|
Post by dem bones on May 7, 2008 11:27:42 GMT
I'm delighted that there's an appreciative Birkin presence on here but, bearing in mind your aversion to torture tales, I'd tread carefully with him, David. Hugh Lamb is not being melodramatic in his introduction to Waiting For Trains - and there's not even the tiniest dribble of blood in that one as far as I can recall. His world view might best be described as "bleak" and, when I was working on the Gruesome Cargoes board (RIP), I tried to read every story I had of his, one after the other. He varies the attack with some lighter moments (including some ridiculous excursions into SF), but by the time I reached the So Pale, So Cold, So Fair collection, suicide was making more sense than ever.
Johnny Probert - you're post on the respective merits of Birkin and Temperley has set me off on a Temperley trawl! I read and enjoyed his The Victorian Conservatory in Pan #20 just hours before Kowtongo Plaything: it's a traditional demon flower horror, not exactly cheerful but in no way does it prepare you for his contribution to #23! I think your line "'You want a horror story? Here's a horror story' It's what I call 'proper horror' - well written, disquieting and often leaving you with a sense of 'My God I can't believe people could do that to one another'" is equally applicable ... Plaything. As I was reading it, I was thinking Birkin: similar detached approach, as though he were reporting on a war crime for Reuters: same stubborn refusal to send in the cavalry at the last moment. Only Alex White in The Clinic had ever put me in mind of his work prior to that.
Amazingly, Hans Heinz Ewers has yet to feature on this thread, so I guess I should set that right. I once tried to get a name anthologist - and Birkin fan: that narrows the list of suspects! - interested in reviving his Tomatoe Sauce but he wasn't having any of it. Too unremittingly grim, too relentlessly sadistic. Ewers is maybe best remembered for The Execution Of Damiens which Herbert Van Thal saw fit to resurrect for Pan Horror #3, and, oh deep joy, it is little more than a straight account of a true instance of Parisien "justice". Ewers just mixes in the character Lady Cynthia to have a woman drool over this unfortunate guy being torn to pieces.
Back when I've reacquainted myself with The Copper Bowl (and, quite possibly, Diddling).
|
|
|
Post by Johnlprobert on May 7, 2008 12:26:37 GMT
Kev - when you're on the Temperley trail you'll presumably read 'The Boy with Golden Eyes' from Pan 18 which I really liked, even though it doesn't really go anywhere after the utterly utterly memorably splendid images of spiders pulling themselves out of children's eyeballs, growning huge and running off amongst the back gardens of English suburbia.
|
|
|
Post by allthingshorror on May 7, 2008 12:57:35 GMT
Here are the first few lines.
DIDDLING
Considered as one of the exact sciences
Since the world began there have been two Jeremys. The one wrote a Jermiad about usury, and was called Jeremy Bentham. He has been much admired by Mr John Neal, and was a great man in a small way. The other gave name to the most important of the Exact Sciences, and was a great man in a great way - I may say indeed, in the very greatest of ways.
Diddling-or the abstract idea conveyed by the verb to diddle - is sufficiently well understood. Yet the fact, the deed, the thing, diddling, is somewhat difficult to define. We may get, however, at a tolerably distinct conception of the matter in hand, by defining not the thing, diddling in itself, but man, as an animal that diddles. Had Plato but hit upon this, he would have been spared the affront of the picked chicken.
|
|
|
Post by weirdmonger on May 7, 2008 13:31:26 GMT
Here are the first few lines. DIDDLINGConsidered as one of the exact sciences Since the world began there have been two Jeremys. The one wrote a Jermiad about usury, and was called Jeremy Bentham. He has been much admired by Mr John Neal, and was a great man in a small way. The other gave name to the most important of the Exact Sciences, and was a great man in a great way - I may say indeed, in the very greatest of ways. Diddling-or the abstract idea conveyed by the verb to diddle - is sufficiently well understood. Yet the fact, the deed, the thing, diddling, is somewhat difficult to define. We may get, however, at a tolerably distinct conception of the matter in hand, by defining not the thing, diddling in itself, but man, as an animal that diddles. Had Plato but hit upon this, he would have been spared the affront of the picked chicken. Sounds as if it could be the beginning of a great horror story.
|
|
|
Post by carolinec on May 7, 2008 15:09:55 GMT
Here are the first few lines. DIDDLINGConsidered as one of the exact sciences Since the world began there have been two Jeremys. The one wrote a Jermiad about usury, and was called Jeremy Bentham. He has been much admired by Mr John Neal, and was a great man in a small way. The other gave name to the most important of the Exact Sciences, and was a great man in a great way - I may say indeed, in the very greatest of ways. Diddling-or the abstract idea conveyed by the verb to diddle - is sufficiently well understood. Yet the fact, the deed, the thing, diddling, is somewhat difficult to define. We may get, however, at a tolerably distinct conception of the matter in hand, by defining not the thing, diddling in itself, but man, as an animal that diddles. Had Plato but hit upon this, he would have been spared the affront of the picked chicken. Sounds as if it could be the beginning of a great horror story. I think this might be a link to the full story? classiclit.about.com/library/bl-etexts/eapoe/bl-eapoe-diddling.htmI have to say, I'd never heard of it before either!
|
|
|
Post by pulphack on May 7, 2008 19:23:34 GMT
as usual, come to this really late. another interesting debate that in some senses is the same as the brainy/pulp debate.
because the thing is, although nothing's ever put me off horror, there are some things that make me feel 'enough...'
thinking about it, the divide for me happens when it's a subject that is particularly close to the bone - paedophilia, animal abuse particularly. but it's not about how graphic it is per se. rather it's about whether it's there to prove a point (tell you something about the character, further the story, etc). if it's just there for pure exploitation purposes, then i feel i'm having my chain yanked, and get pissed off with the story.
and yet... such exploitation on another subject doesn't make me react in such a way. for instance, sexual abuse in adults (hetero- or homosexual) can make me feel repulsion or horror - as intended, one would assume - but doesn't make me feel like turning away. which suggests that it's not so much the intent of the writer or the tools of the trade that take it too far, but if it touches a nerve with your own sensibilities.
and it doesn't even have to be graphic - if it's 'brainy' horror (fucks sakes, can't we call it something else?) - the suggestion if well implied can do the job as well. at the same time, pulpy horror can get away with more for me because you know the intent isn't serious, and extreme gore is more like tom and jerry than real life.
i think that it's possible that all it comes down to is how the written word connects to your own inner life, rather than the intent of any author. and what the reader brings to the page is something the writer has no control over. imagine writing a harmless little romance about a woman who works in a button shop and giving it to a reader who - without your knowledge - has a phobia about buttons... (though the velcro would be a dead giveaway for me)
|
|
|
Post by Craig Herbertson on May 7, 2008 20:49:31 GMT
Tom and Jerry. Pulphack hit the inner core. The sickening depiction of gratuitous violence. And God, Jerry smiles as he hammers in the nails...
I too avoided this thread because I find it quite disturbing. Research I did for School: the Seventh Silence plunged me into depression as I quickly came to terms with the awful truth that the most horrific scenarios are those involving the torture or whatever of children. And sadly, there's probably nothing that we could write that matches the horendous reality.
Animals come a close second partly because they are by definition blameless in their own terms but children - are clearly 'innocent', I use the term guardedly as advised me by psychologists who regard chidren as ammoral rather than innocent, but its enough to know they are small and deserve protection.
I notice that I remember some stories involving kids quite clearly from my early years of reading Pan. One the child who is locked up and tries to escape over the wall. She is about to be made to look wisened and old by her grandmother. The other conversely 'The Little Girl Eater' where the girl warned about strangers drops the heavy weight on the poor trapped fellows head.
I think horror writers have to take the consequences of writing about these topics and I always get put off when they are treated as though 'not real'
|
|
|
Post by carolinec on May 7, 2008 22:04:06 GMT
I notice that I remember some stories involving kids quite clearly from my early years of reading Pan. One the child who is locked up and tries to escape over the wall. She is about to be made to look wisened and old by her grandmother. The other conversely 'The Little Girl Eater' where the girl warned about strangers drops the heavy weight on the poor trapped fellows head. Interesting you should say that, Craig. When you think about it, a lot of the kind of fairy stories we read as kids (well, I read anyway - I'm assuming the rest of you did too? Or maybe it's just people of my generation?) generally involved horrible things happening to children. Eg. ending up in a witch's oven, and so on. We're brought up with those kinds of images. Strange way to bring kids up when you think about it really, isn't it?
|
|
|
Post by Craig Herbertson on May 8, 2008 7:02:05 GMT
Yes, CarolineC,
it fascinates me. Some of my favourite horror stories are fairy tales. I have some of the early versions - Langs's collection, Anderson and the Brothers Grimm. Grimm is the in epithet. Putting hot metal boots on a girls feet or cutting off a chap's head are all in a days work in the pre Disney fairy tale. Maybe we should put up a rival company to Disney - an alter ego which shows the 'true story' behind some of these anaemic parodies.
The purpose of most tales was instruction I believe - the mores and code of the social group. Basically, who we are, what we do and who is boss.
Anthropological studies suggest that many tribes do not consider a child as a full social being. They value adults far more than children. Its Mainly the west which has paced the onerous role of paradigmatic innocent on kids. Its coming out in all sorts of contradictions in British society with kids being placed on a pedestal and also vilified at the same time.
|
|
|
Post by eddempster on May 8, 2008 8:33:02 GMT
Yeah, I had forgotten about that. My gran gave me a very old book full of pre Disney fairy stories to read to my kids. I bigged it up to them, saying I had a treat for them that night. But when I started reading them, I was shocked to find how horrific they were. One I remember featured some kind of catcher character, who chased kids with an enormous pair of scissors, and would chop their heads off for running away I rang my gran to thank her, but said I thought the stories were too upsetting for kids. She said not to be so silly - she'd read them to me when I was little. Yeah, thanks for that, Gran - no wonder I had so many nightmares when I was a kid. I have even commented to my wife how our kids very rarely have nightmares, yet I was forever having them when I was their age. In the original version of Cinderella, I'm pretty sure I remember the ugly sisters cutting their toes off in a vain attempt to make their feet fit the glass slipper. That's not in the Disney version.
|
|
|
Post by carolinec on May 8, 2008 8:45:23 GMT
Yes, funny you guys should mention Disney as that made me realise - not having had kids myself, I haven't had the pleasure (?!) of reading bedtime stories and knowing the kind of things kids read (if at all!) nowadays. I was assuming everyone still reads the Brothers Grimm! Anyway, I've diverted the discussion a bit, so back to it - in a way. Does anyone have a problem with too much sex? I mean on the page or on the screen - I'm not enquiring into your love lives! I find too much/too many graphic details puts me off - in just the same way that too much violence does. Now I'm no prude. If it's relevant to the story, no problem. But it's the same point many of you have made above - if it's just graphic description of sex for it's own sake, then it's an immediate turn-off for me. James Herbert seems to be a serial offender in that respect. The story's trotting along nicely, and then all of a sudden you get a graphic two page sex scene. Leaves me totally knackered!
|
|
|
Post by David A. Riley on May 8, 2008 10:09:02 GMT
I totally agree with you, Caroline. These "obligatory" two page sex scenes, particularly, as you say, from people like James Herbert, are a turn-off for me too, especially when they're written in such a grubby way. I read a recent James Herbert about a man who was murdered while having an out of body experience. I really enjoyed this book - till one character gets sexually involved with some Arab tourists. This scene is particularly graphic and seemed totally out of keeping with the rest of the novel.
There are several writers like this, though, and not just in the horror genre, whose books you can pick up and almost open to the page where there is going to be a bit of lurid sex, as if they feel their readers expect it.
It's noticeable that someone like Stephen King, for example, never does this. In fact, other than Gerald's Game, sex is a very understated element in his novels, usually left unmentioned behind closed doors. When it is mentioned at all I have yet to find it anything like as gross as someone like James Herbert would describe or mention it.
Personally, unless it is an essential part of the story, I don't see why it needs describing at all, unless the writer chooses to do so as some cheap form of titillation.
Like you, I'm not prudish about it - and have one story in particular where a perverse form of sex is the central theme of it - but it does annoy me when some writers just have to have their obligatory, usually grossly-written scenes.
David
|
|
|
Post by sean on May 8, 2008 10:36:16 GMT
These "obligatory" two page sex scenes, particularly, as you say, from people like James Herbert, David All those second-hand copies of Herbert novels with the spine broken at the sex scene, so it was easy to find for a young lad! I don't know if this is really relevant, but I was dragged up by religious types, and they flipped when I bought a copy of James Herbert's 'Shrine' home. I was about 11 and had been reading horror for a year or so already. But what they took offence to was the religious content of the book, not the sex and violence (which I think they were probably unaware of). Just goes to show that horror novels can be hated for all sorts of reasons!
|
|
|
Post by David A. Riley on May 8, 2008 10:38:37 GMT
And it's worse when they're hardbacks.
David
|
|
|
Post by Johnlprobert on May 8, 2008 16:08:56 GMT
To be honest Sean I think that's another reason I love them. There's nothing quite as fine as rattling a few cages now and then.
|
|