The Wolves of God and Other Fey Stories by Algernon Blackwood & Wilfred Wilson, Wildside Press.

Perhaps the rarest collection of Blackwood, in truth, it remains one of several never officially reprinted.

  First published in 1921, a re-reading today uncovers certain forgotten facts.

Overall, the collection is uneven.  Of the fifteen tales, the first four are shamelessly derivative of past glories, re-treading plot and country from ‘The Listeners and Other Stories’ (1907) and ‘The Lost Valley’ (1910).

  But, stay with them.  ‘The Tarn of Sacrifice’ has an ex-soldier, back from the Front, and intent on a walking tour of the Lake District.  His clear loneliness for company is served when he all too willingly falls in with a windswept young woman and her father, disturbed by their own past, who welcome him in to their obsessive world of ritual.

  ‘Egyptian Sorcery’ subconsciously links Blackwood to Alistair Crowley and their membership of The Golden Dawn as thought transference becomes the means to pull a man’s beloved sister through a life-saving operation that might otherwise have killed her.  Some intriguing – and, perhaps, unintentionally amusing – gender bending ensues.

  ‘Confession’ is a favourite, and one of the most satisfying tales in its subjective fear and unrelenting build to the climax.  A Canadian soldier, suffering agoraphobia, has to face the fog of London for the first time, en route to a final week of convalescence in Brighton.  Losing his way, he is also on the point of losing control, when a strange woman - only half-conscious of him - draws him into following her.   What follows is the kind of blind circuitous route no one would wish to take.

  The penultimate tale, ‘The Lane That Ran East and West,’ is another gem; as earthily romantic in rural setting and character as the best of D. H. Lawrence.  Running through all his work, Blackwood’s signature ability to deftly meld ‘real’ events with the dream state is, here, depicted at its best.

A woman who spends her life watching various entrances and exits come and go beside the long country road she lives by, one day meets a mysterious passer-by who stops to hand her – and her alone - a fern leaf as a gift for payment she will one day pay to herself.  What comes-to-pass many years later, in a time and place she could never have predicted, reminds her tellingly of this day.

  That good stories have been hiding amongst those already considered inferior isn’t the only forgotten fact about this book.  Most of the unwary protagonists are soldiers, either shell-shocked or otherwise wounded, returning from World War One to a new world they must somehow re-engage with.  (Blackwood’s world of myth and madness would surely have made most wish they hadn’t come back at all!)

  This is hardly surprising, since Mike Ashley’s revealing biography on Blackwood – ‘Starlight Man’ – confirms that most of these tales were written in the immediate aftermath of Armistice, during 1919 – 20.

  And who was Wilfred Wilson?  Ashley confesses to gleaning few facts about him, other than he seems to have been a long-term hill-walking companion of Blackwood’s, who deemed he'd offered him enough research on the lie of foreign lands to justify joint credit.

http://www.englishpen.org/

English PEN is the UK branch of the International Writers Association
that supports freedom of speech and its proponents throughout the
World.  They are always on the lookout for new supporters, so why
not check them out.

The Box: Uncanny Stories by Richard Matheson, Tor Books

We are in the territory of the white picket fence and the twitching curtain; specifically, post-war, Atomic America of the Fifties and Sixties, where the white-collar middle class believed it had much to fear from blue-collar make-doers.

  Time has emphasised the class demarcation as something worth fearing.

In ‘Button, Button,’ – the opening tale turned into a movie for which this release is its tie-in – a door-to-door salesman from a nameless, possibly disreputable, company offers a special offer to a well-to-do New Yorker couple in return for the ultimate sacrifice that may salve the conscience through anonymity.

  ‘Girl of My Dreams’ describes an insecure, psychotic, trailer-trash Bonnie-and-Clyde blackmailing a respectable married woman in her own home.

‘…he appraised the room.  Money was in evidence wherever he looked, in the carpeting and drapes, the period furniture, the accessories…this was it all right.’

  ‘Dying Room Only’ has nice Ford-owning Bob and Jean finding a downbeat roadside café at summer’s unbearable height, that sells only ‘Hi-Li Orange and Dr Pepper,’ leaving Jean alone with the idling, downtrodden drinkers, while her husband’s non-return from the John makes each one culpable.

  ‘A Flourish of Strumpets’ returns us to door-to-door selling of the back-page variety as The Exchange tries soliciting a different kind of service to its not-in-our-backyard Republicans.

  To what extent was Matheson aware of this at the time?

The second half of the collection, penned subsequently, is more varied, but collectively revealing an umbrella theme all their own.

  ‘No Such Thing as a Vampire’ has a medical twist in its tale.  ‘Mute’ - the longest and best story here – describes a voiceless German boy, orphaned from a house fire, and his mysterious survival.  ‘Shock Wave’ is a more conventional horror tale where a church organ, due for removal, takes revenge against its fate on behalf of its covetous owner.

  The remaining four are message stories played for laughs.  ‘The Creeping Terror’ is a punning satire on the Cult Phenomena and the media’s relationship with ‘the facts,’ while ‘Clothes Make the Man,’ ‘The Jazz Machine’ and the very silly ‘’Tis the Season to Be Jelly,’ closing this collection, all deal with the question of man’s ability to hold onto his identity.

  Matheson fans will know too well most of the early tales here, having been anthologised to death over the past forty years.  Yet, for the newcomer, they have morphed into something else; a snapshot of the repressed fears in post-war conservative values faced with the, then, new cushioning appliances and their purveyors of domestic convenience.

Tales of Hoffmann by E.T.A. Hoffmann, Penguin Classics

In the introduction to ‘The New Uncanny,’ Ra Page refers to Sigmund Freud’s seminal 1919 essay on the subject, and the eight irrational fears he defined as often deployed in such tales.

  The eighth is quoted as ‘confusions between reality and imagination (waking dreams, etc.).’  Not that the whole setting, from the outset, is confused, but, more crucially, the ambiguous perception of the main character or narrator and its depiction.  ‘The Sandman’ – used as Freud’s model – is easily Hoffmann’s most famous tale, having appeared as an actual character in everything from the opening of Roy Orbison’s 1963 hit single ‘In Dreams’ to a 1990s’ graphic novel series by Neil Gaiman.

  A mother’s friendly deadline to her bed-wary young son to beware the eye-dust sprinkling Sandman by 9 pm each night gains credence with the simultaneous arrival of Coppelius; his father’s domineering ‘mechanician’ and spectacle-selling hawker.  In hiding one night to discover his identity, the boy misinterprets the adults seemingly shared interest in mystical alchemy, played out in the front room.   Scaring the boy, a lifelong pathological hatred of the figure is triggered, particularly after the boy’s father suddenly dies.

  But - almost another century on - it’s clear something else is going on here.

The physical description of ‘Sandman’ Coppelius is rather less ambiguous than the tale.  The ‘large heavy nose drawn down over the upper lip’ and the seemingly delighted overcharging to a subsequent customer, point to the stereotypical, contemporary sketch of the avaricious Jew.

  Yet, you can’t help feeling the story is greater than this.  Since the whole tale is based upon the varying prejudicial assumptions of those who come into contact with Coppelius, it can also be read as a satire on that very prejudice.  Hoffmann himself is intriguingly wrought in R. J. Hollingdale’s introduction as an ‘anarchic humorist’ who, as a lawyer by day, shamelessly satirized those he’d been working with at night, getting himself, (despite or, perhaps, because of his contemporary literary success), into a lot of libellous trouble.  Such Jekyll / Hyde duality surely makes him as much of a choice character for the graphic novel as The Sandman himself.

  The rest of the book continues in the vein of characters either defying the narrators’ perceptions or justifying them in wholly unexpected ways, leaving each a victim psychologically scarred. .Hoffmann’s cynical wit pervades throughout, presaging that of American author Ambrose Bierce whom he most closely resembles.  Of the other ‘Tales’ worth recommending are ‘Councillor Krespel,’ ‘Doge and Dogaressa’ and ‘The Choosing of the Bride.’  Each, in their entrances and exits, as madly Gothic as the next.

  R.J. Hollingdale also translated this text.  By his own admission, he edited for increased pace more in keeping with our generation than Hoffmann’s, which, if its classic age and status had previously put you off, I’d seriously reconsider.

The New Uncanny, Edited by Sarah Eyre & Ra Page, Comma Press

The adjective ‘uncanny’ isn’t heard much nowadays.  Scouting round for a single definition, the reason is made instantly clear.

  The OED offers six entries: from ‘mischievous, malicious’ to ‘dangerous, unsafe.’  The Free Online offers five: from ‘peculiarly unsettling…of supernatural origin’ to ‘so keen and perceptive to seem preternatural.’  The Cambridge is happy with just the one, theirs ending almost in apology; ‘strange or mysterious; difficult or impossible to explain.’

  This collection from Comma reflects what is as seemingly indefinable as the term’s true meaning.  Still, the OED also adds, in definition 4b. – ‘partaking of a supernatural character; mysterious, weird, uncomfortably strange or unfamiliar’ – as being ‘common from c.1850.’  Popular Gothic fiction of what might be termed ‘uncanny’ peaked at this time, pointing to this literary usage as likely the most influential.  It is also, probably, the most recognisable today.

  So, any of these being the likely parameter, it is puzzling why so few of the stories here succeed.  Matthew Holness’s ‘Possum’ is pure horror, in its depiction from the outset of an animal’s corpse used as a medico-psychopath’s toy.  In Gerard Woodward’s ‘The Underhouse,’ a man meticulously reconstructs a childhood kink by recreating the world he saw when he first stood on his head.  Ian Duhig’s awkwardly titled ‘The Un(heim)lich(e) Man(oeuvre)’ is self-regarding, clever and funny, but far too knowing and information-heavy to leave the uncanny space necessary for building tension or mood.

  This doesn’t mean these tales aren’t good.  The singular originality of each harbours its own strength.  But in no way can they be considered ‘uncanny.’  This requires subtlety, and communicating a covert, rather than overt, sense of fear; a point Ra Page herself alludes to in the Introduction.

  Perhaps, inevitably, the more seasoned writers here translate the term better in their linear contributions, understanding how less is more.  Ramsey Campbell’s ‘Double Room’ foregrounds the growing obsession of a hotel resident who believes his neighbour copies exactly every sound he makes.  Christopher Priest’s ‘The Sorting Out’ follows a woman who believes herself stalked by an absent former boyfriend who won’t let go.  A.S. Byatt’s ‘Dolls’ Eyes’ evokes Angela Carter in less fantastical mood, about a strange, unspoken relationship between another single woman and her ‘reluctant’ collection.

  Each succeeds in continuing the uncanny tradition.  Although, since the back cover proclaims its authors as having been set a challenge to ‘write fresh interpretations of what (it) might mean in the 21^st century…’ their success can also be considered only partial.

  A final word on the penultimate entry; Hanif Kureishi’s ‘Long Ago, Yesterday’; I’d never read him before, but this perfectly pitched tale on encountering his late parents at a particular time in his youth and rediscovering, in adulthood, what he’d left behind, touched a nerve that left me on the point of tears.  Beautiful and life-affirming, and proof - if it were needed – how the uncanny, whatever its true concern, is rarely ever about guts and graves.

MCSWEENEY'S ENCHANTED CHAMBER OF ASTONISHING STORIES, Edited by Michael Chabon, Vintage Books

The lurid retro cover of three cowl-clad spectres surrounding a woman they have swathed in rope before a dominating pair of White Zombie-style eyes ensured this 2004 American release acquired its liberation from among the spines of a local charity bookshop.

  Far from being obscure, it seems U.S. cult magazine McSweeney’s has attracted the biggest names in fantasy fiction in recent years, of which this anthology is one of several.

  Yet, it is likely these stories comprise a mix of entries first considered, then dropped, from short story collections, with others, submitted freelance, turned down by their publishers.  Does this mean they are second rate?

I would say not, though the quality can be uneven.

  The welcome inclusion of talented unknowns and lesser knowns’ certainly give the bigger names a run for their money.  Aylet Waldman’s ‘Minnow’ is stunning in its original take on a couple who have lost their child, only for the mother to believe she hears it still on a neighbour’s monitor.  Steve Erickson’s ‘Zeroville’ takes film obsession to an OCD degree, while Heidi Julavits’s ‘The Miniaturist’ traps us in a strange house with a strange woman who silently invokes an ever-repeating spell.

  Of the bigger names, Margaret Atwood surprises, opening this collection with a neat, understated vampire tale, (‘Lusus Naturae’).  Poppy Z. Brite’s ‘The Devil of Delery Street’ updates the setting and mood music of Catholic guilt, while Joyce Carol Oates’ contribution is surprisingly traditional in a Poe-inspired tale of descending madness spawned of isolation in ‘The Fabled Light-House of Vina Del Mar.’

  Almost inevitably, the longest entry is Stephen King’s (‘Lisey and The Madman’), bearing his usual, strung out emphasis on dull minutiae, quickly sapping the attention.  While China Mieville’s ‘Reports of Certain Events in London’ is certainly original with its unresolved, cut n’ paste mock-up, its very inconclusiveness left me cold.

    Also available from McSweeney’s– if you look hard enough – are their Mammoth Treasury of Thrilling Tales, Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans, Quarterly Concern and The Believers.  Surely worth checking out for the titles alone.

  At the back of this one you will see that its sales benefit ‘a writing lab disguised as a pirate-supply store, dedicated to helping students with their writing skills.’  I suppose the charity shop I purchased this copy from can at least salve my conscience as the second-best option.

Visit www.826Valencia.org for more information.

An Idea for Readers and Writers

An old mate, William Baggs, has asked if I'd post the notice below on his behalf.  
It's kosher no hard sell - but could be worth consideration if your life's getting just too hectic.

"Hello,

I am organising a weekend workshop called ‘Skills for Living’ in London this September and as a close friend, family member or colleague, I would value your support in attending or helping me to promote the event.

‘Skills for Living’ incorporates exercises designed to improve health and general wellbeing, all the stuff I’ve been learning over the past 2 years that has helped me with depression and low energy levels. Basically, it works!

There are two exercises that are particularly beneficial and you will learn and practise these over the weekend:

1. The ‘inner smile’ is a simple but profound exercise for relaxing the heart and opening us up to deeper connection with ourselves and relationship to others. This is used to support general well being and can be particularly helpful with depression, anger and improved relations with others.

2. The 'Circulation of the Light' balance which supports and strengthens the natural flow of energy around the body. It is particularly beneficial in our fight against illness as it's the basis of the energy in the immune system. So if you want to avoid getting sick this is great. But better still if you are frequently have low energy and are run down then this will get your energy moving again. So you can see why it's also good for colds, jet lag and supporting women’s cycles.

There will also be a lot of fun energy practices that deepen understanding of how our minds influence the health of our body’s.

So, I am glad to be sharing this with you and hope that it will be of interest. ANd any support with promotion will be gratefully received. 

For more information on the processes you can check www.acuenergetics.com 

Dates: 

Fri 9th September 1900 til 2130

Sat 10th September 0930 til 1900

Sun 11th September 1000 til 1700

Price: 

£220 if paid before July 31st

£270 if paid before August 31st

£320 thereafter and on the day

£37 of your fee goes to acuenergetics to register you as a student. There is also a very insightful booklet and DVD for each participant.

venue: Acton, West London 

Contact; billbaggs@hotmail.com Email is best at this stage as I am in Sydney til June 8th.

In gratitude,

William Baggs"