by William D. Gagliani
I’ve just finished watching my tape of Stephen King’s adaptation of his novel, The Stand. And you know what? Even with Steve’s
masterful hand steering production certainly nearer to the heart and soul of the project, I can’t help but feel disappointed. And yet
elated. Let me explain.
The Stand has always been my favorite King novel. Especially now in its longer, original version, it is sprawling and amazingly
mature. It’s creepy and occasionally provides King’s patented gross-out, but also carries with it a much more spiritual outlook
than most of the rest of his work.
Given the confines of television, King did a better than average job of bringing it to life. Indeed, some of the characters I loved so
much years ago will forever wear the faces of the actors who portrayed them: Gary Sinise, Adam Storke, Ruby Dee, Ray
Walston, Bill Fagerbakke, Rob Lowe (a better performance than I expected), and even Jamey Sheridan in the surprisingly
effective role of Flagg. Others, sadly, will not wear those faces in my memory, their work merely adequate. No matter, parts of
the miniseries worked and worked well. The soundtrack, by the way, was a star of the performance, switching easily from rock
references to blues to an evocative Celtic pastoral theme toward the end.
So why am I referring to a television show in a column about books?
Because this fact struck me as I watched. As good as the production was, as well-scripted by the author himself, and as well-
acted, it does not (perhaps cannot) compare with the novel from where it all came. So often we forget that everything we see, on
television and at the theater, springs from the written word. So often we forget that when we read we are able to better see the
author’s world, that our imaginations will decorate the set better than any studio employee. We forget that the true magic lies in
the book, and everything else is just the “lite” version.
So, if you saw the movie but missed the book, here’s your chance to catch up. If you read the book many years ago, saw the
movie and a) loved it, or b) hated it—here’s your chance to read it again and fall in love with its big, sprawling, even more mature
vision all over again.
I definitely plan to just that.
Onward to my mid-summer picks. Enjoy.
65mm by Dale Hoover. Dell Abyss. $4.99 pb orig
When Joe Moreson finally can’t take his programmer’s job any longer, he flees the city and buys the Fareland Theatre in the tiny
town of Fareland, California. It’s not a hard decision for Joe; in fact, the decision seems made for him, as if some kind of destiny
awaits him in the dilapidated old theatre.
Frank Jordan, the theatre’s previous owner, dies the very same day the papers are signed. And so Joe begins his loving
restoration, which goes altogether too smoothly, too incredibly quickly, and with little effort. He and his wife, Karen, move into
Jordan’s house—all part of the deal—and Karen begins to suspect that the house loves Joe, but doesn’t like her at all. In fact,
the whole town seems to love Joe and what he’s doing to the theatre, but no one likes her. Least of all Andy, Jordan’s grandson,
whom Joe has had little choice in hiring.
And then Joe begins to change. Subtly at first, then more overtly, until Karen calls in Joe’s friend from the city, Kelsie Brown. By
the time Kelsie drives up, things have unraveled and Joe only opens the theatre on Fridays for “special screenings,” in which a
strange reel of 65mm film winds impossibly through the 35mm projector and shows each and every citizen of Fareland and his
or her Hiding Fear, inciting them to nearly subconscious acts of violence against their own.
Karen and Kelsie race to unite what little opposition exists and fight the theatre’s unholy influence, suffering greatly in the
process.
This tense novel of the evil deep within our souls works hard to create an atmosphere of increasing horror, though occasionally
its protagonists seem to repeat their mistakes all too easily. On the other hand, who among us wouldn’t underestimate the
power of a supernatural being we cannot comprehend? And Dale Hoover exploits the metaphorical coldness in a man’s heart
by tying all her major characters into moral quagmires. Since the evil already exists in us all, she seems to say, a simple
catalyst (such as the film, or movies in general?) is all that’s needed to bring it roaring to the surface. But blame is never truly
assigned, though it could be, and the novel never attempts to do so—opting instead to use the horror medium to speculate on
the sources of evil.
Though 65mm starts a bit slowly, like a movie reel with a too-long leader at the beginning, Hoover soon takes control of her
material and turns in a respectable performance. Watch out for those late-night “special screenings,” though! An unusual effort,
and recommended.
Succumb by Ron Dee. Pocket Books. $5.50 pb orig
Marty Paarman is trapped.
Trapped by a marriage he perceives as loveless, by two kids who demand too much of his attention, by a job he hates but
cannot leave, by condescending in-laws, and by the very fabric of his old and now-abandoned dreams of playing rock’n’roll
guitar. Trapped by the responsibilities of his life and forced to view his wife Leigh as more and more successful than he and
less and less loving, he turns her business trip into a reason to cruise the bars and contemplate infidelity. About to give up, a
failure even at this, he meets Jan.
Beautiful, loving, understanding Jan. Marty is smitten, and his one-night stand turns into two nights, then three. Jan’s physical
love for Marty easily obliterates his love for Leigh, and his irresponsibility grows until divorce becomes the only answer.
In the meantime, his children meet “Aunt” Jan—but refer to her as the Ghost Lady, because they’re not quite sure she’s there,
even though their Dad talks to her. Are they playing a game? Marty doesn’t care, continuing to spiral into Jan’s always loving
embrace, to the detriment of his job, as well as his marriage. Soon, bodily weakness threatens to overcome him; his body
deteriorates steadily, his teeth loosening and finally starting to fall out of his gums.
What is Jan, and why does her love rob Marty of his vitality?
Ron Dee paints a subtle portrait of a man who convinces himself that the world should revolve around him, and whose dreams
turn to horrifying reality—entrapping him in a web much more sinister than any his marriage might have formed. Using Marty’s
point of view throughout, Dee makes his fears, his shattered dreams, his jealousies, his anger, and his self-deception as real
as a case study. Who among us hasn’t looked back and seen failure where once dreams offered opportunity?
Marty is an effective Everyman, who feels trapped by his role and just selfish enough to create justification for his actions, which
become more and more destructive to those he loves—all the while fulfilling a gnawing sexual desire which begins to consume
his very life. The truth lies in his dreams, but can he understand it before it’s too late? Can the horror that has ensnared him be
fought, and can Marty summon up the willpower to fight it?
Dee turns from vampires to offer this eerily effective cautionary tale of love and lust, dreams and nightmares. Succumb will
scare you with its honesty and with its unflinching look at men’s secret dreams—and watch what you dream for, since you might
just get it.
Highly recommended, though rated R+ for adult situations.
Of Saints and Shadows by Christopher Golden. Jove/Berkley. $5.99 pb orig
Christopher Golden’s first novel gives us Peter Octavian, a vampire private investigator whose newest case turns out to be much
more than an apparent missing person.
In an intriguing twist, a secret sect of the Catholic Church has used high-level sorcery for hundreds of years to enslave all sorts
of magical creatures and demons. Only vampires, the Defiant Ones, have somehow eluded their grasp. But now The Gospel of
Shadows, a long-hidden book of spells (purportedly passed on to the original evangelists by a much more mystical Christ than
ever thought possible) has been stolen by a renegade priest who plans to expose the Church’s sorcerous ways. But Liam
Mulkerrin, the Vatican’s evil chief sorcerer, will retrieve the book at all costs, even by unleashing the demons of hell itself if need
be.
Though some of the Defiant Ones are at least as evil as the Vatican’s sorcerers, Golden manages to make enough of the
vampires sympathetic to pull this off. It helps that the Pope is blissfully unaware of the rot at the core of his Church, and that the
bad guys think nothing of murdering him at the outset of the Blessed Event, their planned extermination of the Defiant Ones who
have gathered in Venice for their annual carnival.
Octavian, aided by interesting secondary characters—including a colorful and quite Undead Buffalo Bill Cody—must keep the
book away from Mulkerrin’s minions, unite the Defiant Ones against the sorcerers by proving that their shackles are purely
mythical, and lead his friends against the horde of black-clad sorcerers who initiate and conduct the Blessed Event as a
massive military operation.
Though it inexplicably switches from suspense/horror to pure fantasy, Of Saints and Shadows still manages to deliver a wild
ending battle between sorcerers, demons, and vampires. Stick through the occasional awkward passage, and forgive the cover
painting (which shamelessly apes last year’s religious thriller, The Blood of the Lamb), and you will be rewarded by a first novel
that makes up in exuberance what it lacks in maturity.
Young Blood edited by Mike Baker. Zebra Books. $4.50 pb orig
This new anthology by Mike Baker, editor of Afraid; the Newsletter for the Horror Professional, has a lot to recommend it, even
obsessed as it is with the youth of its writers.
Twenty-four newer writers vie with five established writers (Stephen King, Robert E. Howard, Robert Bloch, Ramsey Campbell
and Edgar Allan Poe!) for prime masthead space, and therein lies my one great objection. Though “early” work of the five was
chosen as incentive to help sell the anthology on the stands—a decision that, in itself, is difficult to fault—it seems unwise to
make the new guys compete against several masters the likes of Poe. Besides, all five stories have been heavily anthologized
and need not be reiterated here—five obscure early works might have worked better. Who hasn’t read King’s “The Mangler”? Or
Bloch’s “The Skull of the Marquis de Sade”? And what about Poe’s “MS Found in a Bottle”?
Fortunately, the other twenty-four writers present a strong enough front to almost overcome the aura of the first five stories.
No long descriptive passages here. Oh no, young writers rattle off breathless sentences in curt paragraphs almost without
exception. Brevity is indeed the soul of modern horror. This is no real flaw (though one sometimes longs for the exquisite
descriptions of ages past) because we are the video generation, and the word is that audiences bore easily. So start with action
and move fast to capture and hold that wavering attention, the span of which can no longer be relied upon to keep one’s
thoughts upon the current story.
There is no doubt that the star of the anthology is “Saved,” the savage little gem by Poppy Z. Brite and Christa Faust that anchors
the anthology. What comes before is of differing quality, with Clark Perry’s creepy, SF-inspired “Little Black Bags” among the
best. Barb Hendee’s “Bringing Home a Stranger” is short, sharp, and severe. “Playing the Game,” by J.F. Gonzalez hides a
nasty little twist, and Terry Campbell’s “Armadillo Village” spins a wide Texas grin in the telling. “Mementos of an Only Child,” by
Dominick Cancilla, evokes a chill though it’s a snippet of a story at barely two pages, and Marc Paoletti’s “Depths” wallows
convincingly in the protagonist’s despair. The others range from good to so-so, and there are no obvious clunkers.
For an uneven grouping of stories, Young Blood succeeds admirably in capturing the essence of modern macabre—the short
becomes sweet by nature of its sparseness. Editor Baker has a winner here, even if it could have been just a bit more varied in
style. But at the very least, the shortness allows a look at more new talent—and that is never a bad thing. Recommended for
mature readers, due to its often graphic content.
7 Steps to Midnight by Richard Matheson. TOR/Forge. $22.95 hc
Richard Matheson is a master, make no mistake about it.
Author of innumerable stories, novels (such as the classic Hell House, The Shrinking Man, and I Am Legend), and screenplays,
Matheson has always known exactly which buttons to push when.
He never stops pushing those buttons in this tale of Chris Barton, a government mathematician who wakes up from a strange
dream while at work, drives home, and finds a married couple living in his house—and using his name as if he did not exist.
Suddenly thrust into a nightmare, Chris finds himself the subject of a manhunt as mysterious agents, cops, and sundry
menacing types dog his every step, even as he runs from murder charges stemming from an accidental shooting during an
escape attempt. But who’s after him? Or, rather, who isn’t?
Someone helps Chris from afar, though, giving him money and supplies and air tickets to exotic cities when he needs them
most. Again, who? Who is Chris Barton’s guardian angel, and what is his game? Can Chris bring to bear his years of reading
thrillers and focus on his very real problems? How real are the threats on his life? Why do people who help him either die or
turn against him? And why is the beautiful English agent Alexsandra so perfect?
Can he trust her, and if not her, then whom?
This is the kind of book for which they coined the term “page-turner.” Plot-wise it’s a cross between Hitchcock’s two “Man Who
Knew Too Much” movies and “North by Northwest,” as well as Desmond Bagley’s novel The Tightrope Men and Philip K. Dick’s
Time Out of Joint.
Though it wields much suspense and action, this is however a flawed work. The somewhat silly ending seems telegraphed
from early on—so much so that I found myself hoping I was wrong and disappointed when I wasn’t. I am marginally
recommending 7 Steps to Midnight despite this problem—like a trip much more rewarding than its destination, the ride is quite
delicious. Matheson never slows the action, and indeed almost carries off the end on inertia alone. If this novel serves as an
introduction to Matheson’s other work, readers will be well-served.
Chances are, it’ll make a great movie.
There isn’t much space to describe them in detail (and I hate to give them short shrift), but here are three recent anthologies that
might quench your thirst for shorter, beach-and-picnic-length Literature Fantastique:
Grails: Quests of the Dawn edited by Richard Gilliam, Martin H. Greenberg, and Edward E. Kramer. ROC Books/Penguin. $9.95
tr pb
The editorial triumvirate who brought you Confederacy of the Dead, reunite with a new theme—the Holy Grail. This first volume
of a double set includes stories (and some verse) by Jane Yolen, Gene Wolfe, Alan Dean Foster, Kristine Kathryn Rusch,
Charles Grant (in his Lionel Fenn guise), Orson Scott Card, Andre Norton, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Mercedes Lackey, and 16
others.
An epic anthology, full of epics for our—and most other—times. If Arthurian Legend and its propagation through the ages has
enchanted you, this anthology is for you.
The Year’s Best Horror Stories: XXI edited by Karl Edward Wagner. DAW Books. $5.50 pb orig
Karl Edward Wagner’s long-running series of anthologies is renowned for his willingness to comb less well-known publications
for his reprints. The results are always engaging collections of voices, and this volume is no exception. Ramsey Campbell, Ed
Gorman, Kim Newman, Wayne Allen Sallee, Yvonne Navarro, Michael Arnzen, and Carrie Richerson are notables from the list of
26 authors, which also features a number of highly talented newcomers.
By Any Other Fame edited by Mike Resnick and Martin H. Greenberg. DAW Books. $4.99 pb orig
Another excellent addition to the field of alternate history, this humor-filled “what if?” anthology allows its writers to tackle famous
personalities (such as Humphrey Bogart, Marilyn Monroe, Groucho Marx, FDR, Adolf Hitler, Bonnie and Clyde, Charlie Chaplin,
Elvis, etc.), sending them “down entirely new pathways of destiny.”
Writers Barry Malzberg, Nancy Kress, Mercedes Lackey, David Gerrold, George Alec Effinger, Judith Tarr, Dean Wesley Smith,
Ginjer Buchanan, and 15 others answer the call, making this a great cross-genre anthology—brought to you in part by UW Green
Bay professor and master co-anthologist, Martin H. Greenberg.
Recommended for People Magazine readers everywhere! ∆
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