John Halkin - Slither

[dem]

John Halkin - Slither (Hamlyn, 1980, 1984)

You'll never feel safe in your bath again ....

From his first terrifying, bloody encounter with them Matt Parker knew they were lethal to the human race. Out of the murky sewers they suddenly attacked —snapping, biting, ripping at his flesh. After the first sensationalism had died down, the newspapers lost interest ... the experts dismissed them as no more dangerous than ferrets ... people started to forget.
But Matt knew different. All the time they were growing in size and numbers — and they preyed on living flesh!
For when they returned — slithering out of village ponds, swimming pools, even bath pipes — the fate of the British population was sealed.

And there was no more horrifying way to die ....

TV cameraman and aspiring documentary-maker Matt first encounters the worms when he's filming alone in the sewer. Fortunately for him, his cries for help alert the rest of his team who, after making sure they get some decent footage of him laying bleeding and unconscious with the slimy monsters chowing down on his flesh, pull him to safety. Once he's acquired a new plastic face and got used to having just the three fingers on one hand, he goes back to work and annoys everyone with his scaremongering over man-eating sewer-worms. His bosses cut him some slack for at least three minutes, but when it becomes clear that he's blowing jobs to go worm-hunting with their equipment, they pay him off.

Wife Helen is quite pleased at this development ... to begin with. They move to the seaside town of Westport where they acquired a holiday home during the early years of their marriage, and he puts plenty of work into making it livable, so much so that their dormant sex-life is rekindled. But .... he's still obsessing over his bloody worms, even building tanks to keep his best (juicy, three foot) specimens. He's also entered into business partnership with attractive, hippyish divorcee Fran from the handicrafts shop in the village. He skins the worms, she works their attractive green-purple hides into belts and handbags for fashion conscious young women. Soon even Harrods are stocking them. Helen suspects there is more to this association than meets the eye and she is well to have her doubts. Also, the worms don't take kindly to becoming fodder for fashion accessories, and get ready for war ....

To be continued, etc

[franklinmarsh]

What a cover! Halkin's second best after Slime! Why did I get rid of my copy! etc...

It's those unrealistic critters (with legs!) on the front that help make it.

[dem]

"According to one news flash, several wealthy families living near the Thames were offering to pay luxury rents for council flats in high-rise blocks."

Yeah, great cover FM, but Halkin gets just about everything else right, too. He knows what the 'nasty' formula dictates and doesn't try and go all clever on us. We know the rules, and so does he: never be a homeless wino: never go in for al fresco sex: never be a lovable, frisky puppy dog ....

The doomy vignettes and army versus worms set pieces are what it's all about, and Halkin handles these with as much aplomb as 'Richard Lewis' or Micheal Linaker. There's a tense climax on Dartmoor when, having discovered the spawning ground, at last, Matt, Fran and little Jenny comes face to face with the female of the species (scary), but perhaps my favourite moment is the attack on the Boat Race. Which crew will survive: Oxford, Cambridge or neither? As it's all going out live on TV, how will the delighted commentator get through it without another unfortunate reference to the winning team's "Cox"?

The characters are better drawn than usual and some are even likable: Matt has his moments, but as "the man who nobody believed" , he's at least less annoying than your average James Herbert angry know-it-all. His wife is on the dour side but don't worry too much about her as she certainly knows how to bow out in style: Jenny, their ten-year-old daughter is one of the least irritating kids in horror lit, and Fran is plucky enough. Then there's Angus, the cockney sewer foreman, ever up for a good swear and a pint in The Crown: Tegwyn Aneurin Rhys, (possibly of good Welsh stock), a dotty worm expert who believes the sewer variety are from outer space and we should learn to communicate with them: Little Tim and Annie, who free a jam jar full of "biters" into Gordon the posh bloke's private swimming pool after he gives them a ticking off for trespassing.

I'm on the warpath for Slime now!

[nightreader]

Thought you might be interested in seeing this. Another recent find...



From the back cover:

The strange new beetles lool like exquiiste jewels - covered with emerald and yellow markings.

Accompanying them are something even more terrifying - gigantic worms that turn pink after feasting on human blood.

These lethal allies now converge in devastation and massacre of a terrified city. And no one in London can escape their horrendous onslaught...

Not read it yet, but looks like fun

[killercrab]

Stunning cover Nightreader - I'd read this! Thanks for the alert - what's the publication year?



ade

[nightreader]

Ade, the publication year is 1987 in Arrow Books.

According to Fantastic Fiction website he's also done:
'Fatal Secrets' in 1981
'The Unholy' in 1982 (which looks good)
'Kenya' in 1983 (non horror)
'Hantu' in 1987

[killercrab]

Cheers - I only ask because I think it was reprinted and I'm rather taken by the cover - don't want to be looking for the wrong one online!

ade

[dem]

Thanks for posting that, nighty! "Gigantic worms that turn pink after feasting on human blood" - and a London setting, too. Bloodworm is ,unsurprisingly, a straight to wants list.

[Calenture]

May 21, 2008 5:15:21 GMT dem said:

Thanks for posting that, nighty! "Gigantic worms that turn pink after feasting on human blood" - and a London setting, too. Bloodworm is ,unsurprisingly, a straight to wants list.

This giant worms one appeals to me, too. Very 50s SF-ish. I'd love to see it done by Harryhausen with strobing stop-motion and tiny plastic Londoners flying around.

Cannot resist adding that Londoners should be on the lookout for One Eye Grey, an indie fiction magazine of about the same size as FC, with "Stories From Another London".

Besides Benedict Jones' story - the editor namechecks Death Line in mentioning it - this morning I read one which would appeal to M R James enthusiasts. More about this later. Londoners can probably find it for £2.50.

[erebus]

Getting back to Slither, Are they meant to be lizards on that gals face or what ??

[erebus]

Theres a lot of love for this book here on the forums. And justifiably so . Although I have to say the lead character in this book, Matt Parker, is one of the biggest arseholes Ive ever encountered in one of these books.
We start of in chapter one with him getting his face chomped on by the worms. He is obviously disfigured for life. Hospitalised his wife has reservations on how he will look like after the grand unveiling. Is he going to be hideous ? Regardless she decides to stand by him at all costs. It seems he's not come out of it to bad and the skin samples they took off his arse are pretty good. So what does old Arseface go and do to thank his wife and young daughters love and loyalty ? go commit adultery with the woman in the craft shop.
His long suffering Missus also doesn't take to kindly to the tanks of flesh eating worms out in the shed either. Matt doesn't care because him and his bit on the side are making a mint selling worm skins to Harrods.
He crosses the line with me with the animal cruelty. First when out with his crumpet he sees a dog getting attacked by a couple of worms, he doesn't raise a finger, just watches it all unfold. But in the next few minutes plucks two up from the ground to throw in his sample box.
Then he feeds his pets in the shed in the most callous ways. Throwing little mice to the smaller worms. Then opening a box containing a terrified rabbit into an aquarium full of bigger versions.
He gets worse. He's of screwing Fran his fancy bit in a hotel, whilst his terrified wife has had a bad time feeding his pets. She succumbs in the bath to some worms up from the plughole. Eaten Alive. His shocked daughter finds the corpse and rings him. Sorry to interrupt your sex Mummys dead, she informs him. Does he shriek, panic, go into hysterics ? No he casually digs his heals in and takes forever to get back home. Neither a tear or a wail shed. And he doesn't even go comfort his daughter.
And to top it off when his sister-in-law informs him about funeral arrangements a few days later, he gives her a dumbstruck impression and tells her he had basically totally forgotten about it, and its not gonna be able to happen because of this worm thing going down. Do you believe this guy.
I was constantly slapping my forehead in disbelief. And it had been a large number of years since I read the book so I was so hoping he got killed at the end like the main guy always seems to in Hutson books. But !

Other than that, what a fun book. Don't know why they went with lizards on the cover. Do the publishers even read these things ? And couldn't Halkin at the time question the chosen image. Ah well its all academic now isnt it.

[dem]

God knows, I love Slither. Other than Clive Barker or James Herbert, I doubt many authors had any say in the packaging, and it is unlikely too many house artists bothered to read, or even knew, which novels their work would eventually adorn. Badger Books - possibly not your typical publisher, i realise - started with a painting and just left their authors - usually Lionel Fanthorpe & his pseudonyms - to write something around them.

It's been too long since I read this, so can't really remember how Matt Parker scored on personal wanker-o-metre, but he can't be more annoying than Mr. Herbert's angry common man as superhero cut-outs.

Feb 20, 2014 17:07:57 GMT erebus said:

He crosses the line with me with the animal cruelty. First when out with his crumpet he sees a dog getting attacked by a couple of worms, he doesn't raise a finger, just watches it all unfold. But in the next few minutes plucks two up from the ground to throw in his sample box.
Then he feeds his pets in the shed in the most callous ways. Throwing little mice to the smaller worms. Then opening a box containing a terrified rabbit into an aquarium full of bigger versions.

It's almost a mantra among horror fans of my acquaintance. Violence in every conceivable form versus other human beings is actively encouraged, nay, demanded, but leave that tiny little guinea pig alone you bastard or I'll f**k**g kill you! Maybe we're not so thoroughly disgusting after all.

[bluetomb]

I actually read this a few months ago but am only now writing up, having resolved to keep better records. This was the first outright pulp I've read since I was around 13 or so, or if you count Stephen King as outright pulp (I consider him more of a weird outlier), 17. An at times splendid re-introduction, its shortcomings mostly made up by the times it hits the sweet spot. The plot and characters are pretty basic, our hero Matt Parker has a near fatal encounter with some monster worms while filming a documentary in a London sewer, after getting patched up he tries to warn the land but few are interested. He loses his job after damaging a company camera and winds up farming worms for their skins, growing apart from his wife and closer to his new business partner, local craft shop owner Fran. Of course worms countrywide are not staying quiet...



This gets off to a roaring start, with worms on the attack within a sentence. I remember The Rats taking at least a few pages and plenty of others following suit, but this dives in fast enough that if Halkin didn't have a knack for this you'd lose your bearings. Fortunately, when in gear he writes as clearly as he does briskly and peppers events with just enough scene painting description, so this and other set pieces come across much as if you're watching a surprisingly well crafted vintage b movie (much as I love 'em, all too many barely bothered with more than one proper exciting or nasty attack). Not too graphic or drawn out, but good and vicious.



Things slow down after this, the worms are never far from matters but it takes some 50 odd pages before their next really dangerous appearance. In this section a couple of thoughts occurred, firstly, would the authorities/British people in general really have been so calm about an invading, possibly outright alien species with a clear hunger for human flesh? Sure, I wasn’t around in the late 70’s/early 80’s and I’m sure it was a thrill a minute time for the country, but even so it seems like flesh eating aliens would have been a bigger story. Also, would you really go into business farming the things that ate your face? And, having experienced someone filming you instead of helping you in grave danger, wouldn’t doing the same to a poor dog make you kind of an arse-hole?



These sorts of thoughts were what stopped me from fully engaging with this one, though never dull it ended up being a couple of weeks reading rather than a single weekend, my enthusiasm just tapered a bit. Also, one potentially awesome massacre in the second half is very weakly glossed over as if Halkin just didn’t know what to do with it. But generally the mounting attacks are effective, and the two punch climax is both effectively exciting and scary. All in all I would recommend, though better things were to come…