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Post by humgoo on Jul 4, 2020 4:00:04 GMT
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Jul 4, 2020 11:20:22 GMT
That's outstanding news. Valancourt is one of the best horror publishers around these days, and the reference book of the same title (by Lisa Kröger and Melanie R. Anderson) is one of my favorite reads of the year so far.
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Post by humgoo on Jul 19, 2020 6:49:47 GMT
Details and TOC from Valancourt:
So only four authors. Would love to hear the experts' comments on the selection!
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Jul 19, 2020 12:48:40 GMT
Thanks for posting, Humgoo! Between the Melanie Anderson-edited Valancourt anthology and the Mike Ashley-edited British Library anthology, it's looking to be a great fall for weird tales by women writers.
I appreciate Anderson's focus on Greye La Spina, Everil Worrell, and Mary Elizabeth Counselman (there's also one Eli Colter story). Given or take C. L. Moore (who's more of a science fantasy writer) and Margaret St. Clair, those three may be my favorite women writers for the magazine. Even better, a number of the stories in the Valancourt book have never been anthologized, at least to my knowledge. No argument with the inclusion of Worrell's "The Canal" and La Spina's "Tne Antimacassar," either; those are both easier to find, but they're classics.
Part of me wishes Anderson had also included a St. Clair story and a G. G. Pendarves story, but I can't complain. This is a fantastic project on Valancourt's part.
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Post by dem on Jul 20, 2020 10:56:19 GMT
While you're waiting on an "expert" ... It makes good sense that Melanie Anderson has concentrated on three big hitters - and I agree, it's especially pleasing that she's strayed beyond the familiar greatest hits. Would love to see a vol 3, more so if it were selected from stories proposed by Mr. Brewer, who has long championed the 'Women of Weird Tales' cause. Failing that, a volume comprised of one story apiece from the aforementioned Margaret St. Clair and G. G. Pendarves, WT regulars 'Bassett Morgan'and Alison V Harding, augmented by curios from less celebrated, sometimes-contributors like Lois Lane, Myrtle Levy Gaylord, Katherine Yates, Lyllian Huntley Harris & Co. There's more mileage to be had from the theme, that's for sure.
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Nov 14, 2020 16:49:01 GMT
The Women of Weird Tales (Valancourt Books, 2020)
Introduction--Melanie R. Anderson The Remorse of Professor Panebianco--Greye La Spina (January 1925) Leonora--Everil Worrell (January 1927) The Dead Wagon--Greye La Spina (September 1927) The Canal--Everil Worrell (December 1927) The Curse of a Song--Eli Colter (March 1928) Vulture Crag--Everil Worrell (August 1928) The Rays of the Moon--Everil Worrell (September 1928) The Gray Killer--Everil Worrell (November 1929) The Black Stone Statue--Mary Elizabeth Counselman (December 1937) Web of Silence--Mary Elizabeth Counselman (November 1939) The Deadly Theory--Greye La Spina (May 1942) Great Pan is Here--Greye La Spina (November 1943) The Antimacassar--Greye La Spina (May 1949)
My copy of this anthology arrived a few days ago, and I'm excited to start digging into it.
The Remorse of Professor Panebianco--Greye La Spina Professor Panebianco longs to capture a human soul in his specially designed glass globe, but where can he find a willing subject? Well, his wife is both sickly and singularly devoted to him...
The not-so-good professor would fit right in with Hawthorne's and Machen's scientists, the ones who sacrifice their wife/daughter/ward in the name of their research. However, Panebianco stands out for how ready he is to wield a knife.
Leonora--Everil Worrell Leonara, who is sixteen and naive, meets a strange man while walking home at night. He offers her a ride in his fancy black car; she declines but hints that she'll meet him again beneath the full moon. Two meetings later, Leonara takes him up on his offer and finds herself on a journey to a place of death and madness.
This was Worrell's first story in Weird Tales. I'd read "Leonara" before in volume 5 of Robert Weinberg's Lost Fantasies, but I revisited it last night and am glad I did. The story has the same lush, doom-laden romanticism as Worrell's most famous tale, "The Canal" (which I'm also planning to reread when I get to it).
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Nov 15, 2020 15:25:22 GMT
It's time for the family curse portion of The Women of Weird Tales:
The Dead Wagon--Greye La Spina An American travels to England in the hopes of marrying Lord Melverson's daughter, only to learn that his beloved's family suffers under an old curse. First come red chalk marks to a door carving, followed by the apparition of a wagon driver who calls, "Bring out your dead!" (try not to think of Monty Python). Then the first-born son of the Melversons dies. It all goes back to the dark events that befell the family during the Great Plague of 1664.
The Curse of a Song--Eli Colter An Oregon family is haunted by the ghost of its patriarch's brother. Uncle Thad died in a rage while under the mistaken impression that his fiancé was two-timing with a traveling actor during piano practice (it's complicated, and that's not even getting into the amnesia part). The phantom manifests whenever anyone plays "Love's Old Sweet Song." Thad's niece, her fiancé, and the narrator try to subdue the ghost by playing the tune ad infinitum.
Of these two stories, I prefer La Spina's; it has an old school sort of charm. Colter's story feels a bit silly, though the 1920s Portland and Mt. Hood settings add a bit of distinctive character. I initially assumed that she had invented "Love's Old Sweet Song" for the story, but I was wrong:
After listening to the song, I agree with the young women in the story who "voted it sloppy and slow."
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Nov 15, 2020 17:14:01 GMT
Quoting Dem's summary of "The Canal" from the thread on the August Delerth anthology The Unquiet Grave (because it's a great summary, and for another reason too): Everil Worrell - The Canal: ( Weird Tales, Dec 1927). Morton is a man much given to solitary midnight strolls and is delighted when he comes upon a stretch of canal-way outside the sleeping city, even more-so when a strange and beautiful young woman calls to him from across the water. He offers to cross to her side but she is horrified at the suggestion. Instead, she will come to him some nights from now when the water has drained into the loch. The girl (unnamed throughout) explains that she lives here with her father and must keep watch by night as he does by day, for they have suffered persecution and been driven from the city. Morton has already fallen in love with this charming creature and unwisely vows to do her will in all things, learning too late that she is the girl in whose cabin a child's mutilated corpse was discovered, hence her flight. By the time she crosses the canal, Morton is aware that she is a vampire, and neither can disguise their hatred for the other. But he's given his word and must carry her across the bridge where she feasts upon the first unlucky stranger she asks for help while he watches jealously from the shadows. Morton realises he must destroy her, but first he wants to taste the vampire's bloody kiss. "Do you think you would be helping me to tie me to a desk, to shut me behind doors away from freedom, away from the delight of doing my own will, of seeking my own way? Rather this old boat, rather a deserted grave under the stars for my home!" A positive feeling of kinship with this strange being whose face I had hardly seen possessed me. So I myself might have spoken, so I had often felt though I had never dreamed of putting my thoughts so forcibly. My regular and daytime life was a thing little thought of. I really lived only in my nocturnal prowling. The girl was right. All life should be free!"A half century later, throw in a neat leather jacket and a spiky haircut and that would be mantra of The Lost Boys. A few observations on "The Canal," which is possibly the gothiest story Weird Tales ever printed: First, I recently learned that there are multiple versions of the story (as discussed in this excellent Tor.com article). If I'm getting my facts straight: * There's the original version published in Weird Tales in 1927 (and available for free at Wikisource), which features an ending with a bat-cave full of vampires plus a coda about how the narrator plans to dynamite the cave. * There's also a rewritten version that Derleth included in two of his anthologies (1947's The Sleeping and the Dead and 1963's The Unquiet Grave) which features a lower-key ending with no bat-cave; in this version ( also available on Wikisource), the narrator plans to kill the vampire girl with a wooden sword before he dies. It sounds like this is the version Dem read. I had previously only read the original version (in other, non-Derleth edited anthologies), and in my mind it's the superior version (partly because it makes more sense, given the vampire girl's telepathic powers; partly because it's pulpier). To complicate matters further, the version printed in The Women of Weird Tales includes the part about the bat-cave but omits the coda with the dynamite! Second, I was intrigued to read that Worrell attended George Washington University in DC (where I used to teach) and later worked at the US Treasury Department. Based on this information (and my own experience living in the area), my hunch is that the canal in the story may have been inspired by the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal, which runs from DC into Maryland. An additional piece of evidence comes from everyone's favorite online encyclopedia, which notes that a 1924 flood damaged the C&O Canal and led to its abandonment--that fits with the dilapidated state of the canal in the story (the water is stagnant, and no one has bothered to remove a wrecked barge from it; also, the narrator describes "the old tow-path where mules had drawn river-boats up and down only a year or so ago"). To be fair, this is all speculation on my part; the narrator never names the city where the story is set, and Worrell moved around so much in her life that she'd probably seen her fair share of canals. Third, "The Canal" holds a special place in my heart as one of the stories that launched my passion for the pulp horrors of Weird Tales (particularly the works of writers less famous than HPL, REH, and CAS) . I remembered it being good, but until rereading it last night I'd forgotten just how eerie and compelling it is. At first, it seems like a darkly romantic story; as it goes along, however, it takes on a much darker aspect.
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Post by andydecker on Nov 15, 2020 20:29:22 GMT
The story was new to me, so thanks for the link. I see what you mean. The re-written version kills half of what makes this story so remarkable. The visit on the boat where he finds the father's corpse, the decision to destroy the cave which will also kill all those in the tents. (If I understood this right) and also the prospect of burying the vampire girl alive or, well, undead. All pretty radical.
And the editing made it conventional. A wooden stake? How boring.
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Post by Dr Strange on Nov 16, 2020 0:36:29 GMT
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Post by dem on Nov 16, 2020 6:18:46 GMT
* There's the original version published in Weird Tales in 1927 (and available for free at Wikisource), which features an ending with a bat-cave full of vampires plus a coda about how the narrator plans to dynamite the cave. * There's also a rewritten version that Derleth included in two of his anthologies (1947's The Sleeping and the Dead and 1963's The Unquiet Grave) which features a lower-key ending with no bat-cave; in this version ( also available on Wikisource), the narrator plans to kill the vampire girl with a wooden sword before he dies. It sounds like this is the version Dem read. The non-dynamite ending is definitely the one I read, CB, via the half of Sleeping and the Dead NEL reissued as The Unquiet Grave, same again in James Dickie's The Undead. A quick squizz at the ending confirms Weinberg/ Dziemainowicz/Greenberg axis stick with the original in Weird Vampire Tales.
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Nov 16, 2020 14:57:23 GMT
A quick squizz at the ending confirms Weinberg/ Dziemainowicz/Greenberg axis stick with the original in Weird Vampire Tales. So does the Douglas A. Anderson-edited H. P. Lovecraft's Favorite Weird Tales, which is where I first encountered "The Canal."
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Nov 17, 2020 13:57:09 GMT
Vulture Crag--Everil Worrell So if your mysterious new friend Count Zaloni drives you to an abandoned house at a place named Vulture Crag, hits you up for a loan so he can build astral projection-based space exploration technology, coins the term "dormuary" (you know, like "mortuary," only sleepier) for the storage unit that will house the astral travelers, and tries to woo your fiancé, should you stick with your plan to take part in his project? Asking for a friend!
"Vulture Crag" falls squarely into the mad science genre, complete with an angry mob storming the castle (or, in this case, mansion), and comes as a letdown after the evocative goth romanticism of "Leonara" and "The Canal." On the plus side, the vultures get to peck out people's eyes, and Mid-Atlantic folks may appreciate the Maryland Eastern Shore setting.
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Post by Jojo Lapin X on Nov 17, 2020 18:21:10 GMT
Vulture Crag--Everil WorrellSo if your mysterious new friend Count Zaloni drives you to an abandoned house at a place named Vulture Crag, hits you up for a loan so he can build astral projection-based space exploration technology, coins the term "dormuary" (you know, like "mortuary," only sleepier) for the storage unit that will house the astral travelers, and tries to woo your fiancé, should you stick with your plan to take part in his project? Asking for a friend! "Vulture Crag" falls squarely into the mad science genre, complete with an angry mob storming the castle (or, in this case, mansion), and comes as a letdown after the evocative goth romanticism of "Leonara" and "The Canal." On the plus side, the vultures get to peck out people's eyes, and Mid-Atlantic folks may appreciate the Maryland Eastern Shore setting. How do you know about my mysterious new friend Count Zaloni?
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Nov 17, 2020 18:27:23 GMT
The Rays of the Moon--Everil Worrell Morton (who is presumably not the Morton from "The Canal") is a former medical student--and a sociopath who ditched his fiancé when her devotion to him grew tiresome. She reacted by pining away in the old fashion. His friend Browne came to a bad end, too; he died of septicemia after accidentally cutting himself while dissecting a charwoman he'd prematurely turned into a cadaver. Learning from his buddy's example, Morton decides to dig up a corpse from a nearby cemetery for his own experiments. But when the moon's rays fall upon the dead woman he's unearthed, our protagonist finds himself on a mystical journey to the dead surface of the moon--the place to which cursed souls are drawn. An ironic (if obvious) revelation awaits him.
After the weird science of "Vulture Crag," Worrell returns to what she does best: morbid romanticism gone wrong. "The Rays of the Moon' doesn't match "Leonora" or "The Canal," but it's still a solid tale with some striking language and imagery. Next up is "The Gray Killer," which I'm eager to read based on Dem's recommendation earlier in the thread.
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