THE PAINTED DARKNESS is the latest work from author, editor and Cemetery Dance publisher Brian James Freeman. Lovingly written and lovingly packaged, this slim novella (a scant 175 pages) manages to make poignant observations about art, imagination and even love — all while scaring the standing water out of us.
On a cold, snowy morning, a boy named Henry wanders into the woods behind his house. At first, they’re beautiful, with snow-covered tree branches, low-hanging icicles and pristine white hills. But as Henry goes deeper and off the trail, he discovers something shocking, and runs home to hide under his bed in his still-soaking-wet raincoat.
Now, 20 years later, Henry makes a meager living painting works of disturbing monsters and other scenes of horror. Driving his work are two mottos he repeats to himself each time he faces a canvas: “Just start at the beginning and the rest will take care of itself,” and, especially, “I paint against the darkness.” Henry knows these inspirations are somehow related to his past and the fears he witnessed as a child. But he can’t seem to fully recall what happened in the woods all those years ago, and why these fears still remain on the edge of his consciousness.
One morning, while Henry’s family is away, his work in his attic studio is disturbed by his ritual attending to the ancient steam-heat boiler in the cellar. As he descends the stairs to said cellar, a dark presence awaits that will threaten his life while causing him to vividly remember the fears that scarred him in his childhood.
Freeman presents this seemingly simple story in alternating chapters recalling “The Birth of the Artist” and “The Present.” Through both, we follow Henry as a boy into the woods and discover those events that would so influence his work, and then Henry as an adult, down in the cellar and the demon he confronts. The action in each of the two sections almost parallel each other as the tension mounts and the horrors reveal themselves.
The fears Freeman marshals here are both familiar and primal — a deep woods and a dark cellar — but his inviting prose and inventive imagery bring fresh perspectives to them, while propelling us as each section progresses. We also get a glimpse at how such fears influence the evasive concept of artistic inspiration and creation. And this then leads into the inevitable question of whether Henry’s art — his painting “against the darkness” — keeps his demons buried or slowly invites them into his life.
Jill Bauman’s wonderfully haunting and effective grayscale illustrations and Brian Keene’s introduction (reigniting the debate of art vs. entertainment) contribute to this being one of the more satisfying and fulfilling horror stories you’re likely to read this year. —Alan Cranis
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- Darkness on the Edge of Town
- Slipping into Darkness
- Marvel Zombies vs. Army of Darkness
- The Wheel of Darkness
- When Darkness Falls
