side at all times.
There’s one story in POE’S CHILDREN that doesn’t fit: Ellen Klages’ “The Green Glass Sea.” That’s no slight against its quality, because it’s great. But it’s just about a family examining the glass-like pieces created by the Los Alamos blast test — there’s no horror in it. However, I still welcome its inclusion.
This anthology is smarter than most, and Straub is a name you can trust at picking the best from amid an ever-evolving genre that deserves more recognition. This book is a large step to that end. —Rod Lott
Related posts:
- The Horror in the Museum
- Horror: Another 100 Best Books
- The Best Horror from Fantasy Tales
- Children of Chaos
- 999: Twenty-Nine Original Tales of Horror and Suspense
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Sounds like an excellent collection. Maybe Straub unearthed the scepter left behind when Karl Edward Wagner died … Horror Editor for annual anthologies.
Horror certainly can make palpable literature.
“Book snobs generally equate horror with pornography, as the absolute dredge of all genres.”
Which is absurd since anyone with a gnat’s wit knows that those motherfucking books about writers’ dogs are the lowest of the low.
While much of this anthology is entertaining I was greatly disturbed by Missolonghi in 1824 by Crowley’s cavalier treatment of Byron’s pedophilia and attempts to seduce the boy in the story. This is not a historical document but rather a work of fiction and thus it should not have been treating this vile practice in such a off-hand manner. It is almost as if the author is giving posthumous approval to Byron’s actions by his distinct lack of condemning prose.