Book Review: Black Butterflies

Book Review: 'Black Butterflies' by John Shirley

5 / 5 Stars

 

'Black Butterflies' (350 pp.) first was published in hardcover in May, 1998, by Mark Ziesing. This mass-market paperback edition was published by Leisure Books in March, 2001. The cover artist is uncredited.

While John Shirley is a founding figure in the genre of cyberpunk, he also forayed into the genres of horror and splatterpunk, with his 1982 novel 'Cellars' an early entry in the splat world. He continued to produce horror fiction, such as the novel 'Wetbones,' during the late 1980s and throughout the 1990s, a reasonable-enough decision in light of the boom times of the Paperbacks from Hell era. 

 

Most of the stories collected in 'Butterflies' first saw publication in various 1990s Paperbacks from Hell short story anthologies, such as 'Borderlands,' 'Hotter Blood: More Tales of Erotic Horror,' and 'Forbidden Acts,' while other tales are seeing print for the first time. 

'Butterflies' is divided into two sections, 'This World,' and 'That World.' The idea is that the stories that are more grounded in the real world are presented in the former section, while more outre works are presented in the latter section.

 

Anyone sitting down with this book should realize that Shirley isn't holding back with these stories; they are undiluted splat, the literary equivalent of Shirley picking his nose and proudly displaying the bloody booger thus extracted, for the all world to see. The overwhelming majority of the characters in these stories are the most rancid collection of human beings I've ever encountered. If you are a Humanist, you will want to stay far, far away from Shirley's 'Black Butterflies.'

My capsule summaries of the contents:

Barbara (from 'Dark Love,' 1995): two gangstas find their carjacking victim has a mind of her own.

 

War and Peace (from 'Fear Itself,' 1995): misadventures of crooked cops.

 

You Hear What Buddy and Ray Did ? (from 'Forbidden Acts,' 1995): two thugz stage an orgy in a wealthy man's house; things do not end well.

 

Answering Machine (1998): a transcript of an answering machine message. The message is not particularly salutary.

 

The Rubber Smile (from 'Predators,' 1993): a homage to gorehounds, 42nd Street grindhouses, and slasher films. What more do you want ?!

 

The Footlite (1998): the characters at the eponymous dive bar demonstrate that love among the degenerate has its peculiarities. The ending is disgusting, even by splat standards............

 

Cram (from 'Wetbones,' 1997): only Shirley could meld a Mass Casualty Event with sex. Yuck !

 

What Would You Do for Love ? (1998): high school English teacher Darry is something of a square, trapped in a sinking marriage. When he meets a wild n' crazy, punk-rocker, dyed-blonde chick named Marla, things get exciting. A little too exciting, perhaps..........this is one of the less transgressive tales in 'Black Butterflies,' relying more on humor, than graphic sex and violence.

 

Delia and the Dinner Party (from 'Borderlands,' 1990): a little girl's imaginary friend shows her the true nature of the adults in her life, and the revelation isn't pretty.

 

Pearldoll (from 'Hotter Blood: More Tales of Erotic Horror,' 1991): the opening paragraph of this story had me simultaneously wincing and laughing out loud, no easy thing to do. 'Pearldoll' is about a hooker who reconnects with an old boyfriend, who 'everybody said' was dead. The denouement would've had Charles L. Grant reaching for a barf bag........... 

 

Woodgrains (from 'Obsessions,' 1991): satirical tale of an Art Fart who, seeking to revive his creative energy, opts to get some tattoos. Very unusual tattoos, as it turns out.......

 

The Exquisitely Bleeding Heads of Doktur Palmer Vreedeez (1998): dark satire about 1990s celebrities who find themselves in desperate straits.

 

Flaming Telepaths (from 'Shock Rock,' 1992): at the Black Glass rock club, a concert gets interrupted by events that are..........positively Biblical.

 

How Deep the Taste of Love (from 'Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror,' 1993): newly single Sid Drexel is looking for love at Tuffys, 'The Hottest Little Singles Bar in the Bay Area.' He meets Sindra, a woman with a strange, even disturbing, allure. In due course, Sid accompanies her home for some erotic action.

Within the first three pages of this story I knew a real gross-out was in the offing, and, a little later, it indeed arrived. I will say that the theme of 'How Deep' has been done better, most notably by Bob Shaw with his 1980 story 'Love Me Tender,' which de-emphasized the gross-out in favor of tighter plotting and prose.

 

Aftertaste (from 'Bones of the Children,' 1996): there's a new brand of crack, called 'silver top,' out on the streets of West Oakland. Silver top is very potent. So potent, in fact, that anyone who ODs on it comes back to life as a flesh-eating zombie..........!

 

Shirley is in fine form with this novelette:

 

Dwayne smelled base, someone smoking somewhere. Turned and saw Joleen in the front seat of a beat-up van, her head bobbing over some guy's lap.The guy firing a blast in a broken-off stem, the glow pulsing, lighting up a little blue skull tattoo on the guy's cheek, and showing his face. He was a big, dirty, yellow-haired white guy, a biker type, with an over-grown beard and matted hair; a biker who'd had to sell his bike for crack.

 

Black Hole Sun, Won't You Come ? (1998): a fable about Primut, who intends to be the Last Man on Earth, via killing everyone else. This is the weakest entry in the anthology.

 

The verdict ? With the exception of 'Doktur Palmer Vreedeez' and 'Black Hole Sun,' the stories in this anthology are solid forays into transgressive fiction: no Quiet Horror in these pages ! 'Black Butterflies' gets a Five Star rating.

Tales of an Imperfect Future

'Tales of an Imperfect Future'

by Alfonso Font

Dark Horse Books, November 2014

 

'Tales of an Imperfect Future' (88 pp.) was published as a hardbound graphic novel by Dark Horse books in 2014.

 

Spanish artist Alfonso Font (b. 1946) is a prolific illustrator of comics in a variety of genres, for publishers throughout Europe and the USA. A number of his works have been translated into English; my review of his 1982 graphic novel 'Prisoner of the Stars' is available here.  

 

My review of the UK comic 'Black Max,' which Font illustrated, is here.

 

'Tales of an Imperfect Future' is an English-language compilation of a series of science fiction comics, titled Cuentos de un futuro imperfecto, that Font did in 1980-1981 for the Spanish comic magazine (revista) 1984. 

 

Over the years, these comics have been collected in Spanish editions:

 

The Dark Horse edition has the rather attenuated resolution of the artwork, presumably because it was scanned from archived printed pages of the comics, rather than the original artwork. That said, the panels look decent enough, and you can see where Font incorporated some Zip-A-Tone.

 

Font's artwork has a looser and less ornate style, more in line with that of Jordi Bernet, than the other Spanish artists of the 1980s, such as Esteban Maroto, Jose Gonzalez, and Julio Ribera.

The plots for the six- and eight-page stories printed in 'Tales' reflect a mordant sensibility, with surprise endings popping up in the last panel or two of each story. The characters appearing in Font's work are often hapless victims of circumstance, or mankind's talent for self-destruction.

If you're looking for science fiction comics with a Heavy Metal magazine flavor, then 'Tales of an Imperfect Future' is a good investment.

Book Review: Harvest Home

Book Review: 'Harvest Home' by Thomas Tryon

2 / 5 Stars

Harvest Home' came out in hardback in 1973, with a paperback edition (415 pp.) issued by Fawcett Crest in June, 1974. Both editions feature cover art by Paul Bacon.

I remember reading this book way back in the early 70s, as a ‘Book of the Month’ club hardbound edition with the untrimmed page edges and cheaper binding (‘special book club edition’ indicated in small italic font on the inside flap of the dust jacket). In a fit of nostalgia, 50 years later I decided to take a second look at the novel.

Thomas Tryon was one of a triumvirate of authors, such as Ira Levin (‘Rosemary’s Baby’) and William Peter Blatty (‘The Exorcist’), who were on the leading edge of the horror fiction movement back in the late 60s – early 70s. Tryon’s previous novel ‘The Other’ (1971) was made into a feature film in 1972, so he was riding considerable momentum when ‘Home’ was issued in 1973.

‘Home’ takes place in 1972 in the bucolic New England town of Cornwall Coombe. Ned Constantine, the first-person narrator, his wife Beth, and daughter Kate, have just moved to the village from New York City. Cornwall Coombe has plenty of Yankee charm, a hint of mystery, and a large cast of eccentric characters: there is a kindly Widder Woman with a ‘Foxfire’ homeliness about her; an older married couple in the house next door, who are full of facts and observations about life in the village; a scraggly but lovable peddler; Tamar, the Town Hussy; and her odd little daughter, who is gifted with prophetic and disturbing visions.

Ned discovers that much of the social and economic life of the village revolves around adherence to pastoral rituals and beliefs that are seemingly drawn from medieval England, rather than 20^th century America. While at first these beliefs seem quaint and harmless to Ned and his family, he gradually realizes that there is a dark and dangerous undertone to Cornwall Coombe’s customs. There is an encounter with what seems to be a ‘ghost’ and an eerie tableaux in the deep woods. Soon Ned is forced to a fateful decision: does he step over the line into being a participant, or does he reject the Old Ways and in so doing becomes the interloper who must be eliminated ?

The main drawback to ‘Harvest Home’ is its leisurely pacing; so leisurely, in fact, that I suspect anyone under the age of 40, raised on the more graphic horror that has defined the Paperbacks from Hell era, will find it boring. The Portents of Doom that Tryon sprinkles through the early pages of the book are too thin a gruel to nourish modern readers more used to violence and action within the first 50 pages of their novels. When the horror tones of the story do finally kick in, they are relatively weak and rely more on subtlety and atmosphere than overt gore.

In some ways I suspect the languid tenor of ‘Home’ led to Tryon’s somewhat premature eclipse in the world of horror fiction. The same year that ‘Home’ appeared on store shelves, Stephen King would publish ‘Carrie’, and then in 1975, his own Haunted Village novel, ‘Salems Lot,’ which is superior to Tryon’s works.  In the wake of the King juggernaut, the horror tales of Tryon, Blatty, and Levin came across as rather mannered and sedate.

Readers willing to indulge in a slow-paced, character-driven novel set in the early 1970s will want to give ‘Home’ a try. But anyone expecting an intense dose of horror will need to look elsewhere.

Questar magazine October 1980

Questar magazine

October, 1980

Questar was a short-lived science fiction magazine that ran for 13 issues, from Spring 1978 to October 1981. It began life as a semiprofessional zine, then briefly flourished in 1980, when it received national distribution. One problem the magazine experienced was its irregular publishing schedule, which meant it was months behind other genre magazines (like Starlog) in covering prominent films. This is apparent in the October, 1980 issue, where films like The Empire Strikes Back are being reviewed some three months after release. This was a disadvantage in terms of maintaining circulation. 

 

According to the entry for the magazine at the Encyclopedia of Science Fiction website, in 1981, Undercapitalized and undersold, Questar sank: lamented by a few, unnoticed by many. 

Over the years I've collected six or seven issues, and the October, 1980 issue is one of the best. It features a striking Frazetta painting on the cover. The advertising, while rather limited, directs readers to vinyl LPs of soundtracks to lower-budget horror films:

There's an ad for the Roger Corman film Battle Beyond the Stars, a reasonably engaging Star Wars ripoff. And Marvel promotes its new magazine Epic Illustrated.
 

Looking through the movie reviews in the back pages reveals some strange and long-forgotten enterprises. Such as Cheech and Chong's Next Movie, a 1980 followup to Up in Smoke. During the course of Next Movie our stoner duo wind up inside a UFO, hence the sci-fi connection. Stretching things a bit, Questar lumps the disco musical Xanadu in with Cheech and Chong, something of an awkward juxtaposition.

Also reviewed are two low-low-budget sci-fi films. One, Scared to Death, was an Alien copy. You can watch the film here. Showing that no scrap of pop culture ever is lost to perpetuity, in 2022 a novelization of the film was published under the auspices of the 'Encyclopocalypse Movie Tie-In' series.

 

Alien on Earth, aka Alien Contamination, was a drive-in obscurity from 1980. Another Alien ripoff, this time from an Italian film studio, Alien Contamination since has earned a place in the demented hearts of trash film fans. It can be viewed here.

The book review pages deal with some novels and short story collections from Pohl, Wolfe, Niven, and Vance. I wouldn't consider any of the profiled works to be gems of early 80s sci-fi.

One thing about the October issue is it has outstanding illustrations, such as this one for the short story 'Youth in Asia' ('euthanasia'.....get it ?). 

The main feature in this October issue is a tribute to the 1968 film Night of the Living Dead. It leads off with a powerful illustration whose artist is, sadly, un-named. The article provide capsule reminiscences of the cast and crew, looking back at their work from twelve years previously.

 

This October issue of Questar is sufficiently interesting that if you see it on the shelves of a secondhand bookshop, or an antiques store, it's worth paying a little extra for it, in order to have your own copy. Eighties nostalgia, for sure......

Book Review: New Terrors Omnibus

Book Review: 'New Terrors Omnibus' edited by Ramsey Campbell

3 / 5 Stars

‘New Terrors Omnibus’ (649 pp.) was published by Pan Books (UK) in 1985. The cover illustration is credited to Matt Mahurin. This omnibus compiles the contents first printed by Pan in 1980 in the two-volume ‘New Terrors’ and ‘New Terrors Two’ paperbacks. In the U.S., Pocket Books published the two-volume set in 1982 and 1984.

Most of the entries in the Omnibus are specially commissioned, and have not previously been published. 

The Omnibus is a thick chunk of a mass-market paperback, with 6 point font, and single-spacing. Rather than read it all at once, I periodically worked my way through it over the course of nearly two and-a-half years. 

I was well aware that the omnibus would contain stories and novelettes particular to Campbell’s view of horror prose, circa 1980: namely, a focus on stories that emphasized mood, atmosphere, and setting over plotting. The horror content is subdued, ambiguous, and oblique.  

I debated whether or not to provide capsule summaries of each entry, as it would be a long list. But given the time I put into reading ‘New Terrors Omnibus’, it seems justifiable. So here goes:

The Stain, by Robert Aickman: Stephen, wandering the soggy and overgrown English moors, comes upon a mysterious young girl named Nell, and promptly becomes infatuated with her. There are hints that Nell originates from a strange place. As is typical with Aickman stories, this one features an enigmatic female; is slow-paced, subdued, and noncommittal. Its ‘folk horror’ theme is something that Robert Holdstock later would cover in his writings such as ‘Mythago Wood’.

City Fishing, by Steve Rasnic Tem: friends Jimmy and Bill go with their dads on a trip into the city. They bring along much hunting equipment. Good things do not happen.

Sun City, by Lisa Tuttle: on vacation in Mexico, Nora sees something she shouldn’t have seen. An effective story, with a Clive Barker-ish flavoring.

Yare, by Manley Wade Wellman: a confrontation with the supernatural, in the wilds of North Carolina. Silver John does not make an appearance.

A Room with a Vie, by Tanith Lee: The typo is deliberate. Caroline rents a room that turns out to be haunted. Much figurative language, and a vague denouement.

Diminishing Landscape with Indistinct Figures, by Daphne Castell: strange things are going on at a sanitarium in rural England. This story’s interesting premise ultimately is frittered away by the author’s insistence on keeping the horrors too indistinct to be effective. 

Tissue, by Marc Laidlaw: Paula accompanies her boyfriend Daniel on a visit to his childhood home. Daniel’s father is a creepy sort of fellow. The theme of ‘body horror’ surfaces, albeit in a tamer way than how it’s done nowadays.

Without Rhyme or Reason, by Peter Valentine Timlett: Deborah takes a job at a country estate as a maid to the eccentric Mrs. Bates. This story benefits from a Roald Dahl-ish quality.

Love Me Tender, by Bob Shaw: on the run from the law, Massick heads for the remote swamplands of Florida, and finds what seems to be the perfect hideout……….moreso than many of the other entries in this anthology, ‘Love Me Tender’ adheres to the formatting of a traditional horror story and perhaps because of this, is one of the better tales in the collection. 

Kevin Malone, by Gene Wolfe: a tepid ghost story about a young couple invited to take up residence in a palatial estate.

Time to Laugh, by Joan Aiken: a burglar discovers that a crumbling mansion might not be the best place to rob. The story doesn’t satisfy, due to an inconclusive ending.  

Chicken Soup, by Kit Reed: a Momma’s boy, and his problems. 

The Pursuer, by James Wade: first published in 1951, and resurrected by editor Campbell for inclusion in this anthology. It’s a short-short psychological drama. I didn’t find it all that impressive. 

Bridal Suite, by Graham Masterton: I’m not sure how Masterton snuck into this anthology, but his entry is a fun one, mixing the concept of the succubus with that of the haunted house. There is over-the-top, facetious humor in the mix. One of a few entries that could possibly be said to have splatterpunk leanings, and thus, very much a winning entry ! 

The Spot, by Dennis Etchison and Mark Johnson: in sunny California, a two-man crew that cleans up the apartments of the deceased learns some troubling things about fame, aging, and death. Yet another Etchison tale that delivers atmosphere and setting, but little (if any) horror content. 

The Gingerbread House, by Cherry Wilder: Amanda discovers her brother is living in a house haunted by a possessive spirit. 

Watchers at the Straight Gate, by Russell Kirk: on a cold, dark, and gloomy night, Father O’Malley has a supernatural encounter with a ghost, one with a story to tell. As with most (all ?) of Kirk’s ‘horror’ stories, ‘Watchers’ relies heavily on a rather ponderous ‘literary’ prose style, and serves as a vehicle by which he can expound on death, the afterlife, sin, and purgatory. I thought ‘Watchers’ was boring. 

0.220 Swift, by Karl Edward Wagner: in rural North Carolina, rumors of caverns excavated deep in primordial limestone formations are investigated by the archeologist Morris Kenlaw. Wagner’s contributions to horror anthologies could be hit-or-miss, but this one is a quality contribution, relying to some extent on the ‘Shonokin’ mythology of writer Manly Wade Wellman.

The Fit, by Ramsey Campbell: ‘on holiday’ in Cumbria, whilst hiking across the fells, a boy comes across a dilapidated cottage. Its occupant must not be trifled with. Focusing more on plot, and less on his traditionally florid diction, this is a decent entry from editor Campbell. 

The Mysterious Cairn, by Christopher Priest: set in the same imaginary nations of the Dream Archipelago that Priest later would use in his 1981 novel ‘The Affirmation’, this novelette follows the first-person narrator on a return visit to the windswept Northern isle of Seevl. There is much descriptive prose centered on entropy-stricken landscapes, and an unpleasant incident that may – or may not – be a hallucination. The novelette’s ambiguity works against it.

The Man Whose Eyes Beheld the Glory, by John Brunner: strange doings on a remote Greek island.

The Rubber Room, by Robert Bloch: Emery, a paranoid schizophrenic, has done some Bad Things. The Voices told him to !

Drama in Five Acts, by Giles Gordon: a short tale that showcases ‘experimental’ prose. I found it incoherent.

The Initiation, by Jack Sullivan: riding the New York City subway trains induces frightening hallucinations (or are they not hallucinations ?! Bwa-ha-ha !!) in the anonymous protagonist. The story’s thin plot gets overwhelmed by too much figurative prose.

Lucille Would Have Known, by John Burke: a group of Britishers ‘on holiday’ miss their dear, departed majordomo. Another tale with a Roald Dahl sensibility.

Teething Troubles, by Rosalind Ashe: a brand-new college campus is afflicted with noxious odors.

The Funny Face Murders, by R. A. Lafferty: not a horror story at all, but a ‘fabulation’. I’m guessing Campbell thought having a Lafferty story gives the anthology a New Wave flavoring. The problem is, Lafferty’s fiction is an acquired taste, and ‘Funny Face’ is awful. 

Femme Fatale, by Marianne Leconte: translated from the French by John Brunner. A memorable tale, with a Metal Hurlant sensibility, about a postapocalyptic Paris.

Big Wheels: A Tale of the Laundry Game, by Stephen King: two drunks roam the late-night roads of rural Maine. A weird, unconventional entry from King.

Richie by the Sea, by Greg Bear: something strange is going on at the beach fronting the Pacific Ocean. A genuinely creepy tale, and one of the best in the anthology.

Can You Still See Me ?, by Margaret Dickson: a ghost story that’s too vague and figurative to be effective.

A Song at the Party, by Dorothy K. Haynes: domestic horror, in England. Subdued, but leaves an impression.

One Way Out, by Felice Picano: a hitchhiker witnesses some startling things. The plot will become recognizable to anyone with a familiarity with sci-fi cliches. 

The Ice Monkey, by M. John Harrison: rock climbing, and the entropic landscapes of modern Britain. Not a horror story.

Symbiote, by Andrew J. Offutt: a variation on the theme of homicide as a manifestation of disease. Offutt works in some splatterpunk shadings.

Across the Water to Skye, by Charles L. Grant: a man approaching middle age, and coping with personal tragedy, learns that the end of the summer season at the beach is a potent metaphor for the transitory nature of human life and by extension, society itself. Aren’t you glad editor Campbell put this kind of profoundly moving tale in ‘New Terrors’ ? I’m not……….

The Dark, by Kathleen Resch: an affectless young woman named Charlene Armstrong wanders the late-night streets of New Orleans, looking for romance, mystery, and intrigue. She finds these in a vampire named Lesta- errr, ‘Desmond.’ This novelette is melodramatic, probably too much so for ‘New Terrors.’

The verdict on ‘New Terrors Omnibus’ ? It’s a Three-Star compilation, demonstrative of horror short fiction as it stood on the eve of the Paperbacks from Hell era. With the exception of the entries from Shaw, Masterton, Tuttle, Wagner, Leconte, and Bear, there are few stories that do anything novel or unique with the genre. This should be considered before sitting down with a book as thick as this one is !