A few months ago, I stumbled onto a short, one-paragraph story synopsis that instantly caught my attention, and I found myself so intrigued that I went out and bought the novel on the spot. The author was new, and had an interesting but perhaps unlikely background for a novelist. (In hindsight, this may not be the case after all, given the novel’s very dark fantasy subject matter). Nonetheless, by the time that I finished the four page prologue I knew that I was in for a real treat and more exciting yet, that I might be in on something new and perhaps truly visionary. As it turned out, I was correct.

The novel is called Scar Night, and the author is Alan Campbell. Picture this: an ancient, crumbling city hangs suspended above a seemingly bottomless abyss on a series of gargantuan chains; a network of lesser chains, cables, and ropes support outlying districts filled with warehouses, shops, residences, and even the wooden walkways and thoroughfares that connect them all together. This is Deepgate, which lies at the heart of Campbell’s world. The residents of this improbable city worship Lord Ulcis, the god of chains, and each month at the dark of the moon they are tormented by a demonic angel known as Carnival who flies over the rooftops searching for unwary victims.

The richly Victorian atmosphere in Campbell’s story is palpable. For me, it was instantly reminiscent of my favorite works of literature in the English language; the Gormenghast novels of the great British fantasist Mervyn Peake (read my commentary on these novels elsewhere here and also on my Nightfall Books website). Mix Peake with Neil Gaiman (think Neverwhere), stir in some Fritz Leiber and sprinkle on a little Jack Vance, and you may start to get a feel for how the story reads. That said, whether or not any of these writers were influences on Campbell, this novel is remarkably original and is an absolutely stunning debut effort. It is the experience of a novel like this one that is why so many of us love to read.

I won’t spoil any surprises for you, and there are many in this book. Suffice it to say that it is a rare and wonderous, albeit dark and sometimes gruesome, adventure that awaits you.

Fortunately, Campbell is following this book with both a prequel and a sequel! I’ll bring you a review of the former, titled Lye Street, here soon. In the meantime, if you’d like to preorder a copy, you can do so at Nightfall Books. The latter, alternatively titled Penny Devil and Iron Angel in the UK and US, will be released later this year.

Until next time, happy reading!

I tend to keep two or three books in my reading rotation at any given time, unless I happen to have picked up one of those stay-up-all-night-to-finish titles (you know the ones). Lately, I’ve been juggling a few cross-genre titles, including several from a handful of late, great British authors and one from a new young American fantasy writer.

First up is Strangers and Pilgrims, an outstanding new omnibus collection of supernatural fiction by Walter de la Mare. Published by one of my favorite specialty publishers, Tartarus Press in the UK, it’s a beautiful monster of a book at 500+ pages, and is not to be missed if you are a fan of ghost stories or supernatural fiction in general, especially by the early masters of the genre.

Second is Thermopylae: Battle for the West by popular historian Ernle Bradford. I’ve been fascinated by ancient history since childhood (yes, that long ago), particularly Egypt, Greece, and the Roman Empire. After reading Frank Miller’s graphic novel 300 last year, I had the urge to go back and take a longer, deeper look into the epic but hopeless battle for the Hot Gates in 480 BC that has been widely considered ever since as a turning point in the development of Western civilization. Bradford’s book, first published in 1980, takes a detailed look at the events leading up to and throughout Persian king Xerxes’ ultimately doomed campaign against the West, as well as the aftermath of that campaign. Highly recommended, particularly if ancient Greek history is your thing.

The next book is Summer Lightning, the latest in the seemingly endless flow of P.G. Wodehouse titles that make their way into my rotation. The prolific author, considered by many to be the greatest British comic writer ever, may be best known for his Wooster and Jeeves stories. As good as they are, my own favorites are his stories about Blandings Castle and its colorful cast of characters, of which Summer Lightning is the third novel in the series, and the fourth book chronologically (the preceding title was a short story collection). Some Wodehouse critics claim that he merely tells the same story over and over. Sure, there are similarities – the stories are typically light, humourous, period pieces dealing with the foibles of a revolving group of characters in a more or less constant group of settings. But does this make them any less enjoyable? Hardly – in fact, each book let’s the reader visit once again with comfortable and quirky old friends. And that’s a good thing indeed. If you don’t know Wodehouse (pronounced “wood-house”), I encouraged you to become acquainted.

Finally, we have dragons – but more on that in a minute. I read a lot of fantasy in the early days, including all of the old masters, along with many of the more modern ones. Still, I haven’t read much pure fantasy in a long time. This is due in large part to my current preferences in fiction literature. But the fact remains that the book racks at the chain book stores these days are overflowing with new science fiction, fantasy, and horror titles, much of it less than satisfactory. Still, there are terrific new authors working in the field, while many old favorites are still writing. What’s more, many of the classics are being reprinted again.

Now, back to those dragons. Among those terrific new writers is Naomi Novik. Her Temeraire tetralogy of historical fantasies involves the unlikely combination of dragons and the Napoleonic Wars! I bought the first novel, His Majesty’s Dragon, for my wife, and decided to start reading it myself last night. When dragons are handled well – Ursula LeGuin comes to mind – they can make for great stories. However, they’ve been overused and abused by lesser authors so often that although I had read much of the hype online regarding these books, I was still skeptical. Much has already been written elsewhere about the Temeraire saga, but for now I’ll simply say that fifty pages in Novik had me. First, she’s a fine writer, which was a pleasure to learn for myself. Second, she tells a good story. And third, she has – thus far at least – avoided most of the typical dragon cliches. As many others have noted, Novik is more fond of semicolons than any other author I can think of, and she has yet to totally convince me that these dragons are the real deal. Still, I’m hooked now, and will report further here after I have finished the series.

Like all literary genres, this one has evolved over time to reflect changes in popular culture, societal mores and values, and world events, among other things. In recent decades, a trend towards more bloody, horrific, and sexual themes has become apparent. In many cases, modern purveyors of horror fiction seem engaged in trying to outgross and outsex one other with each new title. The results often end up as nothing more than ultra violent pornography. This trend seems to mirror a similar trend in horror cinema over the past twenty years or so, one which is becoming increasingly disturbing.

Fortunately for those of us who appreciate a more subtle and psychological approach to our chilling tales, there are a number of writers working in the genre today who deliver in this regard. Two of these are Australian author Terry Dowling and American author Thomas Tessier. Despite a largely more cerebral approach to their subject matter, their stories are often dark and disturbing, and do not shy away from adult themes. Cases-in-point are Tessier’s 2000 Ghost Music and Dowling’s 2006 Basic Black.

Both titles, currently out of print from Cemetery Dance, are effective but uneven collections of each author’s supernatural short stories. I admit to thinking “huh?” after finishing a few of the stories in each book, but this does happen to me on occasion. Each time it does, I first wonder what I might have missed while reading the story, and then I wonder whether the problem lay with me or with the author. But don’t let this deter you: check out one or both titles, if you can find them in some form. In fact, the single most eerie, unnerving, and downright disturbing story I have read since Ramsey Campbell’s The Pattern is Tessier’s innocently titled In Praise of Folly. It has a “quiet” yet shudderingly chilling ending that should make your blood run cold. It did mine…