After the
authentic smell of coal-dust and the pulsing feel of blood shed
pervading early Victorian Grand Guignol and penny dreadfuls in
Egaeus Press's Murder Ballads, Howard returns us to his
post-war European territory of metaphysical maps, submerged memories
and echoes percolating from the past; topics at which he has
established himself as something of a master.
With
this in mind, I do hope he might one day embark upon a novel. Over
the past five years in particular, he has proven to his readership
that he patently has the product knowledge to enlarge upon his
well-researched secret histories. Several of his characterisations
would thus benefit with the consequent fleshing-out; adding to the
evidence that there is more to the uncanny than the long trodden
tropes of horror. It is a pity that many of our generation appear so
reluctant; so, for the rest of us, a loss.
Buried
Shadows features ten tales on
one of Howard's pet themes; the objectification of city-scapes and
their effect upon a protagonist's psyche. Five of the ten
showcase Howard at his best. In 'To The Anhalt Station,' a Berlin
train station, demolished post-war, has a submerged afterlife between
what had been East and West Germany.
In 'Mr.
S and Dr. S,' a journalist arrives in Portugal to interview the
country's military President; a man he is surprised to find seemingly
enjoys a second life away from the stresses of his duties. But is
this really the same man, an unwitting double or a pre-arranged
imposter? Uncertain, the journalist knows he must tread very
carefully. In
'Least Light, Most Night,' Mr. Bentley invites fellow office worker
Mr. Thomas around to his home in a part of London unfamiliar to the
latter. On arrival, Mr. Thomas finds the flat cold and in receipt of
equally cold drinks and edibles. This coldness takes on a subtley
sinister turn when a number of additional guests start to arrive. A
successfully Aickmanesque entry.
The
title tale involves a brilliant vanished architect and the unspoken
motive of one of his longtime admirers. More Ballard-ian in its
clever melding of architectural and psycho-sexual envy. The final,
and longest, tale, 'The Floor Of Heaven,' comprises
stories-within-the story related to the mysterious fate of author,
Stephen Vaughan, and his sole release, 'Lost And Changing London,' as
seen through the eyes of the author himself and various obsessives;
each intent upon the elusive, sought after edition of a street map
that spawned the writing of the original book.
Featuring illustrations based upon the drawings of the architect and
theorist, Balthasar Holz; two of many quotes attributed to this
little known figure being,
'each
thing is growing and decaying at the same time, only at different
rates' and 'a finished building is really unfinished; the first frame
of a descent to destruction.' With the non-linear nature of the
tales, so I belatedly discover Howard's primary points of departure.
* * * *
The
Origins (Excerpt from Cemetery for the Living) by Lima
Barrreto / Monsters by Alfred Jarry / Black Mirror by Leopoldo
Lugones – Three chapbooks from Raphus Press, Sao Paulo
The
greatest service this new independent imprint offers is in its desire
to translate French, Spanish and Portugese authors into English.
Introductory essays by Alcebiades Diniz Miguel, (Raphus founder and
author of the novel, Lanterns
Of The Old Night
(Ex-Occidente, 2016)), link these releases of near-forgotten decadent
and post-decadent era tales, long lost in literary periodicals and
magazines. Released under the umbrella banner The Golden Age of
Clairvoyance, the
first have been rehabilitated in three well designed chapbooks,
augmented by appropriately chosen classical art from public domain.
'The
Origins,' described as an 'excerpt from an unfinished novel,' is a
glimpse into a man's reflecting upon the possible source of his
self-loathing. Inevitably, we want more, to see where such brooding
leads. Alfred Jarry, the one author I know here, based upon his cult
status in inde circles, presents a short, descriptive rumination on
"for the most part Indian and Indo-Chinese" iconic imagery
in woodcut, also reproduced here. 'Black Mirror,' my favourite of the
three, is a fully-fledged short tale. An uncanny electrical charge is
claimed to reflect those foremost in the mind while manifesting
parallel emotions in colour on a perfectly flattened disc of coal.
Inevitably, it becomes a warning to the curious, but, in Lugones
pre-empting later Blackwood, draws me into wanting more.
The
initial print-run of all three is, of course, low, so any interested
readers should make a quick decision; because I do hope Raphus
continue on their path of intriguing little translations of the
recovered uncanny and esoteric.
