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Post by dem bones on Jun 13, 2008 9:42:54 GMT
Guy N. Smith - Locusts (Hamlyn, 1979) A winged nightmare of swarming terrorBlurb: It seems the start of a glorious summer as Alan Alton and his family settle into their new home in the Shropshire hills. Then the insects start to appear. First there's one ... then hundreds ... thousands ... millions. A smothering tide of destruction covers the land.
As the heat-wave continues mercilessly week after week, the horde of invaders grows — a hideous, red-eyed devastation spreading across town and country. Biting, stripping,devouring ... and hating.
Before this onslaught the human population turns to flight. As panic grows, the death-toll also rises and the whole country is plunged into chaos.
Britain is being eaten alive.To my ever-lasting shame I've yet to get my hairy hands on any of the Werewolf books, so it's back to the Vault season of buggery for me so to speak. Franklin wrote what I still consider to be the definitive review of Locusts at the old place, and I'm hoping this will nudge him to copy it across! Alan, Sheila and young David Alton move into 'the Granary', a converted riding stable with acres of land which Alan plans to cultivate so he can live out his Tom & Barbara from The Good Life fantasies. Sheila is reluctant but then, she's a woman and therefore impossible. She resents that he's thrown in his chance of a partnership in the veterinary practice to deliberately "cock a snook at society", resents that he's forked out £30, 000 to farmer Tommy "Get orf my gate, young 'un" Hatherton for this ramshackle old dump, and, perhaps most of all. she resents that son David shares his father's passion for nature and creepy crawlies, as evinced by his prize collection of stick insects. Also, she and David's sex life took a turn for the non-existent some time ago, so she might as well resent that along with everything else. Add to that, she's started having vivid nightmares about evil grasshoppers, ("The creatures had formed into a half-circle, moving forward like the pincers of a giant crab bearing down on it's prey"), coming to bite her and suffocate her and crawl inside her and ..... Alan isn't too thrilled with the way things have gone either, He's always suspected that she deliberately got herself pregnant to ensnare him. But he loves David who is shaping up like a right chip off the old block, and then there's the sexy, flirtatious Pat Emmerton on the neighboring farm who never looks a man in the eye when she can gawp at the bulge in his trousers instead. He's sure she deliberately gave him a glimpse of her black bra the other day, too! That's settled. He'll have the jodhpurs off of her or his name isn't David Alton! Next we meet Mac, a gentleman of the road with an aversion for earwigs and a fetish for pretending to be a Scot and wearing a multi-coloured tam-o-shanter, kilt and Celtic F.C. anorak, pretty much a tramp as dressed by Vivien Westwood circa Sex. He's dossing down for the night in a spinney not far from the Alton's place and, bloody Hell, is it hot .....
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Post by killercrab on Jun 13, 2008 11:45:26 GMT
To my ever-lasting shame I've yet to get my hairy hands on any of the Werewolf books, so it's back to the Vault season of buggery for me so to speak. Franklin wrote what I still consider to be the definitive review of Locusts at the old place, and I'm hoping this will nudge him to copy it across! >> To my everlasting shame I never finished Guy Smith's *proper* novel. I got further than you so far , but no doub't you'll be hip deep in a plague of locusts before I log back on. Don't know why I put it down - probably something more exciting caught my eye. A shiny object maybe.. Remind me Dem - have you got CRAB'S MOON ?( it's not a trick question). KC
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Post by franklinmarsh on Jun 13, 2008 11:46:45 GMT
Here's my take - I'll try and put the cover up later. That's the third cover, Dem. I originally had a Hamlyn one with lots of ..erm...locusts on it.
Locusts - Guy N Smith. First published by Hamlyn Paperbacks 1979. Arrow edition 1987.
A winged nightmare of terror...
It seems the start of a glorious summer as Alan Alton and his family settle into their new home in the Shropshire hills. Then the insects start to appear. First there's one...then hundreds...thousands...millions. A smothering tide of destruction covers the land.
As the heatwave continues week after week, the horde of invaders grows - a hideous red-eyed devastation spreading across town and country. Biting, stripping, devouring everything - and everyone - in their path.
LOCUSTS
BRITAIN IS BEING EATEN ALIVE...
'My thanks to Chris Henning of the Centre for Overseas Pest Research for allowing me to use certain information from his publication The Locust Menace' - GNS
It's Britain's hottest summer since '76. Alan Alton, former office worker, pet shop boy, vet etc has coughed up thirty grand to weather-beaten cow-gown wearing Farmer Tommy Hatherton for a small holding. A fresh start, away from the polluted city. Wife Sheila, who has previously given into her husbands whims, is almost at the end of her tether. Everytime they seem to be getting somewhere, her hubby chucks it all in to start some new hare-brained scheme. She's not too keen on the big outdoors. All manner of dirt, animals, creepy-crawlies. Ugh! Things aren't great in the bedroom either. She's only attained orgasmo once, during an al fresco romp that led to conception, a shotgun wedding and their son David. Dave's a bit of a wimp, but his dad's convinced that their new open-air life will help him grow up big and strong. He takes a keen interest in animals, having a pet rabbit called Bunty, and some stick insects - which his mum demands be kept outside the house. Sheila's also a bit concerned that the marriage break up may be precipitated by the closeness of blonde bombshell whuh-o there she goes man-eater Pat Emmerton who runs the local stables and always has her eyes out (and legs open) for a well-filled male trouser front. Pat's married too but her husband 'Big' Steve is so-named because, since their marriage, he's been eating all the pies. Not good for his figure, his health or his wife's nymphomania. Grasshoppers abound. Sheila's not happy, but she can cope until a larger, brown, red-eyed version hops onto her bed. Alan is unsympathetic and looking to visit the stables more often (to collect horse manure for their crops - a likely story!) Tensions mount (unlike Alan and Sheila) and Mrs Alton starts having bad dreams and migraines. There's only one cure - whisky! To escape his parents' rows, David takes to wandering the local countryside. One day he comes across the disgusting remains of Mac, a cheery artificial Scots tramp. Shortly afterwards forest ranger Peter Ditton and his yellow labrador Kanga discover denuded fields - and meet with unfortunate ends. So begins a GNS' When Animals Attack goody. Locusts are certainly pretty creepy looking close up (see the original Hamlyn cover) and definitely biblical (see The Abominable Dr Phibes). Fairly ineffectual on their tod, when massed together they become unstoppable. Secure in your house? Not if you've wooden doors or windows. And if the six-legged psychos run out of vegetation, wood, cloth and the like - there's always flesh... At 230 pages GNS has a little more time for build up. Your fave WAA characters are here, and it's a gripping thriller. Not as delirious as some, but that gives it a touch more believablity. Borrowing heavily from The Birds (especially a couple of siege scenes) the book concentrates on events in Shropshire, with news broadcasts and the occasional vignette to show us that the problem is nationwide. A big up to our ineffectual expert, the splendidly named Roger Blade of the Anti Locust Research Centre. An expected anti-climatic ending can't spoil the fun.
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Post by franklinmarsh on Jun 13, 2008 11:49:45 GMT
PS I've got Crabs Moon!
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Post by killercrab on Jun 13, 2008 13:26:25 GMT
Damn - I'm gonna have to finish up the book now! Great review - *artificial* scots tramp - bwaahhh - great line! I remember him.:-)
KC
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Post by dem bones on Jun 13, 2008 20:44:43 GMT
I'll be surprised if you can't get into it this time, ade. Admittedly, he doesn't take it at the same breakneck speed as, say The Slime Beast but it's still pretty nifty by most people's standards. I'm up to p.64 now and LOADS has happened with the promise of plenty more to come, all of it grisly.
Poor old Mac the tramp has gone the way of all tramps in 'nasties' and died a particularly horrible death (the description of his corpse, as discovered by little David, is as delightfully ghoulish as anything I've read in a GNS novel), but never mind about that: what about Alan's treasured yucca plants? Completely ruined! If Alan was living in tropical climes as opposed to sunny Shropshire, he'd swear they'd been ravaged by locusts but that way lies madness, and now his permanently hysterical wife has taken to the booze again, he needs to keep his wits about him, 'specially if he's serious about getting his hands on Pat. A stroke of luck; her lardy husband Steve has been put out of action by a locust-crazed, stampeding stallion and she'd be awfully grateful if he'd collect her from Shrewsbury Hospital. Man, those jodhpurs are hanging on by a thread ...
Anyone fancy a tasty South American peach ....? There's a crate of them in the loft .....
P.S. Er, no, I haven't got Crabs Moon, ade. How does it rate against the rest?
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Post by franklinmarsh on Jun 13, 2008 20:51:57 GMT
Anyone got the original? Unless Dem's is the original?
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Post by killercrab on Jun 13, 2008 20:52:19 GMT
P.S. Er, no, I haven't got Crabs Moon, ade. How does it rate against the rest? >.
Oh you'll find out pal.:-)
Anyone got the original? Unless Dem's is the original? >.
Too damn full of fish and chip supper to operate my scanner... burp. I'll add another scan later FM!
Crab @ Chips
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Post by killercrab on Jun 14, 2008 0:02:29 GMT
LOCUSTS by Guy N. Smith - Hamlyn Paperbacks , 1979. Illustration by Josh Kirby. Before this onslaught the human population turns to flight.As panic grows , the death-toll rises and the whole country is plunged into chaos. Britain is being eaten alive. CAN NOTHING STOP THE LOCUSTS ?
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Post by dem bones on Jun 17, 2008 11:07:07 GMT
"My name's Alan Alton. Of ...er ... Chun. That's in Shropshire. I want to report a plague of locusts."
"Yes, sir. The exact location? Map reference, if possible."
Chief ranger Peter Ditton bows out in appalling circumstances, ] his faithful mutt Kanga similar, inadvertently taking a number of locusts with him when the petrol tank of his smashed land-rover explodes, setting Black Hill ablaze in the process. A lengthy pause for a loving gloat over the state of Ditton's charred corpse with severed head accessory and now we're back with Alan's dilemma. He still hasn't succumbed to the charms of the now widowed randy Pat, even though she's taken some tips from top sex-manual Confessions Of A Window Cleaner and enticed him into her bathroom while she's starkers in the tub and not a soap-sud in sight! Sheila was on the verge of going back to her mum's - taking David with her - but the forest fire has temporarily cut off their escape.
Even as Alan is on the phone to dashing Roger Blade of the Anti-Locust Research Centre telling him the score, a teeming swarm of locusts (in impressive skull formation) descend on the 'Get orf my gate!' household ....
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Post by killercrab on Jun 17, 2008 15:16:25 GMT
"Yes, sir. The exact location? Map reference, if possible." >.
It would be interesting to chart by year the disasters that befall Guy Smith's Black Hill ! Much like King uses Maine alot - Guy's stomping ground must be nearly de-populated by now.:-)
ade
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Post by dem bones on Jun 28, 2008 16:51:45 GMT
Now, where were we?
"Try to make the best of every disaster. There'll be plenty more before we're through."
Ain't that the truth?
Refreshed from a few days with the far easier on the brain Crab's Moon, it's time to return to one of Guy's more thoughtful reads, and, with less than 50 pages to go, the scene is set up nicely for .... The Siege Of Trencher's Farm - with locusts.
The eggheads have deployed a Dieldrin and sawdust concoction versus the rampaging insects but it's hardly a success; six pilot's lose their lives in operation big spray which only wipes out a few million of the bugs. The PM declares a national emergency and even then he's playing down the magnitude of the crisis. Famine is almost inevitable - for mankind at least: the locusts will be OK as they've developed a taste for human flesh.
Meanwhile, back at 'the Granary': He took his time about it, but Alan's token resistance finally evaporated in the face of Pat's terminally raunchy antics. Cue one of those supernaturally unsexy sex scenes that are as much a GNS trademark as the heroic pipe-smoking expert, "protrusions" in trousers, and - as ade points out above - Black Hill being wiped off the face of the earth for the umpteenth time. Complications: he's now a torn man: he wants to make another go of his marriage (Sheila's just come onto him for the first time since they moved to Shropshire: no shagging for ages and then twice - with different partners - in a few hours!) but he can't bear the thought of Pat winding up with Roger Blade of the Anti-Locust League, who she's also shagged. Mr. Blade is even now heading for Clum if he can only escape the almighty traffic snarl-up on the motorway. And now that oil-tanker has jack-knifed just up ahead. That's all you need! Especially when it goes .......'KA-BOOM!' .....
Who will live? Who will die? What fiendishly cunning, highly unlikely escapology act is Guy going to pull off at the eleventh hour this time? He wouldn't just leave the country at the mercy of an all-conquering army, would he?
Quite probably, this is a 'better' book than Crab's Moon on every level imaginable except for, arguably, the most important of all: maximum entertainment value. It certainly has it's moments (mostly those involving really lousy deaths) and I like the way the locusts look at you all evil, just like their spiteful crustacean soulmates in fact, but his style is maybe better suited to the unfussy, hell-for-leather approach of the early stuff.
But I'm still dead glad I read it!
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