Book Review: Neighbors

Celebrating Pride Month, June 2022

Book Review: 'Neighbors' by Russell O'Neil

2 / 5 Stars

Here at the PorPor Books Blog, we like to celebrate Pride Month by reviewing a book, fiction or nonfiction, that illuminates the LGBTQ Experience. For June 2022, we're reviewing 'Neighbors', by Russell O'Neil.

I couldn't find much information online about O'Neil; a brief New York Times obituary from December, 1991 is, unfortunately, Paywalled. Perusing a listing of works by O'Neil brings up the 1979 Paperback from Hell, titled Venom, about snakes loose in New York City. O'Neil published other horror, comedy, and melodrama novels during the 70s and 80s.

'Neighbors' (269 pp.) was published in May 1972 by Paperback Library; the cover artist is uncredited. 

The novel takes place in the early 1970s, and is set in the bedroom community of Hainesdale, New Jersey. 

In a particularly tranquil part of town sits the 15-room Robinson Cartwright Mansion, empty since the passing of the formidable Ms. Robinson Cartwright. Adjacent to the mansion are three houses, all constructed on the former grounds of the Mansion. Occupying these houses are eponymous Neighbors: Joe and Peg Jablonski, Cynthia and Herb Radnor, and Tom and Ethel Parker. The three families all are fast friends, and spend several days a week socializing.

The harmony of this little subdivision is altered when George Carr, Ms. Cartwright's nephew, takes up occupancy of the Mansion. George is a cultured, middle-aged man of commendable comportment. And sharing the Mansion with him are his very good friend, the blonde actor and author Michael Kaye. And their lithe, young, curly-haired Italian butler and cook, Gian-Carlo........

As white, straight, and suburban as they come, even the Neighbors recognize that their new neighbors are, to put it bluntly, 'fags'. But George mounts a charm offensive - inviting the families to dinner and drinks, and impressing all with his urbane charm. And Michael, learning that the Radnor's 15 year-old son David is an aspiring writer, takes him under his wing.

All seems well, as the Neighbors learnt to adjust to, and even enjoy, the presence of people with an Alternative Lifestyle. But little does George know that when he decides to have an utterly fabulous party on a fine Summer night, the actions of his guests, and the Neighbors, will lead to a moment of crisis that forever will change the lives of all in Hainesdale.........

I found 'Neighbors' to be underwhelming. While its sympathetic treatment of the gay characters could be considered enlightened for a novel of its era, the fact is, the narrative is reliant on lengthy passages of dialogue, which often are stilted, and designed to inform the reader that beneath the seeming blandness of the suburbs, our Neighbors are grappling with 'heavy' early 70s issues: the Generation Gap, Conformity Vs Nonconformity, the use of drugs ('grass'), and ambivalence about the value of the Marriage Contract. 

A constant diet of these melodramatic exchanges induces boredom early on in the narrative. And while our two gay heroes are exempt from the troubles of their straight Neighbors, much attention also is given to documenting bitchy arguments between George and Michael, sparked by their realization that they are growing older and their days of carefree indulgences are drawing to a close.

The closing chapters of the novel bring a sharper note of drama to the proceedings, and author O'Neil refuses to supply any sort of requisite happy ending. But by the time the denouement arrived, I was dulled by the constant exposure to melodramatic dialogue passages, and concluded that the novel is a good 50 to 75 pages too long.  

The verdict ? 'Neighbors' is another entry in the 'suburban melodrama' genre, a genre that perhaps reached its apogee with the 1999 movie American Beauty. While the inclusion of some gay characters gives 'Neighbors' a point of view that was imaginative for 1972, I can't call it a gem of undiscovered LGBTQ fiction, and modern readers likely will find the novel to be dated and plodding.  

Wild Palms comic

Wild Palms comic
by Bruce Wagner (writer) and Julian Allen (artist)

If you're over 30, you probably might remember the TV show Wild Palms that aired on ABC TV for five episodes in May of 1993. The show, set in a near-future Los Angeles, was meant to be a melange of cyberpunk and Southern California satire. 

The plot was utterly incoherent, and the show was deemed a failure, but for a brief period there in the Spring of 1993 it was the focus of a major marketing campaign, and had something of a buzz. This was back when there were no streaming channels, so any 'edgy' or 'unusual' content appearing on TV had to come from the networks.

The TV show is memorable nowadays mainly for featuring a cameo from William Gibson:

Wild Palms was based on a comic strip that was serialized in 1990 - 1993 in Details magazine.

Details was a kind of cross between the glossy cheesecake magazines like FHM and Maxim, and the more staid Esquire.

The comic, more so than the TV show, was intended by writer Wagner to emphasize how the introduction of 'virtual reality' could corrupt one's perception of 'true' reality, a task made easier in the comic's setting of Southern California, which is, of course, itself something of an 'artificial construct'.

In 1993 the comic strips were compiled into a trade paperback published by the UK firm Arrow. The trade paperback, long out of print, can only be had for exorbitant prices. Luckily, the entire volume has been scanned and posted to View Comics website.

I can't say that the comic is a masterpiece of 1990s sci-fi, or even 1990s melodrama; it is badly overwritten, with few panels left unmolested by the presence of text boxes. 

But the comic does have a sort of quirky originality, and showcases, with its flat color scheme and low-res, sketchy pencils, the very 1990s art style of illustrator Allen.

Summing up, if you are fond of pop culture detritus from the early 1990s, including detritus lightly flavored with second-generation cyberpunk tropes, then the Wild Palms comic might be worth a look.  

Book Review: Other Edens

Book Review: 'Other Edens' edited by Christopher Evans and Robert Holdstock

1 / 5 Stars

'Other Edens (237 pp.) was published in the UK in 1987. The cover artist is uncredited.

The two follow-up editions in the series are 'Other Edens II' (1988), and 'Other Edens III' (1989).

In their Introduction, editors Evans and Holdstock state that they intend 'Other Edens' to be a showcase for new and imaginative short fiction, in the genres of science fiction and fantasy, by British authors (the American contributor Lisa Tuttle is included because she lives and works in the UK). 

The editors note that the contemporary British market for science fiction short stories has been anemic, and see 'New Edens' as critical to addressing this problem.

My capsule summaries of the contents: 

Crying in the Rain, by Tanith Lee: life is bleak in a future UK where the environment is steeped in toxic chemicals. An effective tale from Lee, although it is so downbeat it almost veers into parody.

The Facts of Life, by Christopher Evans: on a low-tech colony planet, misogyny is the law of the land. This story works as a polemic, but as a sci-fi tale, it's underwhelming.

Small Heirlooms, by M. John Harrison: Kit travels to her late brother's house, reads his unpublished manuscripts, and has some metaphysical moments. Meh. A disappointing entry from Harrison.

The Emir's Clock, by Ian Watson: a medieval time piece has a message for modern man. An unremarkable tale, made tedious by overwriting.

The Price of Cabbages, by Brian Aldiss: a novelette that combines faster-than-light space travel, time dilation, and .........deliveries of interstellar produce ?! 

Aldiss is not in very good form here. Why a story this bad was selected for 'Other Edens' is a mystery. One piece of dialogue consists of the phrase 'Fecundate me !', while elsewhere, for reasons unexplained, Aldiss uses the word 'ubianter' in place of 'computer'. Amplifying the mediocrity is Aldiss's Old-Man creepy portrayal of a young girl, a theme that was not all that unusual by the standards of sci-fi written in the second half of the 20th century (when editors and authors were less Woke).

Fullwood's Web, by Graham Charnock: a mathematician and an engineer team up to do some research into a very novel 'field effect'. There are consequences. A traditional sci-fi tale that would have been at home in Analog in 1963.

Scarrowfell, by Robert Holdstock: a charming village in rural England, a festival to celebrate Lord's Eve, quaint Aulde Tyme customs involving Morris dancers, processions, and pagan ceremonies...........what could possibly go wrong ?! 'Scarrowfell' takes its time unfolding, but it's the best story in the anthology and a touchstone entrant in the nowadays-popular sub-genre of 'Folk Horror'. 

The Frozen Cardinal, by Michael Moorcock: on a distant planet, a team exploring ice formations makes a startling discovery. Here, Moorcock tries to present a mystery, wrapped in the trappings of outward absurdity. As a 'speculative fiction' piece it might have worked in 1965, but not in 1987....... 

Triptych: The Black Wedding; Murderer's Walk; Hogfoot Right and Bird Hands, by Garry Kilworth: three short, unrelated exercises in 'speculative fiction'. One of them deals with marital frictions. Yawn. They may have made sense in 1977, but in an anthology published in 1987, they seem like re-warmed leftovers...........leftovers that should have been discarded a long time ago.

Sanctity, by R. M. Lamming: in a near-future UK, church and religion are outlawed. An interesting premise, but the denouement is too oblique to be effective.

Moonlighter, by David S. Garnett: frustrated husband Alan discovers a unique strategy for getting into his reluctant wife's knickers. The sci-fi element in this story is pretty much a thin coating, applied to a tale satirizing marital relations. 

In A Land of Sand and Ruin and Gold, by David Langford: in a far future utopia, two lotus eaters discover the pain of Real Love. Sigh. A precious tale exploring humanism in a manner that would have been entirely at home in a New Wave anthology published in 1972.

Piper's Wait, by Keith Roberts: I confess I didn't have big expectations for this piece from Roberts, anticipating it to be well-written in terms of characterization, setting, and atmosphere, but with indifferent plotting. And that's exactly what 'Piper's Wait' is: a fable about medieval England, and quasi-mythical personalities, that never really goes anywhere once you get past the heavily poetic, lyrical prose style.

The Wound, by Lisa Tuttle: two divorced / separated schoolteachers enter into a close friendship in a near-future world where, strangely, people involuntarily change their gender in response to affection. Author Tuttle plainly intended this story to be a thoughtful, perhaps even provocative, exploration of love, and humanism, and gender. But 'The Wound' is so devoid of any science fiction sensibility, that it simply reads as a rather contrived melodrama. 

I finished reading 'Other Edens' aware that the anthology is utterly and completely devoid of any cyberpunk sensibility. 

For an anthology published in 1987 this is a major quirk. In 1984 Neuromancer was nominated for a British Science Fiction Award, and in 1985 it won both the Hugo and Nebula Awards in the USA. So, presumably every contributor to 'Other Edens' well was aware of the revitalizing effect cyberpunk had brought to sci-fi in the US. And yet, 'Other Edens' reads as a collection of New Wave tales that somehow missed out on being included in anthologies issued in the early 1970s.

Perhaps 'Other Edens' disinclination to address cyberpunk, and that genre's renewed emphasis on plotting, and the integration of 'street level' sci-fi elements into stories, is a reflection of the editor's choice of contributors, many of whom were established during the New Wave era (and presumably were too cool to be found jumping on the latest fads and fancies in the genre). However it may be, the entries in 'Other Edens' did not strike me as particularly impressive.

Summing up, this is an entirely forgettable anthology of UK sci-fi from the mid-80s. I can state with complete and utter confidence that any story in the coeval anthologies Mirrorshades and Burning Chrome is far and away superior to any of the entries in 'Other Edens'.

The Art of the Brothers Hildebrandt

The Art of the Brothers Hildebrandt
by Ian Summers
Ballantine Books, 1979 

Greg and Tim Hildebrandt were twins, born in Detroit on January 23, 1939 (Tim died of complications from diabetes in June, 2006). They exhibited an artistic disposition and a love for the genres of science fiction and fantasy at an early age. 

After graduating high school they both served in the Army, then enrolled in the Meinzinger School of Art in Detroit. They went to work as animators at the Jam Handy Company, which specialized in making instructional films. The brothers later relocated to rural New Jersey, where they converted a barn into a studio and acquired commissions to illustrate children's books.

The brothers pose for reference photographs

As Summers relates in his Introduction, in the Fall of 1974 Rita Hildebrandt, Tim's wife, saw a copy of the Ballantine Books J. R. R. Tolkien calendar, and the brothers decided to pay a visit to Ian Summers, the art director at Ballantine Books who was in charge of picking an artist for the 1976 edition of the calendar. 

On February 7, 1975, the brothers - lacking an appointment - persuaded Summers' secretary to let them into his office to display their drafts for the calendar. The brothers toted black plastic garbage bags filled with some 50 black-and-white sketches on coffee-stained tissue paper. Summers, who had already looked through a substantial number of submissions without finding any to his liking, immediately was impressed with the work of the Hildebrandts. 

Apache Devil, 1975

Summers offered the brothers a commission for the calendar and the rest, as they say, was history: when the 1976 J. R. R. Tolkien calendar came out later that year, it was a best-seller, and made the brothers household names among the burgeoning community of fantasy fans.

The Fellowship of the Ring, 1976 J. R. R. Tolkien calendar 

'The Art of the Brothers Hildebrandt' (1979) showcases color and black-and-white reproductions of paintings done by the brothers for commercial media such book covers, calendars, and movie posters (i.e., Star Wars). There also are some personal works from the brothers.

Illustration for The Sword of Shannara, 1977

Given that the works of Hildebrandts nowadays are iconic, it's important to remember that at the time they appeared, in the mid-70s, they were revolutionary in the sense of firmly departing from the highly figurative imagery that previously had characterized commercial fantasy art. 

For example, Tim Kirk's pieces for the 1974 J. R. R. Tolkien calendar were reminiscent of the works of 19th century children's book illustrators like Arthur Rackham and Edmund Dulac. 

Illustration by Tim Kirk for the 1974 J. R. R. Tolkien calendar, from https://www.blackgate.com/2021/06/08/first-impressions-tim-kirks-1975-tolkien-calendar/

The works by the Hildebrandts were very much representational art, reminiscent of the styles of classical illustrators like Howard Pyle and N. C. Wyeth. Their illustration for the front cover of the 1976 science fiction anthology Stellar 2 (below), for example, was eye-catching by virtue of contrasting with the more abstract compositions that usually appeared on the covers of science fiction paperbacks of that era. 

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, 1974

Cover illustration for Stellar 2, 1976

The brothers' profile only grew when they provided the iconic poster illustration for the 1977 film Star Wars.

Star Wars, 1977

Summing up, if you are a fan of sci-fi and fantasy art of the 1970s, then you'll want to have a copy of 'The Art of the Brothers Hildebrandt', or perhaps some of the other volumes that showcase the Brothers (although some of these, such as 'Star Wars: The Art of the Brothers Hildebrandt' [1997], now have steep asking prices).

Book Review: In the Forest of the Night

 May is No Place for Gringos Month !

Book Review: 'In the Forest of the Night' by Ron Faust

5 / 5 Stars

'In the Forest of the Night' first was published in 1993. This paperback edition (326 pp.) was published by Tor Books in April, 1994, and features cover art by Richard Andri.

Ron Faust (b. 1936) has published 15 novels between 1974 and 2013. Some of these feature the investigator 'Dan Shaw', and many are set in the southern US, the Caribbean, and Central and South America. 'Nowhere to Run' (1981) is the story of an American drifter who finds himself accused of murder while eking out a living in a Mexican resort town, and thus belongs to the 'No Place for Gringos' sensibility.

'In the Forest of the Night' is set in the early 1990s in an un-named Central American country. There is a civil war waging between the authoritarian government and a coalition of Marxist rebels. The American physician Martin Springer has gone South of the Border in order to minister to the medical needs of the rural population. However, this act of virtue is disregarded by the Marxistas, who decide to capture and execute him, allegedly for witnessing something the Marxistas would prefer be kept concealed. 

As the novel opens, Springer is imprisoned in the bell tower of the Church of San Pedro de los Martires church in the impoverished town of Tepazatlan.......certainly no situation any gringo wants to be in. The time of his execution ? Well, próximamente, of course:

The morning was bright, none had ever been more purely brilliant, and yet Martin had difficulty seeing. It was like looking through another's eyeglasses, clear on the periphery but blurred in the center.........

A dog limped around the corner of the tower, a yellowish bitch nearly bald with mange. Its ribs and vertebrae were outlined against the skin. It halted and stood splay-legged for a moment, staring, and then, lowering its head and tail, slunk back around the tower.

Springer's wife, a beautiful blue-eyed blonde woman named Katherine, travels to the capital city in the hopes of arranging for her husband's release. She meets a dissipated American reporter named Dix, and a U.S. embassy staffer named Harley, who are not optimistic about her chances. And then there is Senor Jorge Cabeza de Vaca, '.....some sort of policeman, and very powerful in the government.' Transfixed with the thought of a mujer rubia as a supplicant for his graces, Senor Cabeza de Vaca assures Katherine he can free her husband. Soon. Very soon. Manana, in fact ! 

What a naive Katherine Springer doesn't realize is that South of the Border, the laws and proprieties observed in the United States do not apply. And Senor Cabeza de Vaca never grants favors without wanting something in return...........

I'm not giving away any spoilers to say that Martin Springer manages to evade death at the hands of the Marxistas. But that is hardly the end of his troubles, for he and his wife are going to discover that Central America is indeed No Place for Gringos...........

'Forest' is an entertaining thriller. The author uses a spare, declarative prose style in his depictions of the environs of the cities and countrysides where the story unfolds, and the actions of his large cast of characters. His dialogue passages are terse and to the point. As well, the political pontifications that occupy so much of another 'Central America is a Gringo Hell' novel, David Linsey's 'Body of Truth', are absent in 'Forest'; Faust does provide political observations, but these are infrequent, and couched with irony rather than tumid indignation.

The only fault I found in the narrative was that the advancement of the plot too regularly relied on rather stupid decision-making on the part of the lead characters. But maybe gringos get in trouble South of Border precisely because they are estupido.........?! 

'Forest' features a motif not frequently found in gringo dramas: humor, this in the form of the boisterous colonel Felipe Fuerte, a rebel officer whose loyalty revolves around monetary rewards, rather than ideological fulfillment. Fuerte, as Martin Springer will discover, is a good man to have on your side when adversity presents itself.

The verdict ? 'In the Forest of the Night' is the best of the No Place for Gringos novels that I have read. It provides a believable portrait of what it is to be isolated and helpless in a country where caudillos hold power, and their slightest order must be obeyed. The closing chapters are genuinely suspenseful, all the more so because Faust never tips his hand as to the outcome. This is a book worth searching out.

The Civil War Between the Negroes and the Jews

'The Civil War Between the Negroes and the Jews !'

by John Hughes (story) and George Evans (art)

from National Lampoon, January 1980

Ahhh, yes......if you are a contemporary reader, then this comic from National Lampoon is either gravely offensive, or very funny, depending on your point of view. But back at the beginning of 1980, it was simply 'humorous'.......

Before he became famous for directing films such as National Lampoon's Vacation, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Home Alone, Hughes (1950 - 2009) was a prolific contributor to the magazine. 

Artist George Evans (1920 - 2001) worked for EC comics, Classics Illustrated, and both Marvel and DC as well as the Lampoon.

Success by John Workman

'Success' by John Workman

from Wild Things (Metro Comics, 1986)

Book Review: Incident at La Junta

 May is No Place for Gringos Month !

Book Review: 'Incident at La Junta' by Oliver Lange 

2 / 5 Stars

'Incident at La Junta' (208 pp.) was published by Pocket Books in June, 1974, with a cover illustration by Hector Garrido. 

Oliver Lange (1927 - 2013) was the pseudonym of the U.S. author John Warren Wadleigh, who wrote a number of thrillers over the interval from 1958 to 1989. His 1971 novel 'Vandenberg' may have been an inspiration for the 1984 film Red Dawn, about resistance to a Soviet invasion of the U.S. Although Lange apparently never lived in Mexico, he did live for a time in a remote area of New Mexico.

'Incident at La Junta' is set in rural Mexico in the early 1970s (La Junta is a real village, located in the Municipality of Guerrero in the State of Chihuahua). Two Young Americans, Keith and Jocelyn, are driving a Volkswagen van around South of the Border in a somewhat haphazard effort to avoid interrogation at the hands of the FBI. It seems that despite their wholesome, Southern California appearances, Keith and Jocelyn have been involved in Weathermen- style domestic terrorism, mainly as an excuse for something wild and groovy to do. With the law closing in, they decide it's best to load up on firearms and traveler's checks, and relocate someplace where the FBI isn't likely to follow.

Once in La Junta things take a turn for the worse for our duo. The chief of police, the corpulent Chief Jimenez, is very much the law of the land and disinclined to observe Americano niceties such as Civil Rights and Due Process. And while Dr. Montenegro is a friendly enough man, with an advanced education and a fluency in English, he increasingly is worried about the advent of a febrile illness among the campesinos in the countryside. Worried enough to demand that a quarantine be imposed on La Junta and its environs. 

As Keith and Jocelyn are about to discover, La Junta during a disease outbreak definitely is No Place for Gringos..........

'Incident at La Junta' was a disappointment. While the cover blurbs would lead the reader to believe it's a thriller, in actuality it's a South of the Border treatment of the Camus novel 'The Plague'. This is unfortunate, since the novel's premise would have made for an engaging exploration of Mexican noir, generating a novel that could perhaps have been a predecessor to Kem Nunn's 2004 novel 'Tijuana Straits'. 

 Author Lange too-quickly abandons the book's fugitives-out-of-their-depth storyline to adopt a leisurely, meandering exploration of the effects of the epidemic and its quarantine on the inhabitants of La Junta. 

Jocelyn, in particular, becomes the novel's focus. The reader is made to understand, in labored fashion, that she is an exemplar of the self-absorbed, self-indulgent way of life Americans have come to expect as a natural state of being (indeed, at one point in the novel Jocelyn hums the New Seekers I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing, which in 1971 came to be an advertisement for Coca-Cola, to herself). 

Much contrasting is made between the earthy realism with which the Mexicanos live their lives amid the poverty and insularity of their village, and the casual ignorance that marks the behavior of the American protagonists as they blunder  their way through a country they are ill-equipped to understand.

The bulk of the narrative is given to internal monologues and philosophical conversations, which soon become tedious. It doesn't help matters that Lange imposes of some stilted, inane prose on his readers:

"'Cause Mananaland's a veritable sportsman's paradise ! It says so in all the tour books," Keith said. "After all, Jocey, I shot my first Canadian goose when I was eight."

"God save my soul," Jocelyn said drearily. "I've got a freaking sportsman on my hands." She sneered at him. "Blasting little chippies. What's in it ?"

"Thrill of the hunt. Pukka sahib ! A Jungian to my caveman heritage", Keith said agreeably. "It turns you off ?"

"It do indeed."

"Why, there was a time, Jocey, when you would have done in half the country if you'd had the chance. But popping off a lil' bitsy bird - "

"Not on your life", she maintained.

By the time I got to the closing chapters of 'Incident' I was simply trying to finish the book. There is something of a 'shock' denouement, but at that point in my journey through the pages of 'Incident' I didn't really care.

Summing up, those interested in an existential presentation of rural Mexico, featuring a cast of idiosyncratic characters, may find 'Incident at La Junta' rewarding, but I suspect everyone else can avoid this novel without penalty.

In Midlothian

In Midlothian

So I drove about 90 minutes to a used bookstore in Midlothian, Virginia, a western suburb of Richmond. I hadn't been there in about two years. I was astonished at all the development going on and how jammed traffic was, in the afternoon on a weekday, no less. 

I picked up a pretty good selection of paperbacks.

A new Qdoba restaurant has opened in the area (photo below) and I was determine to stop in. I last patronized the chain ten years ago (!), at a restaurant in Clive, a suburb of Des Moines. I would drive down to Clive from my home in Ames to go to the Half-Price Books store in Clive, and for lunch, I'd stop in at a nearby Qdoba. 

The Midlothian Qdoba served the food as I remembered it. Kind of like Chipotle. It was good. 

All in all, a nice way to spend a humid, rainy Spring day.........

Match Point of Our Love

'Match Point of Our Love'

The Beach Boys, 1978

The Beach Boys' album M.I.U. was released in September, 1978. It is not considered one of their best albums. Mike Love, who had positioned himself as the leader of the band, insisted on recording it in a small town in Iowa on the campus of the Maharishi International University. 

Dennis and Carl Wilson were barely involved in the recording process, and Brian Wilson was in poor health; he later would claim he didn't remember making the album.

That said, at least one track on the album, 'Match Point of Our Love', stands the test of time as a catchy, AM radio-friendly song. Brian Wilson wrote the song (which features lyrics dedicated to tennis themes), and provided lead vocals. It's worth a listen..........