The Yattering and Jack

     Demons and the structure of Hell is a playground horror writer's often delve into. That's not surprising, seeing as the religious underworld is ripe for all manner of mayhem and evil. In Clive Barker's short,The Yattering and Jack, there is an intriguing twist on the idea of  demonic conquest of a human soul. Barker creates a story that blends a dose of horror while the blurring the line between monster and man.

      The battle for Jack Polo is waged in his home with a humorous slant as the lower demon, the Yattering, is assigned to destroy his sanity and thereby acquire his soul. Barker paints Jack as a rather dull man. He's a pickle dealer, a 9 to 5 working man, who shrugs off any emotional turmoil that is slammed against him with a "che sera, sera." This drops the reader directly into tension from the start. The Yattering is charged by his underworld masters to remain in Jack's house and drive him mad, yet this unremarkable man seems numb to every attack. Barker uses this to create a strange sense of empathy for the lesser demon. He has a job that is frustrating and unrewarding. In some ways, the reader is rooting for both Jack and the Yattering, while feeling a smudge uncomfortable with the realization they feel something other than fear and contempt for a demon. This tension only further increases as Jack is revealed to be knowledgeable about the Yattering's plan. The addition of Jack's daughters during the holidays and the Yattering's increasing activity builds the tension even further and sets a time restraint. The Yattering needs to leverage the daughters during the visit to win Jack's soul. Jack needs to keep a calm front until the opportune moment to best the demon. The explosion is primed to go off.

     One of Barker's strong suits is to add just enough detail for the audience to get a feel for the characters and horror, but leave out enough for the individual reader to fill in the details. The Yattering itself is described visually very sparingly until the end (even then it is wide open to interpretation). During the Yatterings attacks, he often whispers obscenities in Jack's ear during showers, with the hope this will either make Jack question his own sanity/goodness or act upon the suggestions. Barker leaves the details of what these obscenities out, allowing the reader to conjure up their own twisted and/or perverse ideas. Such tactfully excluded details allow the reader to customize the horrorific elements of the story to what scares them personally.

     As I'm sure I've mentioned before, theme and message are elements of a story that I'm particularly fond of. This is another area where The Yattering and Jack shines. Although religion isn't discussed too in depth, it is vital to the story. Barker plants subtle ideas that reflect this theme. The showdown at the climax is set during Christmas, a time typically celebrated for religious reasons. His wife commits adultery and suicide, which are sins. While Jack isn't portrayed as religious, the idea of religion pops up to remind the reader of the weight of what's at stake for Jack.

      Hell is one of the key players in this story, and the idea of escaping damnation and receiving redemption are delightfully warped. Early in the story the reader is given a slim backstory as to why Jack is the target of the powers of Hell. His mother promised his soul, as well as her own, to them only to slip out of the deal by later joining the church. Hell has a claim on Jack and they intend to have him, especially after the insult of losing his mother. While Jack's mother was redeemed, it is also worth noting that she didn't make good on her word. She out tricked the tricksters. Jack follows her example, trapping the Yattering as his own slave. Barker makes the reader wonder if Jack is truly on the side of good if he is willing to engage the evil powers. This leads to the bigger message of the story: who is the real monster between man and demon? The Yattering does wicked things throughout the story including killing three pet cats, one by explosion (I'll admit, that was a particularly fun scene for me). The demon is there to complete an evil task, and is putting the innocent daughters in danger to do so. Yet, these are all his responsibility, his job. Jack is able to choose his course while the Yattering's hands are tied, and Jack chooses to enslave the demon at the risk of being denied Heaven.

      I was annoyed by the bit of head hopping during the later half of the story. Barker switches from only indulging the audience in the Yattering's thoughts to diving into Jack's mind as well. To some degree, I can understand the necessity for this in this piece. The beginning suspense of Jack's apparent lack of reaction to the Yattering's antics would have dissolved if the reader would have known from the get go that Jack was doing this on purpose. The Christmas chaos would have been hard to fully develop from only the Yattring's or Jack's view. Still, it is somewhat of a pet peeve of mine that knocks me out of the story when we are switched without warning to another head.

       The humor in the story wasn't as pronounced as it could have been. Barker describes the incident with the turkey and the spinning tree and living room items in a more serious tone. I'm not sure if he intended this to be funny, but the situations seemed ripe for amping up the ridiculousness of the occurrences, especially since it put the mischievous slant on the Yattering. This is a matter of opinion, of course, but I felt the humor wasn't quite at the level it needed to be.

     Overall, this is a great story that will unnerve readers a touch and give them something to think about while being entertaining. The flaws are small and easy to overlook once your engaged in the story. Well worth reading.

Cycle of the Werewolf

     Stephan King is probably the best known horror writer of the modern era. His works are easily accessible, making them appealing to not only horror fans but those who read the genre lightly, if at all. The Cycle of the Werewolf is one of King's earlier works. A short book that spans the full moon attacks on a sleepy Maine town over the course of a year. This novel is broken down into each month's werewolf antics, with illustrations. I had conflicting thoughts on this book.

     First off, the setting was well developed. King paints a strong image of the little town of Tarker's Mills.  As someone who grew up in a small town, King nails the atmosphere extremely well. Everyone knows everyone and if something dark happens, the town is buzzing with gossip.The characters are more or less an extension of this setting. They are less deeply unique individuals so much as a way to further grow the setting. The way the people interact and their personalities are to bring life to the town, not for the reader to develop relationships with these characters. While this helped to give the reader a sense of the place, it also makes for an attached audience. The fate of the characters doesn't feel as emotional as they are grazed over and little time is spent with them. To some degree, this helps with King's appeal to a broader audience that doesn't want to have too close a connection to characters that will be brutally murdered.

     The way the chapters are segmented into each month's full moon helps to make the plot quick. All

the in-between day to day of the town is jumped over to the next werewolf occurrence. However, this also made the first half of the book a dull recount of the werewolves attacks with little connecting plot. It wasn't until the July attack that any real threads of plot started to draw me in. Up until that point there are descriptions of each murder, and some foreshadowing. If this was a full length novel, the time to get into it could be forgiven. In a short novella, the first half of repetitive killings is tiresome. The reader needs suspects and a protagonist to root for far sooner than this story provided. Overall, the plot can be simplified to the months of July, October, November, and December. Everything else has some foreshadowing and fluff.

      The foreshadowing is super obvious. Again, this adds to that King appeal to a broad audience as even those who don't regularly read horror have a strong idea of what will happen. The Reverend's dream straight out labels him as the beast. The abusive husband meets a gruesome death. The arrogant dim-witted cop gets it. The reader knows what they are in for. Stephan King provides the predictable plot well. If you are hoping for some big twist or surprises they aren't here, though this is an older work so it may have seemed fresher when it was first published.
 
      The themes of the story are soft. There is some introspection from the reverend regarding God and his will. The disabled boy rises to be the hero of the town despite his physical limitations. This was a simple show, so King doesn't dig too deep. For a light read, that's not a bad thing per say. I personally wished there had been more to this story.

      Lastly, the illustrations were both a blessing and a curse. The illustrations added a nice visual and gave the short novella a page count boost. I would have been happy with the images if they had been better placed. At numerous places there was a full page illustration of the murder that was described in the following pages. So the reader already knows what is going to happen. In fact, it would have been possible to skip the rest of the month after those key images as the reader already gets what happens next. This was frustrating. Why keep reading? The last full page depicts the hero child shooting the werewolf long before the creature even arrives. Ending ruined, not that it was a twist one. The edition I have is from 1985, so newer editions have have remedied this problem.

      Overall, this is a quick easy read that you don't have to think too much about. It's a good book for those who don't read much horror or just want something light to skim over. I wouldn't say it was a bad read, but I wouldn't say it was a great one either.

Rawhead Rex

   

     When it comes to terrifying monsters, Clive Barker doesn't disappoint. I may be a tad bias as I'm a big fan of his, but the story Rawhead Rex from Clive Barker's Books of Blood is an exemplary example of Barker's ability to create a believable monster that crawls into your deepest nightmares. Rawhead Rex is a unique and terrifying take an the ancient evil creature that rises to prowl the unprepared modern streets. I ate up this story, no extra rows of teeth required,

      Let's start with the monster this story is named after, Rawhead Rex. The descriptions of the creature are disturbing and clear. There is plenty to get a solid idea of what this being looks like without being overburdened by imagery that isn't needed. Barker gives Rex enough of a backstory for the audience to understand his motivation and yet leaves enough mystery to keep the fear of the unknown vibe about the monster. The reader also gets some glimpses into Rex's perspective, which make his attacks all the more horrific. He has no regard for human life, in fact, he relishes destroying it. He is also more complex than a creature simply bent on rage and destruction. Rex has the capacity to learn and plot, which makes him all the more dangerous.

       This story has a heavy does of gore. Barker is careful to create a plot and strategically plan out each death so as not to cross over into the realm of mindless gore-porn. Many of the characters that meet a grisly end have an flaw that Barker focuses on before their end. The farmer in the beginning is stubborn to a fault, Detective Sergeant Gissing has a pedophilic recurring dream, and Declan has become demented. In each of these cases, the audience is able to accept the gore as they see the fault in the character. Their fates may have been extreme, which still ramps up the terror, and yet the audience doesn't feel they are witnessing innocent people being mutilated for the sake of splatter alone. The Nicholson family is left intentionally vague, especially the child that Rex devours. Barker doesn't give us the detail or the needed time to fully invest in those characters so that the carnage becomes akin to watching the nightly news and hearing about a horrible murder. It's scary, but since we don't know them personally, it's easier to swallow the murders since they are distant. Ian's death is soften by his submission. The boy has seen this happen to him in dreams and therefore accepts his fate. Barker has masterfully given us a story that turns the stomach while the reader keeps flipping pages as the gruesome deaths all have a cushion.

     The real jewel of this story for me is the numerous themes that flow through it. One being this is a story about worship and what is worthy of worship. Rawhead Rex has ambition to be a king or, more likely, a god. Declan indulges him in this aspiration, but Rex has his sights set upon all of humanity. Coots is devoted to his Christian beliefs, yet even he wavers in the face of the monster. His role is that of the wise man that points our Protagonist, Ron, to the Creature's weakness. Yet, he is more than that. In many ways, Coot is the representation of our modern disillusion with religion. His God doesn't save him and he must make peace with the knowledge that either God wished him to die  or that God doesn't exist. Ron ends up finding the fertility idol that is Rex's weakness. It is up for debate if the Goddess had some unique power over Rex or if it simply preyed upon his fear. After all, it was the people that ended up taking the monster down and not some divine power. It leaves the reader to ponder if any of the potential deities were really worth worship or if humanity in itself was the true power of this story.

      Another theme is the concept of female fertility plays an important role in this tale. Rawhead Rex ponders his strange relationship with human woman at several points in the text. He has an aversion to women on their period, yet also muses about how he (and presumably other creatures like him) dragged women off into the woods to rape them and then watch die as they wouldn't survive the birth of a half-bred. This was to gain power over them. Whether it is the woman themselves that frighten the monsters or the Goddess that represents fertility is interesting to consider. As much as the female power of procreation scares him, the results of that ability are a delight to him. Children are his favorite treat. Thus, he has a strange dynamic that leads to his demise.

      I did find a few things I felt detracted from the story. The third person omniscient POV was distracting at times as the jump from one person's head to another was often sudden and without warning. This POV isn't generally my taste as it makes stories feel impersonal and I can't fall into them as much as I want to. I also really wanted this to be a longer work, preferably a novel length story. There was so much that could have been expanded upon and the town and characters could have been more dynamic in a longer piece.

      Overall, this is an amazing read. If you get your hands on any of the Books of Blood, make sure to savor every bite.

   

Breeding Ground

       I was excited to dig into Breeding Ground by Sarah Pinborough as the monsters in the tale are not the typical zombies or vampires that have been overdone in the apocalypse genre. Instead, a psychic spider-like race of creatures develop from within human hosts to bring about the end times. What a lovely twisted concept. It is such a pity that fabulous concept isn't fleshed out into an engaging book. 

Image by Elfodelbosque

       In my family, I am the designated spider disposer. I scoop spiders that have found their way inside up in a cup and take them outside while the family shrieks in terror. The husband and kids have a case of overactive Arachnophobia. I, on the other hand, am quite fond of spiders. They are graceful impressive creatures. Our local Arizona orb weavers decorate my house regularly with magnificent webs. I ensure the Hubby doesn't spray incest poison around tarantula mating season so they can cross our property safely. I mention this because the monsters in Breeding Ground are infinitely more terrifying for those that fear spiders. Obviously, this aspect of them didn't affect me so much. The way they come into existence was horrific, but the spiderness of the Widows didn't phase me. How scary this book is likely varies on the individual reader's reaction to spiders.
       The Widows themselves were one of the best parts of the book, as well as one of the biggest disappointments. Their development inside humans is ten shades of grotesque. Pinborough creates a unique monster species with interesting abilities such as a a collective conscious and a venomous bite that produces horrific effects on it's recipient. Then we have a weak reason for their development, genetically modified foods have somehow lead to the evolution of humans growing the Widows inside their bodies. Not believable. Their weakness is also groan worthy; Somehow deafness creates an element in the blood that is toxic to these creatures. I'm not buying that one either. Seems far-fetched and a desperate grab to give them them a weakness that is unrealistic. These creatures are way overpowered, which makes the main characters' survival unrealistic.
         The plot is in many ways typical of the end of the world type stories. Small band of survivors band together to create a safe haven against the swarm outside only to turn on each other as sanity and humanity within the group crumble. This is accompanied with stereotypical characters, such as the wise old man, the crazy trouble maker, and the scientist. Not only is the plot predictable, it has immense holes in it. Our man characters gets sick next to a river and is soaked in urine. Instead of taking a dip in the water to rinse off the smell, he decides to take the long trek back into the village to break into a store and get fresh clothes. A mini bus and another survivor conveniently show up after their cars are destroyed to take them to safety. Widows don't come out during the day, but happen to do just that to attack one of the cars. You get the point. 
         Our narrator, Matt Edge, is inconstant. He is devoted to and is hopelessly in love with his longtime girlfriend, Chloe, yet manages to sleep with the only other two of age women survivors in quick succession (quite a feat, I might add, since there is a decent size group of other men yet the women only go for him). At times he seems to take charge and at others so clueless as to not connect his second lover's strange behaviors to the first who incubated a Widow. Overall, he doesn't seem to be anyone in particular except male. By male, I mean that Pinborough wrote on his character sheet, he's an average guy and left it at that. However, it is apparent she was uncomfortable writing from a male perspective as much of his internal conflict revolved around wanted to sleep with women and then feeling apologetic for that desire then chalking it up to him being 'just a man.' I find this just as frustrating as when women are written as nothing more than 'just a girl.' 
         Gender and parenthood are a big part of this story.  The focus on gender is present from the very beginning as the Widows, at first, only develop from women. The women survivors ultimately are the cause of the group's self-destruction. I couldn't help feeling that Pinborough had a theme of the complicated dynamic between male and female leading to procreation that she was trying in impart in the book. The group ponders at several points how the all-female Widows will reproduce, which is answered as the men start growing their own black version of the creatures. The villainous troublemaker is revealed to have thrown his own daughter at a Widow to save himself and tosses out the only young girl of the group at the climax. Matt starts the story with a pregnant woman and ends it with one as well.  However, whatever point she hoped to make with these elements never fully develops. At some points I considered Pinborough was drawing attention to Matt's relationships to highlight how men and women need each other for our species to continue in the future. Or maybe Pinborough wished to use the repeated theme of children dying to symbolize how we as a society are failing the future generations for selfish reasons (like messing with the genes in our food and so on). None of this sticky strings of theme ever came together to create the web of meaning I was looking for. 
          I should add that there is a sequel to this book which leads me to wonder if many of the weak spots are explored and corrected in the next installment. Perhaps the clear explanation for the Widows development is revealed in Book 2 and maybe the themes and meanings for the work come together. Sadly, I was so disillusioned with this first book that I have no intention of reading the next one to find out. 
          Overall, this book felt like a work-in-progress that was published long before it was ready. Given more time and a few more drafts, I can imagine this becoming a story that would scare the pants off a reader with fleshed out characters and fixed plot holes. As it is, the book is a disappointingly poor execution of what could have been a unique monster story. My recommendation, skip this one.