Bog People: A Working-Class Anthology of Folk Horror

by Hollie Starling (Editor)

Unleash the dark and delirious with this electrifying anthology of folk horror from some of Britain's most iconic working-class voices

A phonograph cylinder that plays on a loop for eternity, casting out ghostly spectres of violence; a centuries-old stew made of severed body parts; a bigoted woman working at an ossuary, the bones she watches over her only remaining friends; three siblings who set out to scatter their father's ashes, a man none of them could stand; and a hag stone sitting in the pocket of a witch.

Uncanny and unsettling, wild and wyrd, the ten stories in this collection showcase the best of folk horror. Set in and across England, they celebrate working-class culture and history, and, sharp as a guillotine blade, reveal the real monsters that stalk our green and pleasant land.

Includes writing from:
A.K. Blakemore, Daniel Draper, Emma Glass, Mark Colbourne, Mark Stafford, Hollie Starling, Jenn Ashworth, Natasha Carthew, Salena Godden and Tom Benn.

Genres: Horror, Short Stories, Fiction, Anthologies, Adult, Short Story Collection, Contemporary

320 pages, Hardcover

First published October 1, 2025

Reviews

[Gyalten Lekden · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dark and contemplative, this brief anthology, just 10 stories, has a strong sense of place. The stories are diverse but all fall into a somewhat subdued, almost melancholic mode, where history and tradition intersect with everyday life, bidden or not. The idea of using folk horror to explicitly explore working class stories is a clever one, and I enjoyed how both of those frameworks were played with across the stories. None of the stories really shook me or took my breath away, but I had fun with all of them. Daniel Draper’s Perpetual Stew, Hollie Starling’s Yellowbelly, and Salena Godden’s I am Hagstone were standouts for me in this collection, but each story offers something different and as a whole the collection is well-curated. There is nothing particularly flashy about any of these stories, they all thrum with a type of quiet dread, a preternatural dissonance that settles just beneath the skin.

(Rounded from 3.5)

[Sophy H · Rating 5 out of 5]

WOW!! Just wow!

The working class have done us proud here, what a fabulous collection of stories.

The sense of dread, despair, unease and creepiness is evident throughout all of these gems of horror writing.

Each author has caught a very different thread and tapped into a unique fear to present storytelling at its finest.

I'd say the only story out the bunch that didn't capture my attention was It Fair Give Me the Spikes which felt a little too abstract and disjointed to be an enjoyable read. The rest of the anthology was absolutely 5 star class.

[Katrina Clarke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Absolutely excellent short story collection. Shocking, localised, entertaining and sometimes meaningful. A couple didn't land for me, but the rest were cracking!

Amazing intro and reading list
Horrible lady who hangs out with skulls
Village soup and brother jealousy
Mother of lost child stuck in the mud
Overanalyzing of an obscure folk rock band
AI girlfriend learning about social history
Siblings visiting abandoned hotel to scatter ashes
Lost mother and an island of secrets
Anti-bad-boyfriend hagstone
Meh.

[Dale Parnell · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wanted to read this book as soon as I heard about it, and more so - I wanted to love it. Growing up working-class is a strange thing, but not without its artistic inspirations.
There are working-class TV shows (the soap operas are the biggest example), working-class film and film stars (those actors who grew up poor and fought for their place in Hollywood), and working-class music (whole genres created by poor, struggling kids on rough council estates).
But I don't think I had ever read a working-class book - or rather, I had never read a story written by a working-class writer. I may have done, and I apologise to any authors that I'm mis-class'ing. But nothing had ever felt really... gritty and down at the level I grew up in. I'm not saying I grew up a Dickensian orphan, but I was fully aware of the different class status of the kids at school - the houses and tastes and jobs the other parents had. And whilst it didnt exactly put a 'chip' on my shoulder, it is something that I have been vaguely aware of my whole life.
And so, to Bog People.
I think what struck me most of all, was the anger.
The anger of the characters - of their place in the world, their station and limitations.
But also my anger. The editor, and contributing author, Hollie Starling says in her excellent introductory essay that - "Those vested in the maintenance of capital-driven systems of control have worked hard to distract from one of history's most abiding truths: that there are more of us than them."
This was like a rallying cry, a call to arms, a stirring of my working-class soul to action. It was interesting to read that this country has always worked roughly the same as it does now - keeping the rich rich and the poor poor.
The stories felt like history, because maybe they have all been played out a hundred times before, in a hundred council estates and farming villages.
It is odd to glance over the notes I made of the stories as I read them, as the words that jump out time and again are - bleak, angry, sad, familiar, inevitable.
But there were also moments of lyrical beauty and solid, relatable characters who's story moved me.
And through it all, you come to understand (if you didn't have a firm grasp on the definition already) what folk horror is. Whilst it is linked with the land, it is also linked with the people who work it (in all the modern connotations that meaning now has). It isn't about lamenting your place as a working-person, but rather defending your rights and holding anyone who would seek to take advantage of you to rights.
I loved this book. For the stories, for the excellent writing and the slow, creeping horror. But also for the fire it stirred inside me. For the window it opened and the realities it showed me of what it is to be, and be seen as, a working-class person.

[Olivia · Rating 5 out of 5]

I devoured this book - it was fantastic. I’m a great lover of folk horror, and each story in this collection brought something fresh to the genre. And that’s before one even mentions the fabulous focus on working class writers - whilst none of the stories were focused on my home town of Doncaster, the stories felt relatable and meaningful to me - as I’m sure they will for many others. Sheer perfection.

[John Stewart-Sykes · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is probably the best collection of short stories I've ever read. Each of them was so unique in its story, narrative and style, and each of them left me thinking of something different.

This is particularly true for 'Eldritch', by Mark Colbourne, which is probably going to become my favourite horror short story. From the very concept of it, to the delivery, and the narration, I was absolutely hooked throughout

[Dan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a great collection, I don't think there's a weak story in here, and I love the exploration and expression of folk horror beyond the 1970s.

Eldritch is a lovely twist on a cursed artwork story, Perpetual Stew is perhaps my favourite? Though Yellowbelly is a marvellous modern take, and It Fair Give Me The Spikes is a great haunting (again, in a very modern understanding of how a haunting can work).

[Samantha van Buuren · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really enjoyed reading this over all, but I found quite a few of the stories uninteresting so I cant go any higher than 3 stars. I kept notes of each story as I read, which you can find below.

The Ossary: Boring and uneventful.

Perpetual Stew: Brilliant!! Why don't we get to know what happens?! Though I guess we can assume... I would have liked to see the younger brother win it.

Carole: Odd one. A mother leaves a hearing in court about her daughter's death, starts walking and doesn't stop until she sinks in a bog and drowns. I found it interesting. I wanted to know what happened and the people she comes across as she walks and sinks are very odd. A sad ending, if not anticlimactic.

Eldritch: Fantastic beginning... the rest was rather dull.

The Spit in Your Mouth and the Bile in Your Stomach: Loved that there's a graphic short story included!! And a quick enjoyable read.

Yellowbelly: A story of a sex robot being inspired by folklore to rise up against her owner. Very good, I enjoyed this one.

The Hanging Stones: I don't get the point of this one. 3 siblings scatter their father's ashes in the moors, the place gets misty. End of story. It's well written and the characters well fleshed out, but the story is pointless.

The Keepers: I enjoyed this one, but it feels like there are massive chunks of story missing that we'll never get to see.

I Am Hagstone: I liked this one. Reading the story from the pov of the hagstone was really interesting! It's well written and full of drama, driven to the extreme by a demon inhabiting the hagstone. Brilliant autumn read.

It Fair Give Me The Spikes: I found this one incredibly hard to follow. Not a fan.

[W.S. Luk · Rating 3 out of 5]

A pet peeve of mine is horror fiction that tries a little too hard for metaphorical or social significance and ends up scanting the need for frights—as much as I like a good bit of incisive social commentary, I also very much enjoy reading about people getting killed by ghosts, demons, witches, or ghost demon witches. BOG PEOPLE, for all its well-crafted prose, often struggles on this front, delivering a few primarily realist works which emphasise the "folk" far more than the "horror".

However, a few stories in this anthology find a more successful balance between the two. "Perpetual Stew" is a punchy little story about cannibalism and stifling family ties; the latter anxiety also dogs "The Keepers", which blends this theme with an exploration of tradition and ownership over land. "Eldritch", framed as the review of the eponymous folk album by a journalist who's since disappeared, uses this clever conceit to discuss the history of the folk-music revival (even if the conclusion of the story somewhat runs out of steam amidst the jarring arrival of a supernatural presence). My favourite works in this anthology are probably Salena Godden's "I am Hagstone", which puts a contemporary twist on the classic premise of witchcraft and cursed objects with a story, narrated by the titular magical stone, of infidelity and female power, as well as Mark Stafford's beautifully illustrated comic "The Spit in Your Mouth and the Bile in Your Stomach", which finds a satisfyingly simple payoff in a brief plot inspired by urban legends and fairytales.

[India (IndiaReadsALot) · Rating 4 out of 5]

RTC

[Courtney (moyashi_girl) · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked Bog People! It's an anthology of folk horror set in England that celebrates working-class culture and history.
I really liked the premise of this book and overall I enjoyed most of the stories as many of them had some interesting ideas.
My absolute favourite out of all the stories was Perpetual Stew. It has family drama and a creepy village tradition around a centuries-old stew that has a disturbing main ingredient in it.
It was definitely the best story in the collection and I really wish we got to see how it ended; but I also enjoyed being able to guess for myself.

I do wish some of the stories included were scarier as a few of them barely felt like horror at all.
Overall this was still an enjoyable read that I'd recommend checking out.
My individual ratings for each story are:
▫️The Ossuary - 2⭐️
▫️Perpetual Stew - 5⭐️
▫️Carole - 3⭐️
▫️Eldritch - 4⭐️
▫️The Spit in your Mouth and the Bile in your Stomach - 4⭐️
▫️Yellowbelly - 4⭐️
▫️The Hanging Stones - 3⭐️
▫️The Keepers - 3⭐️
▫️I am Hagstone - 4⭐️
▫️If Fair Give Me the Spikes - 3⭐️

[Ruth · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very good anthology, always hard to rate as some you love, some not so much. But the overall standard was high. Favourites: Perpetual Stew, Carole and Yellowbelly.

[Tim Pendry · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had high hopes for this anthology based on the first three excellent stories but it rather drifts down hill after that. The premise is a good one - that folk horror has looked at the working class as the 'other', often in negative terms, and that a correction is worth making.

The introduction is a solid and thoughtful explanation of where the book is coming although it presages the book by declining into a bit of a rant towards the end. Is this a book about the working class or about the frustrated outrage of would-be escapees from that class with literary aspirations?

Over half the authors are women which should be a fair and good thing but some of them have confused feminist politics with working class politics. The portrayal of men in these pieces is certainly not providing much in the way of solidarity.

The Editor, Hollie Starling, provides a well written story but it is of this type. Its link to folk horror is tenuous to say the least. It is an aggressive and murderous piece of science fiction horror masquerading as folk in which ball-cutting revenge by a sex bot is riddled with hatred.

Most of the stories are fine if not inspiring, although the last two are literary to the point of self-indulgence (witchery in Hastings) or obscurity. This last - 'It Fair Give Me The Spikes' by Tom Benn - is a linguistically accomplished ghost story marred by its sustained incomprehensibility.

Earlier than this, there is a weird fantasy response to 'The Wicker Man' from a quasi-class angle (Cornish fisher folk in this case) that actually ends up with something that might be classed as a 'happy ending'. Happy endings are not part of the genre description.

So, let us praise the first three stories as well above the average, worth considering for future anthologies. In these stories, the authors maintain both the horror and the ordinariness of existence and some decent relation to the genre they are supposed to be emulating.

The first is the best - 'The Ossuary' by A. K Blakemore - which is rather subversive of the Editor's avowed intent. The publisher might have hoped (from the blurb) that we would despise the aged prejudiced guardian of bones but Blakemore presents her with real sympathy.

It is a subtle story in which the pricks are the liberal leftie children who are pompous and callous while two urban Asians behave unpleasantly amongst her bones. She is a cultural dinosaur doomed to extinction but she is also a person. Blakemore treats her as such.

Daniel Draper's 'Perpetual Stew' could so easily have gone wrong with its outrageous premise of a mining village held together by grand guignol petty cannibalism but he pulls it off because of his close observation of working class life and his allegiance to the tropes of folk horror.

Finally, Emma Glass' fantasy of grief over the death of a child that leads to the willing immersion of a mother in the ancient earth works because the fantasy is embedded in absolute fidelity to the powerful emotions involved. It is quietly devastating as it turns from realism into folk tale.

These three stories make an otherwise very uneven collection well worth owning. It is certainly not that there is anything truly bad in it (though one or two come close) but that the 'working class' writers were perhaps not pushed hard enough to meet the brief by the editorial team.

As to its working class authenticity, I find it hard to judge - the idea of the working class has transformed from the idea of a class defined by its relationship to the means of production to something more amorphous as those left behind by neo-liberal economics.

The purpose of the book (a worthy one) was ostensibly to reverse the patronising assumptions of 'The Wicker Man' and of urban horror writers who positioned rural and other working class communities as containing some threat to 'nice' educated middle class people. Grammar school patrony!

The much-appreciated Nigel Kneale was always a bourgeois at heart who feared the mob whether urban or rural as becomes clear from any sensible reading of 'Quatermass and the Pit' and 'Quatermass IV' (both the epitome of intelligent science fiction-based folk horror).

Similarly most of the neo-pagans who swear by 'The Wicker Man' seem deliberately forgetful that the film was an attack on irrationality, paganism and the suggestibility and weakness of ordinary folk. A literary challenge to all this was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the challenge is not coming from 'authentic' communities but from individuals who are part of or aspirant to becoming part of a particular and increasingly proletarianised artistic and creative community that is threatened with extinction in economically troubled times.

The working class communities here are largely being 'imagined' in no less a manner than they were 'imagined' negatively by their 'bourgeois' predecessors. Nothing wrong with that - Irvine Welsh 'imagines' his amoral thugs in much the same way and creates great literature.

However, the atomisation and fragmentation of the working class and the replacement of positive 'socialist' or 'labour' politics with the politics of identity and 'ressentiment' creates something that is more petit-bourgeois than proletarian.

This creates uneasiness as to authentic appropriation of working class tropes precisely because the appropriation is for a politics as unrecognisable to most traditional working people as would be the top-down social democratic and patronising politics of past denizens of Hampstead.

Still, I wish all the authors well. Most of them have huge potential to refine their art. It is good that the anthology was attempted. If only the rather vicious man-hating (which is anti-working class) aspects could be removed and the final step taken from the identity politics of the liberal Left!

[Els Willems · Rating 3 out of 5]

Kadootje van een lieve vriendin uit de boekhandel! Een aantal verhalen vond ik erg sterk: Perpetual Stew van Daniel Draper en The Keepers van Natasha Cartew o.a. vooral omdat de folklore een hoofdrol speelt en de horror minder gruwelijk is, meer psychologisch. Niet zo gecharmeerd van het stripje en het laatste verhaal. Al met al een fijne bundel voor liefhebbers van Folk Horror en films als The Wicker Man en Midsommar (die laatste vond ik doodeng).

[Anti-scholar · Rating 3 out of 5]

These stories weren't written by working class people at all. there's also some double standards at work: if a man is evil, he's a foul ugly pig. If a woman is evil, she's a righteous sexy witch. tired of reading contemporary fiction written exclusively for the stuck-up middle class. I was hoping for something different but didn't get it here. Yellowbelly was alright. 3.5

[Gabrielle · Rating 4 out of 5]

An unexpected treat. Funny and very original. I loved the format of 'Eldritch'. The entire anthology is worth reading for 'Yellowbelly' by Hollie Starling alone. Perceptive, insightful and haunting, like looking into a dark mirror. Unfortunately 'It Fair Give Me the Spikes' was a dud, I would recommend stopping reading after 'I Am Hagstone'.

[Toni Langley · Rating 4 out of 5]

There were only two I didn't like/follow so well, but all the others were creepy and fun in a morbid sense, bit messed up, excellent 👻

[Dan Howarth · Rating 4 out of 5]

All of the stories were well written, however a couple were just a little pedestrian for my taste. Perpetual Stew was my favourite here. All stories well read on Audible.

[Christine Best · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really good creepy short stories.