What do you think?
Rate this book
The Kind Folk
Fairies Are Real, and They're Coming for You
Luke Arnold is a successful stage comedian who, with his partner Sophie Drew, is about to have their first child. Their life seems ideal and Luke feels that true happiness is finally within his grasp.
This wasn't always the case. Growing up in a loving but dysfunctional family, Luke was a lonely little boy who never felt that he belonged. While his parents adored him, the whole family knew that due to a mix-up at the hospital, Luke wasn't their biological child. His parents did the best they could to make the lad feel special. But it was his beloved uncle Terence who Luke felt most close to, a man who enchanted (and frightened) the lad with tales of the "Other"--eldritch beings, hedge folks, and other fables of Celtic myth.
When Terence dies in a freak accident, Luke suddenly begins to learn how little he really knew his uncle. How serious was Terence about the magic in his tales? Why did he travel so widely by himself after Luke was born, and what was he looking for? Soon Luke will have to confront forces that may be older than the world in order to save his unborn child.
Luke Arnold is a successful stage comedian who, with his partner Sophie Drew, is about to have their first child. Their life seems ideal and Luke feels that true happiness is finally within his grasp.
This wasn't always the case. Growing up in a loving but dysfunctional family, Luke was a lonely little boy who never felt that he belonged. While his parents adored him, the whole family knew that due to a mix-up at the hospital, Luke wasn't their biological child. His parents did the best they could to make the lad feel special. But it was his beloved uncle Terence who Luke felt most close to, a man who enchanted (and frightened) the lad with tales of the "Other"--eldritch beings, hedge folks, and other fables of Celtic myth.
When Terence dies in a freak accident, Luke suddenly begins to learn how little he really knew his uncle. How serious was Terence about the magic in his tales? Why did he travel so widely by himself after Luke was born, and what was he looking for? Soon Luke will have to confront forces that may be older than the world in order to save his unborn child.
224 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 2012
42 people are currently reading
520 people want to read
About the author
Ramsey Campbell
860 books1,599 followersRamsey Campbell is a British writer considered by a number of critics to be one of the great masters of horror fiction. T. E. D. Klein has written that "Campbell reigns supreme in the field today," while S. T. Joshi has said that "future generations will regard him as the leading horror writer of our generation, every bit the equal of Lovecraft or Blackwood."
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 65 reviews
August 26, 2016
2.5 of 5 stars at The BiblioSanctum https://bibliosanctum.com/2016/08/26/...
I wish I had enjoyed this more, but when a novel of just a smidgen over two hundred pages takes me more than a week to read, something’s definitely not working for me, and I think I know what it is. While the premise behind The Kind Folk is certainly compelling, and horror novelist Ramsey Campbell sure knows his stuff when it comes to creating dread and suspense, I nevertheless had a difficult time getting used to his writing style and technique, which ultimately affected my overall enjoyment of the story and its characters. Of course when it comes down to an author’s writing style, each individual reader’s mileage may vary, so you may still wish to give this book a try if the story sounds like something that would interest you.
Imagine finding out you are not who you’ve always thought you were, and for the moment to play out on television in front of a nationwide audience. Luke is a 30-year-old standup comedian who along with his parents Maurice and Freda are called up to appear on Brittan’s Resolutions, a fictional Maury-like British daytime talk show which specializes in paternity tests. Maurice has long held suspicions that his son was actually fathered by his brother, Luke’s uncle Terence, and so the whole family has been subjected to a round of DNA testing. The results? Terence is NOT the father! Queue the collective sighs of relief and tears and joy. But before the congratulations can go around, the host drops another surprise: Maurice, you are also NOT the father! And yet, it’s the final bombshell that stuns everyone: DNA shows that Freda isn’t Luke’s mother either.
Reeling from the news, the family concludes that a mistake must have been made at the hospital when Luke was born, and somehow babies have been switched. Luke thus begins his quest to track down his biological parents, hoping that the knowledge would shed light on his medical history because he and his girlfriend Sophie are expecting their own baby very soon. He begins by approaching Terence for help, since Luke has always been close to his uncle, but Terence’s sudden death puts an end to that plan. Instead, Luke searches for clues in Terence’s journal, which the older man had filled with rambling, disjointed notes on his obsession with mythology and the occult going all the way back to a time just before Luke was born.
Terence had written about going to various locations around Britain seeking something, with the words KIND FOLK cropping up in the journal more than a few times. At first, Luke takes this to mean that the locals Terence met were nice and helpful, but as he traces his uncle’s steps, he begins to see strange unsettling things, and more than once he could have sworn he saw an inhuman creature following him out of the corner of his eye.
The mentions of “Kind Folk” of course were references to Faeries. These are the real scary ones too, and not your Disney-fied versions or even the beautiful, cruel tricksters you often see in urban fantasy. The ones in this book are so, so, so much worse. They don’t even look entirely human, with their elongated limbs and pale shapeless faces bearing a poor facsimile of regular features like eyes and mouths. The book also describes them doing this hideous thing with their hands, and I don’t know why, but there’s just something so hair-raisingly disturbing when it comes to extreme bodily contortions, which is probably why exorcism movies employ this device so much.
While there were times where I wish there had been more “horror” in this story, especially during sections where the plot meanders, this novel definitely had its terrifying moments, and almost without exception those scenes all involved the Folk. Whenever they appear, things immediately become creepy as hell. At the heart of this book is also the Changeling myth, based on old folk tales about how the Fae steal newborn babies by replacing them with a doppelganger who is one of their own. This is obviously relevant to Luke’s situation, but with the impending arrival of his own child, there’s this further sense that time is running out, adding a layer of suspense and dread as the baby’s due date ticks closer and closer.
Now for the main reason why this book didn’t work as well for me: Campbell’s writing has a very stark, bare-bones quality to it, with very little description. Coupled with a heavy reliance on dialogue, certain scenes can be difficult to follow. A character will say something, often without accompanying context, leaving me guessing at what he or she means by that. At the same time, when the author does describe the physical environment, he would sometimes use overly complicated clunky metaphors used to relay very simple ideas.
Hard as I tried, I also couldn’t get into the characters. There’s barely any emotion to them, and they seem to treat major events like any other normal day. A husband accuses his wife of being unfaithful, to the extent they all have to appear on a national daytime talk show to sort it out, and the next day they go just back to being a regular old married couple with all the tensions and marital conflicts forgotten. Luke’s uncle Terence dies, and everyone treats it with the gravitas of a trip to the mall. I also didn’t like Luke very much. He barely had a personality, even though he’s supposed to be a very successful comedian, charming audiences with his talent for imitations. His reaction to the DNA results also made me want to punch him in the face. Blood parents or not, for thirty years they raised him and loved him, but suddenly with the snap of the fingers it’s not “Mum” and “Dad” anymore, it’s “Freda” and “Maurice”—and he even goes as far as to change this for their contacts in his phone! I mean, SERIOUSLY, LUKE?! But of course, Freda and Maurice’s response to all of this is the equivalence of a shrug—no sadness, no anger, no hurt, no nothing.
The Kind Folk could have been a real winner, and certainly it contained all of the right ingredients. Unfortunately, it was the execution that really fell flat for me. With all these great ideas here, this novel could have been one of the most terrifying books I read this year, but while it did indeed have its frightening moments, the horror never really sustained itself due to some untidy plotting and weak characterization. If you can get into the writing, this would be a really fast read though, and might be worth a look if you want a book about some truly terrifying Faeries.
I wish I had enjoyed this more, but when a novel of just a smidgen over two hundred pages takes me more than a week to read, something’s definitely not working for me, and I think I know what it is. While the premise behind The Kind Folk is certainly compelling, and horror novelist Ramsey Campbell sure knows his stuff when it comes to creating dread and suspense, I nevertheless had a difficult time getting used to his writing style and technique, which ultimately affected my overall enjoyment of the story and its characters. Of course when it comes down to an author’s writing style, each individual reader’s mileage may vary, so you may still wish to give this book a try if the story sounds like something that would interest you.
Imagine finding out you are not who you’ve always thought you were, and for the moment to play out on television in front of a nationwide audience. Luke is a 30-year-old standup comedian who along with his parents Maurice and Freda are called up to appear on Brittan’s Resolutions, a fictional Maury-like British daytime talk show which specializes in paternity tests. Maurice has long held suspicions that his son was actually fathered by his brother, Luke’s uncle Terence, and so the whole family has been subjected to a round of DNA testing. The results? Terence is NOT the father! Queue the collective sighs of relief and tears and joy. But before the congratulations can go around, the host drops another surprise: Maurice, you are also NOT the father! And yet, it’s the final bombshell that stuns everyone: DNA shows that Freda isn’t Luke’s mother either.
Reeling from the news, the family concludes that a mistake must have been made at the hospital when Luke was born, and somehow babies have been switched. Luke thus begins his quest to track down his biological parents, hoping that the knowledge would shed light on his medical history because he and his girlfriend Sophie are expecting their own baby very soon. He begins by approaching Terence for help, since Luke has always been close to his uncle, but Terence’s sudden death puts an end to that plan. Instead, Luke searches for clues in Terence’s journal, which the older man had filled with rambling, disjointed notes on his obsession with mythology and the occult going all the way back to a time just before Luke was born.
Terence had written about going to various locations around Britain seeking something, with the words KIND FOLK cropping up in the journal more than a few times. At first, Luke takes this to mean that the locals Terence met were nice and helpful, but as he traces his uncle’s steps, he begins to see strange unsettling things, and more than once he could have sworn he saw an inhuman creature following him out of the corner of his eye.
The mentions of “Kind Folk” of course were references to Faeries. These are the real scary ones too, and not your Disney-fied versions or even the beautiful, cruel tricksters you often see in urban fantasy. The ones in this book are so, so, so much worse. They don’t even look entirely human, with their elongated limbs and pale shapeless faces bearing a poor facsimile of regular features like eyes and mouths. The book also describes them doing this hideous thing with their hands, and I don’t know why, but there’s just something so hair-raisingly disturbing when it comes to extreme bodily contortions, which is probably why exorcism movies employ this device so much.
While there were times where I wish there had been more “horror” in this story, especially during sections where the plot meanders, this novel definitely had its terrifying moments, and almost without exception those scenes all involved the Folk. Whenever they appear, things immediately become creepy as hell. At the heart of this book is also the Changeling myth, based on old folk tales about how the Fae steal newborn babies by replacing them with a doppelganger who is one of their own. This is obviously relevant to Luke’s situation, but with the impending arrival of his own child, there’s this further sense that time is running out, adding a layer of suspense and dread as the baby’s due date ticks closer and closer.
Now for the main reason why this book didn’t work as well for me: Campbell’s writing has a very stark, bare-bones quality to it, with very little description. Coupled with a heavy reliance on dialogue, certain scenes can be difficult to follow. A character will say something, often without accompanying context, leaving me guessing at what he or she means by that. At the same time, when the author does describe the physical environment, he would sometimes use overly complicated clunky metaphors used to relay very simple ideas.
Hard as I tried, I also couldn’t get into the characters. There’s barely any emotion to them, and they seem to treat major events like any other normal day. A husband accuses his wife of being unfaithful, to the extent they all have to appear on a national daytime talk show to sort it out, and the next day they go just back to being a regular old married couple with all the tensions and marital conflicts forgotten. Luke’s uncle Terence dies, and everyone treats it with the gravitas of a trip to the mall. I also didn’t like Luke very much. He barely had a personality, even though he’s supposed to be a very successful comedian, charming audiences with his talent for imitations. His reaction to the DNA results also made me want to punch him in the face. Blood parents or not, for thirty years they raised him and loved him, but suddenly with the snap of the fingers it’s not “Mum” and “Dad” anymore, it’s “Freda” and “Maurice”—and he even goes as far as to change this for their contacts in his phone! I mean, SERIOUSLY, LUKE?! But of course, Freda and Maurice’s response to all of this is the equivalence of a shrug—no sadness, no anger, no hurt, no nothing.
The Kind Folk could have been a real winner, and certainly it contained all of the right ingredients. Unfortunately, it was the execution that really fell flat for me. With all these great ideas here, this novel could have been one of the most terrifying books I read this year, but while it did indeed have its frightening moments, the horror never really sustained itself due to some untidy plotting and weak characterization. If you can get into the writing, this would be a really fast read though, and might be worth a look if you want a book about some truly terrifying Faeries.
June 12, 2013
One of my most enjoyable reading experiences occurred when I was about 18 and I devoured Algernon Blackwood’s “Ancient Sorceries” in one sitting. The prose purred (in-joke, folks) and the whole thing left me with that satiated feeling in my belly, which only literary fiction can achieve, the sensation that folk who only ever watch films will never understand.
Anyway, fond memories lingered, but then a few years ago, I reread it. They say it’s dangerous to go back and thus it proved. I enjoyed the novella all over again, but it didn’t do what it did on that first reading. Oh, I don’t know: maybe I was just “in the mood” back then.
In any case, ever since that day, I’ve been seeking similar reading experiences. Lots of authors “do it” for me: the exotic jauntiness of Martin Amis; the bullish insistence of Lovecraft; the cheery gravity of Stephen King; and a bunch of other fine folk. But there’s one author whose prose has always captivated me, and his name is Ramsey Campbell.
I have so many memorable experiences of reading Campbell’s fiction, but I’ll name only a few here: the elevator scenes in The Overnight; the descent into the house in Thieving Fear; and pretty much all of The Grin of the Dark. There are plenty more, and I certainly disagree with anyone who believes his early work is stronger. I find much of the recent stuff every bit as powerful, and – perhaps more significantly – far more artful in execution.
Take The Kind Folk. The prose is elegant and suggestive, never lapsing into transparency or cliché. Campbell’s mature style is a symphony of many techniques developed over a long career. The reader is never quite sure what’s happening in a later Campbell novel. Dialogue stated explicitly may be snatched back by the author in the following line. A character’s perception may indeed look like that, but a moment later, we’re told how wrong s/he is. Such crafty technique and sleight-of-hand destabilises the narrative, rendering it fluid and elusive, sneaky and disarming. Effects accumulate; the sum of a certain phrase is determined by all that has gone before it, and that takes careful, literarily adroit work.
The plot, too, has its implications, its latent metaphors and interpretative possibilities. Who hasn’t felt as Luke feels throughout the book, as if he’s merely a collection of mimicked gestures acquired from people he’s known? Is Campbell suggesting that all people, outside of a book, are just imitations of others – that we’re all like the Kind Folk? Or maybe the book is autobiographical, with the Folk representing artists, who live deeply in the world and dredge up truths for those in search of them. These were certainly thoughts I had while reading, but they might not be what the author intended. But yes, I know that I’m allowed my own interpretations and that they’re no less valid than the creator's. I'm sure others will come up with different meanings, but that's testament to the reticence and richness of the novel.
There are many more things to admire in this decidedly quiet book: one lengthy scene of dialogue, during which Campbell has several people conversing without any speaker attribution. It’s like spinning plates and is quite a feat…until again, the author plays another trick on us (just as the Kind Folk play tricks on Luke). Another fine scene involves a child speaking a single word repeatedly, but only one character – as well as us, the privileged readers – hearing it that way. Creepy as hell. Then there’s the many throwaway phrases, finely judged imagery that adds to the whole mass: five electricity cables populated by birds that resemble, in the author’s words, notes on a musical stave. The issue with the things’ hands. An oversized eye that is more than that, merely its tremendous pupil… Every pared down line seems natural and yet skilfully laboured over, the work of a careful writer in full command of his craft.
And so we return to “Ancient Sorceries” and my treasured reading experience so many years ago. For all their linguistic brilliance, few of my favourite authors can evoke similar moods in me, a delicate, mysterious aura that is near-hypnotic. But Campbell does this regularly. I felt this while reading The Grin of the Dark (“This guy is seriously warped!” I recall saying to my partner while reading the novel in my back garden a few years ago. When she looked at me askance, I added, “No, I mean, in a good way. He’s a fucking genius.”); I also experienced it during the descent into the house in Thieving Fear and while occupying that elevator in The Overnight. I guess what I’m saying is that, as great as his early work is, little of it is as strange, as beautiful and as compelling as this later stuff, the material Campbell produces now his mastery of craft grows stronger. The chills are more subtle but run deeper, last longer.
I loved The Kind Folk; like so much of what the author has always produced, it’s a unique reading experience. So hey, don’t bother waiting for the movie; get hold of the book now.
Anyway, fond memories lingered, but then a few years ago, I reread it. They say it’s dangerous to go back and thus it proved. I enjoyed the novella all over again, but it didn’t do what it did on that first reading. Oh, I don’t know: maybe I was just “in the mood” back then.
In any case, ever since that day, I’ve been seeking similar reading experiences. Lots of authors “do it” for me: the exotic jauntiness of Martin Amis; the bullish insistence of Lovecraft; the cheery gravity of Stephen King; and a bunch of other fine folk. But there’s one author whose prose has always captivated me, and his name is Ramsey Campbell.
I have so many memorable experiences of reading Campbell’s fiction, but I’ll name only a few here: the elevator scenes in The Overnight; the descent into the house in Thieving Fear; and pretty much all of The Grin of the Dark. There are plenty more, and I certainly disagree with anyone who believes his early work is stronger. I find much of the recent stuff every bit as powerful, and – perhaps more significantly – far more artful in execution.
Take The Kind Folk. The prose is elegant and suggestive, never lapsing into transparency or cliché. Campbell’s mature style is a symphony of many techniques developed over a long career. The reader is never quite sure what’s happening in a later Campbell novel. Dialogue stated explicitly may be snatched back by the author in the following line. A character’s perception may indeed look like that, but a moment later, we’re told how wrong s/he is. Such crafty technique and sleight-of-hand destabilises the narrative, rendering it fluid and elusive, sneaky and disarming. Effects accumulate; the sum of a certain phrase is determined by all that has gone before it, and that takes careful, literarily adroit work.
The plot, too, has its implications, its latent metaphors and interpretative possibilities. Who hasn’t felt as Luke feels throughout the book, as if he’s merely a collection of mimicked gestures acquired from people he’s known? Is Campbell suggesting that all people, outside of a book, are just imitations of others – that we’re all like the Kind Folk? Or maybe the book is autobiographical, with the Folk representing artists, who live deeply in the world and dredge up truths for those in search of them. These were certainly thoughts I had while reading, but they might not be what the author intended. But yes, I know that I’m allowed my own interpretations and that they’re no less valid than the creator's. I'm sure others will come up with different meanings, but that's testament to the reticence and richness of the novel.
There are many more things to admire in this decidedly quiet book: one lengthy scene of dialogue, during which Campbell has several people conversing without any speaker attribution. It’s like spinning plates and is quite a feat…until again, the author plays another trick on us (just as the Kind Folk play tricks on Luke). Another fine scene involves a child speaking a single word repeatedly, but only one character – as well as us, the privileged readers – hearing it that way. Creepy as hell. Then there’s the many throwaway phrases, finely judged imagery that adds to the whole mass: five electricity cables populated by birds that resemble, in the author’s words, notes on a musical stave. The issue with the things’ hands. An oversized eye that is more than that, merely its tremendous pupil… Every pared down line seems natural and yet skilfully laboured over, the work of a careful writer in full command of his craft.
And so we return to “Ancient Sorceries” and my treasured reading experience so many years ago. For all their linguistic brilliance, few of my favourite authors can evoke similar moods in me, a delicate, mysterious aura that is near-hypnotic. But Campbell does this regularly. I felt this while reading The Grin of the Dark (“This guy is seriously warped!” I recall saying to my partner while reading the novel in my back garden a few years ago. When she looked at me askance, I added, “No, I mean, in a good way. He’s a fucking genius.”); I also experienced it during the descent into the house in Thieving Fear and while occupying that elevator in The Overnight. I guess what I’m saying is that, as great as his early work is, little of it is as strange, as beautiful and as compelling as this later stuff, the material Campbell produces now his mastery of craft grows stronger. The chills are more subtle but run deeper, last longer.
I loved The Kind Folk; like so much of what the author has always produced, it’s a unique reading experience. So hey, don’t bother waiting for the movie; get hold of the book now.
February 19, 2021
4.5 stars. This book was such a pleasant surprise. The plot was quite slow-paced, but I loved the sense of magic and lore that was sustained throughout. There were a lot of uncanny descriptions that left me feeling unnerved, and more than made up for the relative lack of action. Honestly, if Campbell had cut out the plot and characters and just described the world that he created, I would have been satisfied.
I won't go into spoilers for the ending, except to say that it left me with a feeling that was unexpectedly bittersweet. It was that which made me round up my rating.
I won't go into spoilers for the ending, except to say that it left me with a feeling that was unexpectedly bittersweet. It was that which made me round up my rating.
August 20, 2016
This review originally appeared on New York Journal of Books: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-...
A warning to potential readers who may be lucky to have stumbled upon this book without knowing anything about it: The official synopsis spoils a key element of the plot. The fewer details that one knows of this novel, the more profound its effects.
The Kind Folk is the newest release from the UK’s esteemed master of disquiet, Ramsey Campbell—although in point of fact, it’s not exactly new at all. Originally published in limited form in 2012 by PS Publishing, it now has a wide market release by Tor, and deservedly so. This is a definitive showcase of Campbell’s many talents, not the least of which include finding a variety of ways of scaring the living daylights out of the reader.
This is the tale of Luke Arnold, a popular stage comedian and soon-to-be father who has recently been dealt an unusual dilemma: His father Maurice has had his family appear on a talk show for a televised DNA test . . . which proves that Luke is not his son.
For some time now, Maurice has been suspicious of the peculiar obsession that his brother Terrence has had with Luke, to the point that he suspected Terrence may be his true father. However, the test has proven more than that: Luke isn’t even a blood relative of the entire family—implying that there may have been some kind of mix-up at the hospital when he was born.
Luke’s parents are firm with their support of him, insisting that no matter his cuckoo-like origins, he’s their son, and they will love him no matter what. His partner Sophie, a successful singer, is every bit as supportive, trying to remind him that he is who he is, and nothing can change that.
Not much later, while performing at a club, Luke receives a phone call from Terence, requesting that Luke come see him at once; but when he arrives, it’s only in time to see his uncle suffer some kind of heart attack and die shortly after.
As Luke starts looking into his late uncle’s legacy and belongings, he uncovers a series of strange and at times sinister objects and clues, including a baffling journal and an inhuman skull. And it’s not long before shadowy figures begin to follow him everywhere he goes…
Although in some ways The Kind Folk contains elements that are somewhat typical to a Campbell tale (namely a slow-burn sense of creeping horror lurking ever closer in the background), it’s very much about how one’s own identity can be as much of a source of horror as anything around oneself.
Luke’s discoveries begin to affect his entire perspective of his upbringing and identity—and also start taking their toll upon his future. After all, if he’s not even whom he had always thought he was, then who is he? And given his mysterious heritage, what does it all mean for his unborn child?
Luke’s career as a stage comedian (especially as one with a knack for doing impressions) brings to mind similar characters in other novels such as The Hungry Moon (1987) and The Grin of the Dark(2008). Yet this is not an act of lazy characterization on Campbell’s part; just as with those novels, it’s very deliberate. As Luke’s reality begins to unravel, he starts positing his talent for impressions as a grim reflection of his lack of identity.
The shadow creeping into Luke’s tale is not only internal. From a very early scene onward, there are half-glimpsed figures stalking him, creeping about in trees, peering out from beyond highway partitions, and even lurking in the back aisles of comedy venues. At times, these stalking scenes are reminiscent of similar sequences in Campbell’s 1989 novel Ancient Images, yet injected with such vigor and terror that they are every bit as powerful.
“Jump scares” are used so frequently in fiction (as well as film) that readers often find them unimpressive and predictable; this is where Campbell stands far apart from the proverbial pack. He often stages his terrors to hide in plain sight, escalating the terror for both the protagonist and the reader as they come front and center into the narrative.
And it’s not even specific instances of overt terror that mark the high points; Campbell very finely weaves in a palpably claustrophobic mood of dread into seemingly every phrase. Take, for instance, an early scene in which Luke is exploring Terence’s messy house:
“Only one room is left—the front bedroom—and Luke pushes the door wide. The curtains are shut tight, which has to mean the figure he saw at the window was indeed a reflection, if he needed any proof. Although whatever color they once possessed has faded pale as fear, they still darken the room, and he has to take care not to tread on the objects that clutter the floor. When he takes hold of the curtains the heavy fabric seems to stir in his hands; he could fancy that he has roused handfuls of parasites—encouraged them to hatch, perhaps. In a moment the sensation evaporates like the memory of a dream, and he drags the curtains as far as they will stagger on the rusty rail.”
Indeed, in this scene, Luke is opening a set of curtains. It’s a very mundane action, in reality, yet it has to be one of the most unsettling descriptions the act that has probably ever been described in fiction.
In some ways, Campbell uses this “all-covering blanket of horror” as a means of cleverly concealing some other surprises in his narrative—namely, his at times disarming knack for humor. Campbell has defined his style as a “comedy of paranoia,” which is also a most fitting description of The Kind Folk.
Besides the fact that Luke is a comedian, there are some truly funny and even hilarious scenes in this novel, often accompanied by (or in the middle of) scenes of outright terror, leaving the reader giggling nervously.
There is a scene in the later half of the novel in which Luke is trying to explain some of his discoveries to Sophie. She says, “’I’m not following you, Luke,’” to which he responds, “’Let’s just hope nothing else has.’”
Totaling only a little more than 200 pages in length and featuring perfectly bite-sized chapters (each bearing an evocative, yet spoiler-free, title that warrants flipping back to fully appreciate), The Kind Folk is written in a lucid (and often disorienting) third-person present tense. Even as the tension mounts and the terrors unfold, the novel’s tempo hardly ever rises to a typical horror frolic; instead, it slowly, casually leads the reader helplessly along an ever-darkening corridor.
Campbell’s sensational use of the English language is put to perfect use in this novel, as with all his other works. With scenes of dark comedy, unsettling moods, and diabolical plotting, The Kind Folk is prime Campbell, and is a fine example of his authority in the horror genre.
A warning to potential readers who may be lucky to have stumbled upon this book without knowing anything about it: The official synopsis spoils a key element of the plot. The fewer details that one knows of this novel, the more profound its effects.
The Kind Folk is the newest release from the UK’s esteemed master of disquiet, Ramsey Campbell—although in point of fact, it’s not exactly new at all. Originally published in limited form in 2012 by PS Publishing, it now has a wide market release by Tor, and deservedly so. This is a definitive showcase of Campbell’s many talents, not the least of which include finding a variety of ways of scaring the living daylights out of the reader.
This is the tale of Luke Arnold, a popular stage comedian and soon-to-be father who has recently been dealt an unusual dilemma: His father Maurice has had his family appear on a talk show for a televised DNA test . . . which proves that Luke is not his son.
For some time now, Maurice has been suspicious of the peculiar obsession that his brother Terrence has had with Luke, to the point that he suspected Terrence may be his true father. However, the test has proven more than that: Luke isn’t even a blood relative of the entire family—implying that there may have been some kind of mix-up at the hospital when he was born.
Luke’s parents are firm with their support of him, insisting that no matter his cuckoo-like origins, he’s their son, and they will love him no matter what. His partner Sophie, a successful singer, is every bit as supportive, trying to remind him that he is who he is, and nothing can change that.
Not much later, while performing at a club, Luke receives a phone call from Terence, requesting that Luke come see him at once; but when he arrives, it’s only in time to see his uncle suffer some kind of heart attack and die shortly after.
As Luke starts looking into his late uncle’s legacy and belongings, he uncovers a series of strange and at times sinister objects and clues, including a baffling journal and an inhuman skull. And it’s not long before shadowy figures begin to follow him everywhere he goes…
Although in some ways The Kind Folk contains elements that are somewhat typical to a Campbell tale (namely a slow-burn sense of creeping horror lurking ever closer in the background), it’s very much about how one’s own identity can be as much of a source of horror as anything around oneself.
Luke’s discoveries begin to affect his entire perspective of his upbringing and identity—and also start taking their toll upon his future. After all, if he’s not even whom he had always thought he was, then who is he? And given his mysterious heritage, what does it all mean for his unborn child?
Luke’s career as a stage comedian (especially as one with a knack for doing impressions) brings to mind similar characters in other novels such as The Hungry Moon (1987) and The Grin of the Dark(2008). Yet this is not an act of lazy characterization on Campbell’s part; just as with those novels, it’s very deliberate. As Luke’s reality begins to unravel, he starts positing his talent for impressions as a grim reflection of his lack of identity.
The shadow creeping into Luke’s tale is not only internal. From a very early scene onward, there are half-glimpsed figures stalking him, creeping about in trees, peering out from beyond highway partitions, and even lurking in the back aisles of comedy venues. At times, these stalking scenes are reminiscent of similar sequences in Campbell’s 1989 novel Ancient Images, yet injected with such vigor and terror that they are every bit as powerful.
“Jump scares” are used so frequently in fiction (as well as film) that readers often find them unimpressive and predictable; this is where Campbell stands far apart from the proverbial pack. He often stages his terrors to hide in plain sight, escalating the terror for both the protagonist and the reader as they come front and center into the narrative.
And it’s not even specific instances of overt terror that mark the high points; Campbell very finely weaves in a palpably claustrophobic mood of dread into seemingly every phrase. Take, for instance, an early scene in which Luke is exploring Terence’s messy house:
“Only one room is left—the front bedroom—and Luke pushes the door wide. The curtains are shut tight, which has to mean the figure he saw at the window was indeed a reflection, if he needed any proof. Although whatever color they once possessed has faded pale as fear, they still darken the room, and he has to take care not to tread on the objects that clutter the floor. When he takes hold of the curtains the heavy fabric seems to stir in his hands; he could fancy that he has roused handfuls of parasites—encouraged them to hatch, perhaps. In a moment the sensation evaporates like the memory of a dream, and he drags the curtains as far as they will stagger on the rusty rail.”
Indeed, in this scene, Luke is opening a set of curtains. It’s a very mundane action, in reality, yet it has to be one of the most unsettling descriptions the act that has probably ever been described in fiction.
In some ways, Campbell uses this “all-covering blanket of horror” as a means of cleverly concealing some other surprises in his narrative—namely, his at times disarming knack for humor. Campbell has defined his style as a “comedy of paranoia,” which is also a most fitting description of The Kind Folk.
Besides the fact that Luke is a comedian, there are some truly funny and even hilarious scenes in this novel, often accompanied by (or in the middle of) scenes of outright terror, leaving the reader giggling nervously.
There is a scene in the later half of the novel in which Luke is trying to explain some of his discoveries to Sophie. She says, “’I’m not following you, Luke,’” to which he responds, “’Let’s just hope nothing else has.’”
Totaling only a little more than 200 pages in length and featuring perfectly bite-sized chapters (each bearing an evocative, yet spoiler-free, title that warrants flipping back to fully appreciate), The Kind Folk is written in a lucid (and often disorienting) third-person present tense. Even as the tension mounts and the terrors unfold, the novel’s tempo hardly ever rises to a typical horror frolic; instead, it slowly, casually leads the reader helplessly along an ever-darkening corridor.
Campbell’s sensational use of the English language is put to perfect use in this novel, as with all his other works. With scenes of dark comedy, unsettling moods, and diabolical plotting, The Kind Folk is prime Campbell, and is a fine example of his authority in the horror genre.
February 19, 2021
Probably closer to a 4, but the average rating is criminally low so I’m doing my part to bring it up. This is my first experience with Campbell, and everything I’ve heard is true. His prose is creepy, disorienting, and rewarding if you are willing to slow down while reading it. This is not a novel you can skim through and fully appreciate.
The story itself was pretty good, but I wouldn’t call this a plot driven book. It’’s also a bit too long, and some of the chapters in the back third felt like they were repeating the beats of previous chapters. Obviously, that was not a dealbreaker for me. The joy here is the atmosphere Campbell builds and the imagery he employs. I can see myself returning to chapters of this just to appreciate its style, and I will definitely be checking out more Campbell in the future.
The story itself was pretty good, but I wouldn’t call this a plot driven book. It’’s also a bit too long, and some of the chapters in the back third felt like they were repeating the beats of previous chapters. Obviously, that was not a dealbreaker for me. The joy here is the atmosphere Campbell builds and the imagery he employs. I can see myself returning to chapters of this just to appreciate its style, and I will definitely be checking out more Campbell in the future.
February 19, 2021
A very enjoyable, suitably creepy read. The sentence-level writing is often lovely, and the short chapters make this a page-turning read despite the denser prose. It's not an action-packed story, but really enjoyable to just sink into the story of questioning what's real with Luke, and trying to figure out the fairies.
My only real quibbles were the dialogue (please include tags next time!), and the strange reaction or off-take that characters have toward a sort of adoption element and *gasp* seeing a counsellor.
Beyond that, I'd recommend it! It was my first Campbell, and it has me wanting to check out more from this multi-award-winner.
My only real quibbles were the dialogue (please include tags next time!), and the strange reaction or off-take that characters have toward a sort of adoption element and *gasp* seeing a counsellor.
Beyond that, I'd recommend it! It was my first Campbell, and it has me wanting to check out more from this multi-award-winner.
February 19, 2021
4.5 rounded up because the average is far too low.
Campbell's take on fairy lore is dripping with atmosphere and gorgeous language. It's also genuinely terrifying at times. The plot is a bit static, but Campbell had me hanging on to every lush description and disturbing encounter with the kind folk. Good stuff.
Campbell's take on fairy lore is dripping with atmosphere and gorgeous language. It's also genuinely terrifying at times. The plot is a bit static, but Campbell had me hanging on to every lush description and disturbing encounter with the kind folk. Good stuff.
February 19, 2021
A fascinating, modern-day look at fairy lore. The writing is excellent; a Campbell hallmark. Pacing was a bit odd and story could've worked better as a novella- this is definitely a slow burn.
October 7, 2013
Back in the old days when there was still magic in the world, the fairy folk used to improve their diminishing bloodline by exchanging their offspring with human children. In The Kind Folk (2012), the fairies are corrupt shadows of their mythological selves, but the practice of changelings continues.
When a DNA test shows his biological parents aren't somehow his, Luke is understandably mystified. Luke's uncle, Terry, who was strangely attached to Luke, may know something, but dies before divulging any facts. However, in Terry's house Luke discovers a semi-incoherent diary tracking the uncle's travels throughout Britain, as well as a carving of a strange, barely human face.
Suddenly Luke, an up-and-coming comedian known for his skilful mimicry, starts to get gigs around Britain, in places that happen to correspond with the diary. And soon there are strange folk appearing at his shows, always standing in the back, twisting their hands in unnatural positions, as if signalling some secret sign. They seem to want something, and as it happens, Luke's girlfriend Sophie is pregnant.
The Kind Folk is Campbell at his very best; it's built on a solid mythological foundation that's familiar enough to feel real. The silent, elongated shadows are classic Campbell, creatures that always appear in the distance, half-glimpsed, so that they could be just ordinary youths loitering around – at least until they scurry away on all four limbs or some other craziness.
There's also the humour, as usual, striking a perfect balance with the horror; almost every sentence feels like a wound-up jack-in-the-box, ready to be sprung on the reader with a twist that might turn everything that came before it on its head. The relatively short length of the novel is just right; the narrative is rich, but nothing is overextended. Every chapter is in its right place.
And as Luke's journey progresses, the atmosphere goes up a notch or two. The dark city streets, the ruins of abandoned houses, the lonely places of the world where something old still lingers – the night is deep and dark and full of scares, but there's also a lot of beauty in these shadowy, almost wistful passages.
The novel ends with a perfect note of awe and wonder, as another generation steps forward. The fairies might've retreated back into the shadows, but with books like The Kind Folk, there's still plenty of magic left in the world.
***** (5/5)
Read all my reviews at mikareadshorrorfiction.wordpress.com
When a DNA test shows his biological parents aren't somehow his, Luke is understandably mystified. Luke's uncle, Terry, who was strangely attached to Luke, may know something, but dies before divulging any facts. However, in Terry's house Luke discovers a semi-incoherent diary tracking the uncle's travels throughout Britain, as well as a carving of a strange, barely human face.
Suddenly Luke, an up-and-coming comedian known for his skilful mimicry, starts to get gigs around Britain, in places that happen to correspond with the diary. And soon there are strange folk appearing at his shows, always standing in the back, twisting their hands in unnatural positions, as if signalling some secret sign. They seem to want something, and as it happens, Luke's girlfriend Sophie is pregnant.
The Kind Folk is Campbell at his very best; it's built on a solid mythological foundation that's familiar enough to feel real. The silent, elongated shadows are classic Campbell, creatures that always appear in the distance, half-glimpsed, so that they could be just ordinary youths loitering around – at least until they scurry away on all four limbs or some other craziness.
There's also the humour, as usual, striking a perfect balance with the horror; almost every sentence feels like a wound-up jack-in-the-box, ready to be sprung on the reader with a twist that might turn everything that came before it on its head. The relatively short length of the novel is just right; the narrative is rich, but nothing is overextended. Every chapter is in its right place.
And as Luke's journey progresses, the atmosphere goes up a notch or two. The dark city streets, the ruins of abandoned houses, the lonely places of the world where something old still lingers – the night is deep and dark and full of scares, but there's also a lot of beauty in these shadowy, almost wistful passages.
The novel ends with a perfect note of awe and wonder, as another generation steps forward. The fairies might've retreated back into the shadows, but with books like The Kind Folk, there's still plenty of magic left in the world.
***** (5/5)
Read all my reviews at mikareadshorrorfiction.wordpress.com
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 28, 2020
This is another book, that was a used library book, I found for sale at a cheap discount store, in which sometimes I find gold nuggets of literature, and other times okay adventures. This 14 day loaner once belonged to Palm Beach Co Library on 1951 Royal Fern Dr, Wellington, Fl, 33414, and made its way to me. Anywhose, about the actual book; Which I found to be okay, somewhere between the high praises and complaints already posted about this book.
WHAT I LIKED: I would call this more of a suspense than a horror. My imaginations played this story out to be almost like Spirited Away (film) but with more creep factor. It's the way the Folk don't seem to have real bodies, but are shadows that can lean from blob to freaky. I think there's a decent story line to support the story (something a lot of horror films lack). I did find it entertaining, but there was an extent to it.
THINGS I DIDN'T LIKE: Not sure about our main character being a comedian, he doesn't read like one, but I see how it fits the changeling narrative. It also didn't really climax or resolve well or in a too exciting way, but the very ending was at least a sweet feeling. I often have a hard time with British writers ( and yet I read so many books from them) in that their descriptions get a bit lost in translation and take away from the moment, because I'm trying to figure out what they mean. And my least favorite thing was using the word: n*ggardly. I mean technically the eptimology of the word does not derive from the N word (but from a norse word meaning poorly), but NOBODY reading that in todays world just knows that, and doesn't see the N word in it. The only other writers I've seen use that word were from the 1800s and early 1900s, in which they wrote racist things that were acceptable at the time. But like dude, why?
WHAT I LIKED: I would call this more of a suspense than a horror. My imaginations played this story out to be almost like Spirited Away (film) but with more creep factor. It's the way the Folk don't seem to have real bodies, but are shadows that can lean from blob to freaky. I think there's a decent story line to support the story (something a lot of horror films lack). I did find it entertaining, but there was an extent to it.
THINGS I DIDN'T LIKE: Not sure about our main character being a comedian, he doesn't read like one, but I see how it fits the changeling narrative. It also didn't really climax or resolve well or in a too exciting way, but the very ending was at least a sweet feeling. I often have a hard time with British writers ( and yet I read so many books from them) in that their descriptions get a bit lost in translation and take away from the moment, because I'm trying to figure out what they mean. And my least favorite thing was using the word: n*ggardly. I mean technically the eptimology of the word does not derive from the N word (but from a norse word meaning poorly), but NOBODY reading that in todays world just knows that, and doesn't see the N word in it. The only other writers I've seen use that word were from the 1800s and early 1900s, in which they wrote racist things that were acceptable at the time. But like dude, why?
September 21, 2016
I really enjoyed reading this little Gothic tale. It's short enough so that I easily finished it. It's eerie and spooky without actually becoming frightening. If I were filming this as a movie, there would be a lot of softly-out-of-focus scenes, dark and creeping shadows in corners, happy and sunny afternoons that still feel a little overcast and ominous somehow. I really dig this kind of vaguely sinister, did-something-just-move-over-there-when-I-wasn't-looking kind of story.
I liked the plot: a grown man is dealing with unresolved family feelings. His uncle passes and he learns he was somehow switched at birth so his family is not "actually" his family. All of this happens when his wife is expecting their first born. And to make matters worse, he vaguely remembers childhood anxiety that seems to be making a recurrence. Tie all of this up with a growing suspicion that the faerie tales told to him by his uncle are actually true, that people can be singled out to be haunted by mischievous wee-folk, and that he may actually be a changeling, and you've got a story just interesting enough to keep you up reading it, but not scary enough to keep you from sleep.
I liked the plot: a grown man is dealing with unresolved family feelings. His uncle passes and he learns he was somehow switched at birth so his family is not "actually" his family. All of this happens when his wife is expecting their first born. And to make matters worse, he vaguely remembers childhood anxiety that seems to be making a recurrence. Tie all of this up with a growing suspicion that the faerie tales told to him by his uncle are actually true, that people can be singled out to be haunted by mischievous wee-folk, and that he may actually be a changeling, and you've got a story just interesting enough to keep you up reading it, but not scary enough to keep you from sleep.
February 19, 2017
Interesting and enjoyable!
December 16, 2016
Took me awhile to finish this short 200 page book. It was supposed to be creepy and while changelings and fairies can be sinister, this novel did not make me need to watch out for them. Not a page turner for me.
October 4, 2018
Atmospheric English faery tale!!
March 22, 2022
3.5 stars.
August 14, 2017
Halfway through I decided to return it.
September 16, 2022
Intro
This book caught my eye one day while I was at work and saw it on the table ~ waiting to be shelved. I had never heard of The Kind Folk but was instantly intrigued. I read the synopsis and I decided it had to come home with me.
I started this book in July and I expected to read it in two days. It is just over 200 pages and I thought the content was right up my alley. I love books about the Fae and dark folklore! So, it was a bit upsetting to find I was struggling to finish this book. I was only able to get through a few pages a day.
I had a hard time deciding what to rate it and ended up rating it at the halfway point. I enjoyed reading it enough (and learned enough) that it was definitely above two stars, but couldn’t confidently give it four stars.
Writing/Author
I have never read Ramsey Campbell’s work before, even though he has written for over 50 years and has published plenty of highly rated books. Due to the fact that Campbell is a British writer his writing style portrays English mannerisms and revolves around English culture. Since I am American, this set The Kind Folk into a style I am not familiar with.
I appreciated reading the book for what it was, but it’s been a while since I read a book written by a British author. I am a bit embarrassed that I didn’t even realize he was a British author until I started finding vocabulary such as ‘tyre’ on page 33. This is one reason it took me so long to get through the book. I would take notes about the vocabulary that was foreign to me and then look it up later.
Along with the vocabulary, I found the writing to be complex and with quite a bit of description. An example of this description is on page 31 when Luke steps into Terance’s house.
“It feels steeped in dusk, no longer lit by Terance’s stories or his enthusiasm for them. An inch of stagnant beer is turning murky in a bottle next to an armchair that slumps in front of the television.”
I loved this description of Terance’s home because it painted a picture of what Luke saw but also showed how he compared it to when he would visit in the past. There are many points in the book, such as Luke in the park or the meadow, that share this writing style. These lovely paragraphs of description are what I mainly enjoyed as I read this book.
Unfortunately, my main criticism is that I found it difficult to stay immersed in the story. This is for two reasons:
First, when there was dialogue, I would get lost quite often. From the very first page, the dialogue was not accompanied by speech tags, which was extremely frustrating. Especially because five characters were introduced on the first page which made it difficult to keep up with who was talking when. Especially because Campbell would also use nicknames, such as Terry for Terance or Freddy for Freda...
The second reason is how slowly the story progressed.
Story
When I mentioned to my boss that I was reading a Ramsey Campbell novel, she immediately asked me if I was into horror. I mean…I am, but I wasn’t sure what she meant because this was the first book I ever read of his, and while it does give a bit of a ‘creep-factor,’ it doesn’t scream horror to me. I think this is where I might have to read some of his other stories.
The concept for the story is a fantastic one. Luke Arnold learns he is not his parents’ biological son right as his life is moving into the next step. He is with the love of his life, Sophie Drew, and they are expecting a child. However, after his Uncle Terance’s death, he begins to discover not only things about Terence’s history, but his own. The dark fae, folktales, and interesting hand signs make Luke question everything in his life.
Fun Fact I learned: Ramsey Campbell planned to write a novel titled The Black Pilgrimage but got so far off track with the story, that he renamed it The Kind Folk.
Since this novel was originally meant to be another story, I can see why the story is a prolonged journey with a bit of an unsatisfying ending. Campbell might have had another ending in mind for the original novel, but he probably had to change it once the story got so far off track.
A lot of this book revolves around Luke going out on his own, talking to people (or trying to talk to people) who knew his uncle, and not getting any closer to an answer. After a while, there are mentions of the ‘Kind Folk,’ but it is once Luke starts to do some research of his own that it does move just a bit more.
There is more mention of the ‘Kind Folk’ and also more weird instances with shadow figures. However, I still think there could have been more mention and description of the fae and what their intentions were throughout the book. I know it took a while for me to get through it, but there was almost a need for more information and a more intense climatic scene.
Characters
Luke Arnold irritated me at the beginning. If I discovered that my parents were not my biological parents, I would still treat them as my parents because they were the ones that raised me and took care of me. What does Luke do? He immediately begins to call them Freda and Maurice, changes their names on his phone, and cuts them off for a while. It seems a bit unreal to me.
However, he did redeem himself a bit when I realized how he treated Sophie. He tried to help her when he could, and made sure to only drink water at his shows, so he could drive home to be with her.
Luke’s parents seem to have little to no emotion. Both of them accept that Luke does not see them as parents. I would be heartbroken if the boy I raised as my own suddenly started calling me by my first name and acting distant. They continue to invite him over and call him, but overall, are background characters in Luke’s story.
Sophie was my favorite character as I went through the story. She is pregnant, strong, capable, and a singer. Even with all of this going on, she seemed genuinely concerned about Luke and he was going through. She even brings up a song about the Kind Folk and reads The End of Magic by Alvin Page to see if she can help. Out of all of them, she is the most realistic and caring person in the story.
Ramsey Campbell puts the names of two painters (Richard Dadd and Arthur Rackman) in the book which sparked my interest. I went back after finishing the book to discover that the two painters actually existed and they actually did paint faeries. This was fascinating to me!
Favorite Quotes
Page 90 “The gentleman that wasn’t really there, he went into the wall” ~ Sophie (Creepy)
Page 55 “He used to say that was how you helped people read, keeping the libraries open.” ~ Luke
Page 49 “sarcophagus of celluloid and cardboard.” Not really a quote, but how Ramsey Campbell explains toothbrush packaging is hilarious.
Overall
I don’t regret reading this book and have learned a lot from reading it. However, I do think that it was missing a little bit of everything. It needed more emotion, it needed more horror, and it needed a fast-paced ending with a nice closure.
This will not deter me from reading any of his other novels. I always want to read more than one book from an author, because you never know what kind of gems they are hiding.
I recommend this to anyone who enjoys slow-burn horror novels. I think it is worth reading at least once, but don’t let the size trick you. It might take a while to get through.
This book caught my eye one day while I was at work and saw it on the table ~ waiting to be shelved. I had never heard of The Kind Folk but was instantly intrigued. I read the synopsis and I decided it had to come home with me.
I started this book in July and I expected to read it in two days. It is just over 200 pages and I thought the content was right up my alley. I love books about the Fae and dark folklore! So, it was a bit upsetting to find I was struggling to finish this book. I was only able to get through a few pages a day.
I had a hard time deciding what to rate it and ended up rating it at the halfway point. I enjoyed reading it enough (and learned enough) that it was definitely above two stars, but couldn’t confidently give it four stars.
Writing/Author
I have never read Ramsey Campbell’s work before, even though he has written for over 50 years and has published plenty of highly rated books. Due to the fact that Campbell is a British writer his writing style portrays English mannerisms and revolves around English culture. Since I am American, this set The Kind Folk into a style I am not familiar with.
I appreciated reading the book for what it was, but it’s been a while since I read a book written by a British author. I am a bit embarrassed that I didn’t even realize he was a British author until I started finding vocabulary such as ‘tyre’ on page 33. This is one reason it took me so long to get through the book. I would take notes about the vocabulary that was foreign to me and then look it up later.
Along with the vocabulary, I found the writing to be complex and with quite a bit of description. An example of this description is on page 31 when Luke steps into Terance’s house.
“It feels steeped in dusk, no longer lit by Terance’s stories or his enthusiasm for them. An inch of stagnant beer is turning murky in a bottle next to an armchair that slumps in front of the television.”
I loved this description of Terance’s home because it painted a picture of what Luke saw but also showed how he compared it to when he would visit in the past. There are many points in the book, such as Luke in the park or the meadow, that share this writing style. These lovely paragraphs of description are what I mainly enjoyed as I read this book.
Unfortunately, my main criticism is that I found it difficult to stay immersed in the story. This is for two reasons:
First, when there was dialogue, I would get lost quite often. From the very first page, the dialogue was not accompanied by speech tags, which was extremely frustrating. Especially because five characters were introduced on the first page which made it difficult to keep up with who was talking when. Especially because Campbell would also use nicknames, such as Terry for Terance or Freddy for Freda...
The second reason is how slowly the story progressed.
Story
When I mentioned to my boss that I was reading a Ramsey Campbell novel, she immediately asked me if I was into horror. I mean…I am, but I wasn’t sure what she meant because this was the first book I ever read of his, and while it does give a bit of a ‘creep-factor,’ it doesn’t scream horror to me. I think this is where I might have to read some of his other stories.
The concept for the story is a fantastic one. Luke Arnold learns he is not his parents’ biological son right as his life is moving into the next step. He is with the love of his life, Sophie Drew, and they are expecting a child. However, after his Uncle Terance’s death, he begins to discover not only things about Terence’s history, but his own. The dark fae, folktales, and interesting hand signs make Luke question everything in his life.
Fun Fact I learned: Ramsey Campbell planned to write a novel titled The Black Pilgrimage but got so far off track with the story, that he renamed it The Kind Folk.
Since this novel was originally meant to be another story, I can see why the story is a prolonged journey with a bit of an unsatisfying ending. Campbell might have had another ending in mind for the original novel, but he probably had to change it once the story got so far off track.
A lot of this book revolves around Luke going out on his own, talking to people (or trying to talk to people) who knew his uncle, and not getting any closer to an answer. After a while, there are mentions of the ‘Kind Folk,’ but it is once Luke starts to do some research of his own that it does move just a bit more.
There is more mention of the ‘Kind Folk’ and also more weird instances with shadow figures. However, I still think there could have been more mention and description of the fae and what their intentions were throughout the book. I know it took a while for me to get through it, but there was almost a need for more information and a more intense climatic scene.
Characters
Luke Arnold irritated me at the beginning. If I discovered that my parents were not my biological parents, I would still treat them as my parents because they were the ones that raised me and took care of me. What does Luke do? He immediately begins to call them Freda and Maurice, changes their names on his phone, and cuts them off for a while. It seems a bit unreal to me.
However, he did redeem himself a bit when I realized how he treated Sophie. He tried to help her when he could, and made sure to only drink water at his shows, so he could drive home to be with her.
Luke’s parents seem to have little to no emotion. Both of them accept that Luke does not see them as parents. I would be heartbroken if the boy I raised as my own suddenly started calling me by my first name and acting distant. They continue to invite him over and call him, but overall, are background characters in Luke’s story.
Sophie was my favorite character as I went through the story. She is pregnant, strong, capable, and a singer. Even with all of this going on, she seemed genuinely concerned about Luke and he was going through. She even brings up a song about the Kind Folk and reads The End of Magic by Alvin Page to see if she can help. Out of all of them, she is the most realistic and caring person in the story.
Ramsey Campbell puts the names of two painters (Richard Dadd and Arthur Rackman) in the book which sparked my interest. I went back after finishing the book to discover that the two painters actually existed and they actually did paint faeries. This was fascinating to me!
Favorite Quotes
Page 90 “The gentleman that wasn’t really there, he went into the wall” ~ Sophie (Creepy)
Page 55 “He used to say that was how you helped people read, keeping the libraries open.” ~ Luke
Page 49 “sarcophagus of celluloid and cardboard.” Not really a quote, but how Ramsey Campbell explains toothbrush packaging is hilarious.
Overall
I don’t regret reading this book and have learned a lot from reading it. However, I do think that it was missing a little bit of everything. It needed more emotion, it needed more horror, and it needed a fast-paced ending with a nice closure.
This will not deter me from reading any of his other novels. I always want to read more than one book from an author, because you never know what kind of gems they are hiding.
I recommend this to anyone who enjoys slow-burn horror novels. I think it is worth reading at least once, but don’t let the size trick you. It might take a while to get through.
February 9, 2019
This was maybe the worst book I've ever read. I made it all the way through but for a 200 page book it was VERY dry and slow. The beginning really gets you going and then nothing happens again until like 40 pages from the end. My final thoughts were "Huh?"
Waste of time.
Waste of time.
November 24, 2016
A story written so vague that the object of being a creepy story of replacing humans with fairies was lost.
December 13, 2016
Pssche.
June 12, 2017
The Kind Folk is a novel of supernatural horror written by genre grandmaster Ramsey Campbell. It was published by both PS Publishing (2012) and TOR Books (2016). I've long been a huge fan of Ramsey's work. Incarnate, The Grin of the Dark, Ancient Images, Midnight Sun, Hungry Moon and many other novels of his I consider to be true masterpieces. The Kind Folk is a worthy addition to that list.
The story opens on the set of a British talk show where host Jack Brittan is revealing the results of a paternity test to the Arnold family regarding their adult Uncle Terence possiby being Luke's real father. Shockingly, the test not only reveals that isn't the case, but that Luke is not actually related to any of them. The conclusion to this is some mishap must have taken place at the hospital resulting in his having been switched at birth with someone -- or something, else. While his family tells him it doesn't matter, Luke feels driven to seek answers. The fact that his partner Sophie is pregnant with his son makes the need to learn his true heritage even more important.
Luke has an extraordinary ability to mimic other people, a talent he's capitalized on to become a rising star on the standup comedy circuit. The expense of his child's impending arrival means he can't afford to miss any bookings which often sets him on the road to various remote night clubs. It's during one of these performances that he receives a call from his Uncle Terrance urgently requesting to meet with him. Luke has always been particularly close to his uncle who used to regale him with countless tales about the fairies, nature spirits and old magics hidden in common paces all around them.
Unfortunately, Terrance dies suddenly before he can tell Luke what he wanted to say. Following the funeral while Luke and Sophie are going through his uncle's belongings, they come across some strange artifacts and a journal filled with brief, cryptic messages that seems to imply his uncle suspected Luke's origins wheren't natural.
Using the journal as a guide, Luke begins to investigate the names and locations referenced. This leads him along a path that involves secret fae hand gestures hidden in famous paintings and of special places where unwary travelers can find themselves trapped by forgotten enchantments. Once he begins seeing a host of misshapen beings at his performances that aren't visible to anyone else, he comes to believe his uncle's stories might have been real. These weird creatures seem to be hard at work trying to gain his attention and to direct him to specific locations for reasons he doesn't understand. What is it these eldrich beings want from him? Is he one of them? Is that what grants him his mastery of impersonation, and if he is like them, what does that make his son?
I really loved this book and was riveted to see how the mysteries unfolded along the way. As usual with one of Ramsey's novels, the horror begins subtly, allowing for commonplace explainations, but as the story progresses the strangeness and dread mount into full blossom by its conclusion. The fairies Luke encounters in this book aren't of the miniature ballerinas fluttering about on gossamer wings variety either. They take more hideous, gobliniod forms as they act out in strange yet purposeful ways that let Luke know they have a plan in mind for him. For me, this was yet another brilliant and thoroughly satisfying read by Ramsey Campbell.
The story opens on the set of a British talk show where host Jack Brittan is revealing the results of a paternity test to the Arnold family regarding their adult Uncle Terence possiby being Luke's real father. Shockingly, the test not only reveals that isn't the case, but that Luke is not actually related to any of them. The conclusion to this is some mishap must have taken place at the hospital resulting in his having been switched at birth with someone -- or something, else. While his family tells him it doesn't matter, Luke feels driven to seek answers. The fact that his partner Sophie is pregnant with his son makes the need to learn his true heritage even more important.
Luke has an extraordinary ability to mimic other people, a talent he's capitalized on to become a rising star on the standup comedy circuit. The expense of his child's impending arrival means he can't afford to miss any bookings which often sets him on the road to various remote night clubs. It's during one of these performances that he receives a call from his Uncle Terrance urgently requesting to meet with him. Luke has always been particularly close to his uncle who used to regale him with countless tales about the fairies, nature spirits and old magics hidden in common paces all around them.
Unfortunately, Terrance dies suddenly before he can tell Luke what he wanted to say. Following the funeral while Luke and Sophie are going through his uncle's belongings, they come across some strange artifacts and a journal filled with brief, cryptic messages that seems to imply his uncle suspected Luke's origins wheren't natural.
Using the journal as a guide, Luke begins to investigate the names and locations referenced. This leads him along a path that involves secret fae hand gestures hidden in famous paintings and of special places where unwary travelers can find themselves trapped by forgotten enchantments. Once he begins seeing a host of misshapen beings at his performances that aren't visible to anyone else, he comes to believe his uncle's stories might have been real. These weird creatures seem to be hard at work trying to gain his attention and to direct him to specific locations for reasons he doesn't understand. What is it these eldrich beings want from him? Is he one of them? Is that what grants him his mastery of impersonation, and if he is like them, what does that make his son?
I really loved this book and was riveted to see how the mysteries unfolded along the way. As usual with one of Ramsey's novels, the horror begins subtly, allowing for commonplace explainations, but as the story progresses the strangeness and dread mount into full blossom by its conclusion. The fairies Luke encounters in this book aren't of the miniature ballerinas fluttering about on gossamer wings variety either. They take more hideous, gobliniod forms as they act out in strange yet purposeful ways that let Luke know they have a plan in mind for him. For me, this was yet another brilliant and thoroughly satisfying read by Ramsey Campbell.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 17, 2022
Don’t go expecting too much from his diary, that’s all. A lot of it doesn’t seem to mean much of anything. He keeps saying how kind the folk he met were.”
Sophie smiles as the moon begins to pace the car alongside the river. “So long as he wasn’t away with the fairies.”
“Fanciful, you mean?” When she shakes her head Luke admits, “I don’t understand.”
“That was what people used to call the fairies to try and stop them getting up to anything too wicked, the Kind Folk. There are songs about them.”
“He just meant people were helpful,” Luke says and attempts to believe. The moon clings to the edge of his vision as he stares along the dark deserted road, but he’s seeing the phrase he has encountered far too often in Terence’s journal. KIND FOLK HERE. KIND FOLK HERE.
Ramsey Campbell’s The Kind Folk was a disappointment. While, at times, he manages to evocate an unsettling atmosphere of unease full of suspicious scurrying and darting shadows, the overall plot is clunky. The opening exposition dump is ludicrous, since Campbell has the main character discover his past is a mystery while participating on a Jerry Springer-esque talk show. The story plods along from there. For a 200-page novel, this was a difficult one to finish. I felt I already figured everything out during the first third and the characters in the book plod on and remain clueless, even apathetic.
The action of the novel is repetitive and, even for such a short novel, becomes tedious through overuse. The protagonist reads a journal, drives somewhere described in the journal, the protagonist is unsettled by the area, the protagonist drives home. The next chapter repeats the same. The conclusion reveals nothing shocking or interesting—it’s exactly what you think is going to happen and it’s a disappointment when you turn to the final page and find you were right all along.
This novel has potential. Campbell can frighten; there are remarkable passages which had me looking over my shoulder as I read. The issue is Campbell squanders the atmosphere with poor plotting and structure. Here we are, Mr. Campbell—frighten us, but please don’t insult us.
It’s unclear whether this is a quotation, although much of the book is composed of them. Alvin Page sets about worrying the sentence, examining the language and counselling the reader to ponder how much of a difference a comma makes. Did the belief prove that fairies existed, or did they exist because they were believed in, or both? Page doesn’t quite reach a conclusion.
Sophie smiles as the moon begins to pace the car alongside the river. “So long as he wasn’t away with the fairies.”
“Fanciful, you mean?” When she shakes her head Luke admits, “I don’t understand.”
“That was what people used to call the fairies to try and stop them getting up to anything too wicked, the Kind Folk. There are songs about them.”
“He just meant people were helpful,” Luke says and attempts to believe. The moon clings to the edge of his vision as he stares along the dark deserted road, but he’s seeing the phrase he has encountered far too often in Terence’s journal. KIND FOLK HERE. KIND FOLK HERE.
Ramsey Campbell’s The Kind Folk was a disappointment. While, at times, he manages to evocate an unsettling atmosphere of unease full of suspicious scurrying and darting shadows, the overall plot is clunky. The opening exposition dump is ludicrous, since Campbell has the main character discover his past is a mystery while participating on a Jerry Springer-esque talk show. The story plods along from there. For a 200-page novel, this was a difficult one to finish. I felt I already figured everything out during the first third and the characters in the book plod on and remain clueless, even apathetic.
The action of the novel is repetitive and, even for such a short novel, becomes tedious through overuse. The protagonist reads a journal, drives somewhere described in the journal, the protagonist is unsettled by the area, the protagonist drives home. The next chapter repeats the same. The conclusion reveals nothing shocking or interesting—it’s exactly what you think is going to happen and it’s a disappointment when you turn to the final page and find you were right all along.
This novel has potential. Campbell can frighten; there are remarkable passages which had me looking over my shoulder as I read. The issue is Campbell squanders the atmosphere with poor plotting and structure. Here we are, Mr. Campbell—frighten us, but please don’t insult us.
It’s unclear whether this is a quotation, although much of the book is composed of them. Alvin Page sets about worrying the sentence, examining the language and counselling the reader to ponder how much of a difference a comma makes. Did the belief prove that fairies existed, or did they exist because they were believed in, or both? Page doesn’t quite reach a conclusion.
July 14, 2017
I hate giving only two stars, because I was very excited about this book based on the premise. I guess that just made the disappointment all the worse.
Its biggest sin: nothing happens. For pages and pages the protagonist worries to the point of madness what will happen to him and what might possibly happen to his unborn child. He wanders around trying to talk to people who conveniently disappear or die before they can tell him anything about his past, or simply refuse to talk to him. The "clues" left behind by his uncle are incoherent. The final confrontation with the forces Luke is so afraid of is too tame and too easy, considering what he's dealing with. Everything wraps up quietly and neatly without anyone even breaking a sweat. It's one of the dampest squibs of an ending I've ever seen.
There are other issues, too. As much as Luke worries about how human he might or might not be, and how much of his personality is his versus how much is just mimicking the people around him, absolutely none of the characters in this book speak or react the way an actual human would. They are complete cardboard cutouts, there I guess just so Luke has other people in his life to worry about?
There could have been a lot of interesting things about Luke's family and his identity and his past, but the book engages with them only half-heartedly in favor of more scenes of Luke driving around the countryside looking for more people who won't talk to him, getting lost in fields, and staging increasingly manic comic routines.
There were some promisingly creepy scenes with Luke being tricked into getting lost within fairy land (or whatever you want to call it), but again, he easily escaped each time, with no lasting effects. Every obstacle was just so easy for him to overcome I never felt any sense of tension or danger. Which made his constant panic over his and his family's safety seem kind of ridiculous.
Its biggest sin: nothing happens. For pages and pages the protagonist worries to the point of madness what will happen to him and what might possibly happen to his unborn child. He wanders around trying to talk to people who conveniently disappear or die before they can tell him anything about his past, or simply refuse to talk to him. The "clues" left behind by his uncle are incoherent. The final confrontation with the forces Luke is so afraid of is too tame and too easy, considering what he's dealing with. Everything wraps up quietly and neatly without anyone even breaking a sweat. It's one of the dampest squibs of an ending I've ever seen.
There are other issues, too. As much as Luke worries about how human he might or might not be, and how much of his personality is his versus how much is just mimicking the people around him, absolutely none of the characters in this book speak or react the way an actual human would. They are complete cardboard cutouts, there I guess just so Luke has other people in his life to worry about?
There could have been a lot of interesting things about Luke's family and his identity and his past, but the book engages with them only half-heartedly in favor of more scenes of Luke driving around the countryside looking for more people who won't talk to him, getting lost in fields, and staging increasingly manic comic routines.
There were some promisingly creepy scenes with Luke being tricked into getting lost within fairy land (or whatever you want to call it), but again, he easily escaped each time, with no lasting effects. Every obstacle was just so easy for him to overcome I never felt any sense of tension or danger. Which made his constant panic over his and his family's safety seem kind of ridiculous.
March 18, 2022
I'm a huge sucker for dark fairy tales and changeling myths, sometimes even moreso when they are set in a recognizably modern setting. It brings this ancient form of storytelling right into a space where modern audiences can feel the same thrill and danger the original audiences must have felt. If the Kind Folk are lurking in every shadow, waiting to drag you (or you child) away into parts unknown, it certainly can make living your everyday life a scary thing.
I think every star I was able to give this book was on that basis alone. I connected to the themes and imagery and spookiness more than anything else.
I didn't have too much issue with the writing, other than the tendency not to use speaker tags when multiple people were speaking, which made some conversations extremely difficult to follow. And occasionally, some of the tense scenes fell a little flat. Stylistically, though, it was otherwise crisp and clean and well-done in every technical sense.
The story, however, tended to get a little bogged down in this cycle of "slow scene with boring underdeveloped main character, now tense scene where there are fairies stalking the boring underdeveloped main character" on repeat until the book ended. I think that's why the tense scenes started to fall flat after a while. They just got to be too repetitive, not helped along at all by Luke, our main character. He had absolutely no personality of his own... WHICH IS ODD considering his day job as a standup comedian and his concerns about his misty heritage. I had a really hard time combining his goofball comedy acts with the bland, dry character he was the rest of the time. Even though this book was only 220-ish pages, I got super bored of him by book's end.
But gosh darn it, I totally vibed with the whole mood, so once again, I'm stuck not knowing how I feel about the book. It's a pretty firm 3/5 for me.
I think every star I was able to give this book was on that basis alone. I connected to the themes and imagery and spookiness more than anything else.
I didn't have too much issue with the writing, other than the tendency not to use speaker tags when multiple people were speaking, which made some conversations extremely difficult to follow. And occasionally, some of the tense scenes fell a little flat. Stylistically, though, it was otherwise crisp and clean and well-done in every technical sense.
The story, however, tended to get a little bogged down in this cycle of "slow scene with boring underdeveloped main character, now tense scene where there are fairies stalking the boring underdeveloped main character" on repeat until the book ended. I think that's why the tense scenes started to fall flat after a while. They just got to be too repetitive, not helped along at all by Luke, our main character. He had absolutely no personality of his own... WHICH IS ODD considering his day job as a standup comedian and his concerns about his misty heritage. I had a really hard time combining his goofball comedy acts with the bland, dry character he was the rest of the time. Even though this book was only 220-ish pages, I got super bored of him by book's end.
But gosh darn it, I totally vibed with the whole mood, so once again, I'm stuck not knowing how I feel about the book. It's a pretty firm 3/5 for me.
March 6, 2017
The writing was impressively descriptive. The story was creative and there were some truly creepy moments. I was sincerely hoping that the conclusion would live up to the promise suggested by the set up, but it just didn't. Unfortunately, it was pretty anticlimactic.
I liked the story. I loved the magic. I felt like he dropped the ball in the end. From the acknowledgements, I got the idea that the book had gone through a couple of different drafts. I wish I knew what some of the other things the author considered before deciding on this ending.
Also, as a warning, I need to say that I do not consider this book in the "horror" genre. I don't think I've read anything else by this author, and he is portrayed as a horror author by the reviews on the back jacket, but this novel is not horror. I'd call it fantasy, even dark fantasy, but it did not deliver and a horror fan who picked this up would be disappointed. I'm not talking about blood and gore. There is plenty of really good horror without the "slash 'em up." I love classic horror like H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. This book did not deliver on the menace and power it initially promised. An author doesn't have to give us all the details, but I was not left fear of the future, either. Argh! So much lost potential!
Just as some other thoughts, and maybe I'm getting hung up on the wrong things, but I felt confused by some of the time line. They kept saying that one of the characters got some of his wacky ideas from drugs and the 1960s, but then he didn't seem old enough to have been a hippie in the 60s. If he had been a hippie in the 60s, I wish the author would have made it more clear that he was that much older, it would have made some of the other incidents more plausible. Plus, there were some things that were described as 40 years ago (in the 60s) and other events described as a quarter century ago, which was in the main character's lifetime, but clearly couldn't be explained away with, "Well, it was that stuff that happened in the 60s." So which was it? If there was weird, new age activities happening more recently than the 60s, why did the characters keep trying to explain it away with, "That was stuff that happened in the 60s." It made the characters weaker and less rational than they could of been. Hey, I had an aunt that was into crystals and mythology in the 80s and 90s. Every year people perform pagan rituals at Stonehnge. I just think there's a whole range of responses that the characters could have expressed.
There also seemed to be a plethora of situations of people acting strangely where everyone instantly jumps to the conclusion of drugs or drug dealers, even in what I would call middle class settings. Is this a common situation in modern UK society? Did I misunderstand the description of the setting? I visit Baltimore all the time and manage to avoid seeing any drug induced behavior or transactions. Also, many people in America claim that weed is harmless and has no long lasting effects. Were characters in this book assuming people were having drug behavior from meth? Heroine? LSD? Crack? Whoa! I just think that if someone suspected their neighbor of being a heroine addict, they wouldn't take such a "mind my own business" attitude. I'd be really worried about them bringing other aspects of violent crime into my neighborhood. I wondered if there were some cultural assumptions that I was missing because it's in the UK.
I liked the story. I loved the magic. I felt like he dropped the ball in the end. From the acknowledgements, I got the idea that the book had gone through a couple of different drafts. I wish I knew what some of the other things the author considered before deciding on this ending.
Also, as a warning, I need to say that I do not consider this book in the "horror" genre. I don't think I've read anything else by this author, and he is portrayed as a horror author by the reviews on the back jacket, but this novel is not horror. I'd call it fantasy, even dark fantasy, but it did not deliver and a horror fan who picked this up would be disappointed. I'm not talking about blood and gore. There is plenty of really good horror without the "slash 'em up." I love classic horror like H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. This book did not deliver on the menace and power it initially promised. An author doesn't have to give us all the details, but I was not left fear of the future, either. Argh! So much lost potential!
Just as some other thoughts, and maybe I'm getting hung up on the wrong things, but I felt confused by some of the time line. They kept saying that one of the characters got some of his wacky ideas from drugs and the 1960s, but then he didn't seem old enough to have been a hippie in the 60s. If he had been a hippie in the 60s, I wish the author would have made it more clear that he was that much older, it would have made some of the other incidents more plausible. Plus, there were some things that were described as 40 years ago (in the 60s) and other events described as a quarter century ago, which was in the main character's lifetime, but clearly couldn't be explained away with, "Well, it was that stuff that happened in the 60s." So which was it? If there was weird, new age activities happening more recently than the 60s, why did the characters keep trying to explain it away with, "That was stuff that happened in the 60s." It made the characters weaker and less rational than they could of been. Hey, I had an aunt that was into crystals and mythology in the 80s and 90s. Every year people perform pagan rituals at Stonehnge. I just think there's a whole range of responses that the characters could have expressed.
There also seemed to be a plethora of situations of people acting strangely where everyone instantly jumps to the conclusion of drugs or drug dealers, even in what I would call middle class settings. Is this a common situation in modern UK society? Did I misunderstand the description of the setting? I visit Baltimore all the time and manage to avoid seeing any drug induced behavior or transactions. Also, many people in America claim that weed is harmless and has no long lasting effects. Were characters in this book assuming people were having drug behavior from meth? Heroine? LSD? Crack? Whoa! I just think that if someone suspected their neighbor of being a heroine addict, they wouldn't take such a "mind my own business" attitude. I'd be really worried about them bringing other aspects of violent crime into my neighborhood. I wondered if there were some cultural assumptions that I was missing because it's in the UK.
November 16, 2018
Who are The Kind Folk?
Does Luke belong to the family who helped him grow up?
Will Luke find his real family?
Will Luke be able to save his son from The Kind Folk?
Where are all of the places that his uncle took him and now he must seek out to find the answers to his questions?
When Luke is on a talk show with his "FAMILY" he finds out that he may not be who he was raised to believe who he is.
Luke is stuck on a major bridge because of a traffic jam and must follow his instincts and gets to a spot to park his car to walk up to the spot of trouble.
When he arrives to the spot that is causing the trouble he finds his "uncle" in the drivers seat having a heart attack and I personally believe that Luke's uncle is having a stroke at the same time.
Luke sees/finds papers on the seat of the car/van/utility vehicle that he is driving his uncle home at his directions, and now the question arrives of what is at his uncles home?
This is a must read and I highly recommend this author, however, he will have to wait for me to finish with the current author I am reading.
Does Luke belong to the family who helped him grow up?
Will Luke find his real family?
Will Luke be able to save his son from The Kind Folk?
Where are all of the places that his uncle took him and now he must seek out to find the answers to his questions?
When Luke is on a talk show with his "FAMILY" he finds out that he may not be who he was raised to believe who he is.
Luke is stuck on a major bridge because of a traffic jam and must follow his instincts and gets to a spot to park his car to walk up to the spot of trouble.
When he arrives to the spot that is causing the trouble he finds his "uncle" in the drivers seat having a heart attack and I personally believe that Luke's uncle is having a stroke at the same time.
Luke sees/finds papers on the seat of the car/van/utility vehicle that he is driving his uncle home at his directions, and now the question arrives of what is at his uncles home?
This is a must read and I highly recommend this author, however, he will have to wait for me to finish with the current author I am reading.
December 18, 2018
Over the years, I had heard the name "Ramsey Campbell" as one of the greats in the horror genre. For one reason or another, I never managed to read any of his books. This is now the second of his books I've read, and I really feel as if I'm missing something.
The Kind Folk just never grabbed my attention. For a short book, it took me much longer to read than I'd have liked. There never seemed to be a defining or memorable moment that left me yearning to read the next page. Even as the book reached the end, it didn't feel like there was any sort of climax, just an ending.
There were times that I felt like it could have gone in a direction that I was yearning to see, but it never did.
The Kind Folk just never grabbed my attention. For a short book, it took me much longer to read than I'd have liked. There never seemed to be a defining or memorable moment that left me yearning to read the next page. Even as the book reached the end, it didn't feel like there was any sort of climax, just an ending.
There were times that I felt like it could have gone in a direction that I was yearning to see, but it never did.
February 22, 2021
I read this book because it was selected by the HOWL Society book club. This was my first Ramsey Campbell, but I don’t think it will be my last. Campbell’s blend of folk and cosmic horror examines family, identity, and mythology through a chilling narrative inspired by the English and European tradition of changelings, children replaced by fairies. While Campbell’s prose was, at times, a bit dense, it could also be evocative and brilliant. Campbell’s writing reminded me at times of Neil Gaiman (whose blurb appears on the back cover). If The Ocean at the End of the Lane were told from the prospective of a paranoid adult instead of a child, perhaps it might be somewhat similar to The Kind Folk. Overall, an excellent book - 4.5 stars - and I’ll be eager to read another Ramsey Campbell soon!
May 29, 2021
The flap summary sounded very interesting, but I had to power and force myself to finish this short book. Usually I can knock out 200 pages of a book nbd if it's super interesting. This one I forced myself to finish to the end since it was so short.
I don't know if it is how the British writing style is, but I would get very confused on who was talking to who. Also, it seemed that it jumped around places a lot without really every explaining anything. I wasn't creeped out nor in suspense to the end.
The only part I enjoyed was really the last 50 pages where I thought it picked up and that was it. I was disappointed because I was looking forward to this book.
I don't know if it is how the British writing style is, but I would get very confused on who was talking to who. Also, it seemed that it jumped around places a lot without really every explaining anything. I wasn't creeped out nor in suspense to the end.
The only part I enjoyed was really the last 50 pages where I thought it picked up and that was it. I was disappointed because I was looking forward to this book.
December 15, 2018
In Celtic times, the "Kind Folk" was a name given to fairies, mythical creatures who were a race given to pranks, but mostly friendly toward humans. In the hands of Ramsey Campbell, however, there is a much darker history, one in which Tinkerbell doesn't belong. This was my second novel by Campbell, but The Kind Folk is the book that made me a proud fan. His ability to create a sense of foreboding, while havinga cast of characters you could empathise with, makes him one of the preeminent writers today.
.
My Rating: 4.5/5 stars
.
My Rating: 4.5/5 stars
Displaying 1 - 30 of 65 reviews