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Almost Insentient, Almost Divine
Welcome to the Grand Guignol.
A prayer to Gods as yet unknown.
The stunning new collection of weird fiction from visionary writer D.P. Watt. The foolish wisdom of forlorn puppets. A diabolical chorus in many voices. Shadowy shapes emerging from the strange blueness. Dreamers of other truths. The delicate craft of filial love. You - and some other you. Creatures in the hedgerows. Cold rime creeping across darkened windows. The numinous night pool. A hive of pain. These and other nightmares await.
"DP Watt has real talent. It touches on and reflects the world we know, but as in a glass darkly." - Reggie Oliver
A prayer to Gods as yet unknown.
The stunning new collection of weird fiction from visionary writer D.P. Watt. The foolish wisdom of forlorn puppets. A diabolical chorus in many voices. Shadowy shapes emerging from the strange blueness. Dreamers of other truths. The delicate craft of filial love. You - and some other you. Creatures in the hedgerows. Cold rime creeping across darkened windows. The numinous night pool. A hive of pain. These and other nightmares await.
"DP Watt has real talent. It touches on and reflects the world we know, but as in a glass darkly." - Reggie Oliver
220 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 1, 2016
24 people are currently reading
197 people want to read
About the author
D.P. Watt
67 books75 followersD.P. Watt is a writer living between Scotland and England in an otherworldly, misty borderland. His collection of stories, An Emporium of Automata was reprinted by Eibonvale Press in 2013, and his second collection, The Phantasmagorical Imperative and Other Fabrications, is now available in paperback. A third collection, Almost Insentient, Almost Divine, appeared with Undertow Publications in 2016 and was nominated for a Shirley Jackson Award. He won the Ghost Story Award 2015 for his story ‘Shallabalah’ published in The Ghosts and Scholars Newsletter, no 26.You can find him at The Interlude House: www.theinterludehouse.co.uk
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May 24, 2016Table Of Contents:
VII - "The Terrible Foolish Wisdom of the Puppet: A Preface" by Timothy J. Jarvis
023 - "SOMEWHERE"
025 - "With Gravity, Grace"
037 - "A Delicate Craft"
049 - "Shallabalah"
059 - "Myself/Thyself"
071 - "Mr Egare"
079 - "A Hive of Pain"
089 - "ELSEWHERE"
091 - "Mors Janua Vitae"
101 - "Honey Moon"
125 - "At the Sign of the Burning Leaf"
135 - "In Comes I"
147 - "The Man We All Imagined I Might Have Been"
165 - "NOWHERE"
167 - "The Mechanised Eccentric"
183 - "The Pornographer’s Calendar"
195 - "The Usher"
217 - "Archontes Ascendant"
227 - "Lotska"
"Mors Janua Vitae", ‘The Pornographer’s Calendar" and "Lotska" are original to this publication.
Cover Art Tran Nguyen
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VII - "The Terrible Foolish Wisdom of the Puppet: A Preface" by Timothy J. Jarvis
023 - "SOMEWHERE"
025 - "With Gravity, Grace"
037 - "A Delicate Craft"
049 - "Shallabalah"
059 - "Myself/Thyself"
071 - "Mr Egare"
079 - "A Hive of Pain"
089 - "ELSEWHERE"
091 - "Mors Janua Vitae"
101 - "Honey Moon"
125 - "At the Sign of the Burning Leaf"
135 - "In Comes I"
147 - "The Man We All Imagined I Might Have Been"
165 - "NOWHERE"
167 - "The Mechanised Eccentric"
183 - "The Pornographer’s Calendar"
195 - "The Usher"
217 - "Archontes Ascendant"
227 - "Lotska"
"Mors Janua Vitae", ‘The Pornographer’s Calendar" and "Lotska" are original to this publication.
Cover Art Tran Nguyen
Share this:
January 26, 2024
Watt does a hell of a lot more with the ontological horror implicit in puppetry than Ligotti has achieved; the latter's living ghost, nevertheless, appears in the preface. But the specter of such influence certainly does not haunt this collection to the detriment of Watt's visionary tendencies. Whether the reader considers the aesthetic terrorism waged by a secret society on a widowed master of puppet-making in "With Gravity, Grace" or "The Usher" whose titular character's intimations of "toy-theaters" and "districts of time" force one to reimagine Theater itself as the threshold of all possible realities, these and most of the better stories intensely explore and appropriate how histrionic performance, regardless of the performer's intent, often elucidates the long-unsolved problem of our existence as virtually infinite though actually finite beings.
Not all of the stories, effective or not, involve an explicitly theatrical treatment of the difficulties of being caught in the space separating the divine and the insentient, gods and puppets. Appearing to be at least an intensely-described series of vignettes darkly evoking life in an obscure seaside village, "A Hive of Pain", by its climax, elevates the villagers' general world-weariness to a moment of searing world-empathy in which a single man seems to take on the global suffering of the 20th century's first half.
Displaying Watt's clear understanding of the use and value of absurdism, still relevant at least to the Weird, "The Man We All Imagined I Might Have Been" follows the ramifications of a man whose enlightenment, regarding the artificiality of identity--and perhaps even selfhood--leads him to constantly reinvent his appearance and mannerisms, often to darkly hilarious results. A trio of paragraphs, each one being a brief meditation on the nonlinearity of past, present and future, brings a deeply stimulating end to this equally entertaining and profound tale.
As is typical for the more daring practitioners of the Weird, Watt's less successful works often lack a developed sense of the internal logic necessary to engage the reader's belief; "At the Sign of the Burning Leaf", "Myself/Thyself" and "The Pornographer's Calendar" are probably the most glaringly flawed in this regard. However, at his best, Watt combines a nearly-Nabokovian mastery of narrative skill and prose styling with an often unnervingly perceptive treatment of all the concepts and themes we've come to expect from the more philosophically-inclined pathways of dark fiction.
Not all of the stories, effective or not, involve an explicitly theatrical treatment of the difficulties of being caught in the space separating the divine and the insentient, gods and puppets. Appearing to be at least an intensely-described series of vignettes darkly evoking life in an obscure seaside village, "A Hive of Pain", by its climax, elevates the villagers' general world-weariness to a moment of searing world-empathy in which a single man seems to take on the global suffering of the 20th century's first half.
Displaying Watt's clear understanding of the use and value of absurdism, still relevant at least to the Weird, "The Man We All Imagined I Might Have Been" follows the ramifications of a man whose enlightenment, regarding the artificiality of identity--and perhaps even selfhood--leads him to constantly reinvent his appearance and mannerisms, often to darkly hilarious results. A trio of paragraphs, each one being a brief meditation on the nonlinearity of past, present and future, brings a deeply stimulating end to this equally entertaining and profound tale.
As is typical for the more daring practitioners of the Weird, Watt's less successful works often lack a developed sense of the internal logic necessary to engage the reader's belief; "At the Sign of the Burning Leaf", "Myself/Thyself" and "The Pornographer's Calendar" are probably the most glaringly flawed in this regard. However, at his best, Watt combines a nearly-Nabokovian mastery of narrative skill and prose styling with an often unnervingly perceptive treatment of all the concepts and themes we've come to expect from the more philosophically-inclined pathways of dark fiction.
September 10, 2016
Watt’s stories are steeped in the classic work of Arthur Machen and M. R. James, a sensation at times heightened due to historical settings. You might initially nod with approval in recognition of some of the reference points. You might even settle into the stories, expecting the comfort of the antiquarian, but then you realize with a start that none (!) of these stories could have ever been published back in the day. The characters, the elements, the structure are all twisted, warped into something that is thoroughly modern. Watt is a slight-of-hand magician, lulling you into complacence by wearing the top hat and starched suit emblematic of the craft but then, like Penn and Teller, unraveling the ‘trick’ to reveal that it was really about something else altogether.
A few of my favorites from this collection (although one favorite must await my next paragraph…). “Mr Egare,” which references and reconfigures elements of Machen but leaves much to the reader’s intuition and ability to fill in the untold blanks, a jigsaw puzzle with some pieces missing. “In Comes I,” in which much is said, foretold about what is happening, but you, the reader are still carried along on its Christmas journey. “Mors Janua Vitae,” one of the previously unpublished stories from the collection, the responses from a one-sided conversation in which more is revealed than you might initially suspect by your park-bench companion.
I will also note the care with which the collection is put together. From the wonderful introduction by Timothy Jarvis, a story in and of itself but with the subject of Watts, to the Flemish mask designs that open each section of the collection, to the final story, also previously unpublished. “Lotska” is nothing like any of it predecessors, a strange snowy fantasy, but it is a perfect ending to the collection. If each of the previous stories is one word in a sentence, then this last story is the punctuation mark that draws that sentence to its close, not like anything that has come before but essential to the experience.
There are a lot of metaphors here, but that’s the best way I can describe my experience with this collection without simply reproducing the stories themselves.
A few of my favorites from this collection (although one favorite must await my next paragraph…). “Mr Egare,” which references and reconfigures elements of Machen but leaves much to the reader’s intuition and ability to fill in the untold blanks, a jigsaw puzzle with some pieces missing. “In Comes I,” in which much is said, foretold about what is happening, but you, the reader are still carried along on its Christmas journey. “Mors Janua Vitae,” one of the previously unpublished stories from the collection, the responses from a one-sided conversation in which more is revealed than you might initially suspect by your park-bench companion.
I will also note the care with which the collection is put together. From the wonderful introduction by Timothy Jarvis, a story in and of itself but with the subject of Watts, to the Flemish mask designs that open each section of the collection, to the final story, also previously unpublished. “Lotska” is nothing like any of it predecessors, a strange snowy fantasy, but it is a perfect ending to the collection. If each of the previous stories is one word in a sentence, then this last story is the punctuation mark that draws that sentence to its close, not like anything that has come before but essential to the experience.
There are a lot of metaphors here, but that’s the best way I can describe my experience with this collection without simply reproducing the stories themselves.
June 18, 2019
More like a 3.5 than a 4 in this case, but this was another good collection from Watt! It had some of the same highs as Phantasmagorical Imperative, but maybe not quite as lofty in as many cases, and a couple of the pieces in this one didn't do a ton for me. Some favorite stories were Honey Moon, The Usher, Myself/Thyself, and Shallabalah. Good and weird stories for the most part!
December 30, 2019
I have read D. P. Watt before and know that he is capable of greatness. However, sadly, I have found this collection to be very irregular. There were moments of brilliance, such as in "Honey Moon", "The Usher", "With Gravity, Grace", "Shallabalah", and "A Delicate Craft". Other stories, while not quite as memorable, were still entertaining, such as "At the Sign of the Burning Leaf", "Mr. Egare" and "In Comes I", but I am afraid to say that I found the remaining stories to be rather dull.
March 31, 2023
With Gravity, Grace ****
A Delicate Craft ****
Shallabalah ***
Myself/Thyself ***
Mr Egare ***
A Hive Of Pain *****
Mors Janua Vitae ****
Honey Moon *****
At The Sign Of The Burning Leaf ***
In Comes I ***
The Man We All Imagined I Might Have Been ***
The Mechanised Eccentric ***
The Pornographer's Calendar ***
The Usher ****
Archontes Ascendant ***
Lotska ****
A Delicate Craft ****
Shallabalah ***
Myself/Thyself ***
Mr Egare ***
A Hive Of Pain *****
Mors Janua Vitae ****
Honey Moon *****
At The Sign Of The Burning Leaf ***
In Comes I ***
The Man We All Imagined I Might Have Been ***
The Mechanised Eccentric ***
The Pornographer's Calendar ***
The Usher ****
Archontes Ascendant ***
Lotska ****
November 29, 2025
the intro sets this up to wear its influences on its sleeve, with stories that promise to follow their forebears. they're right in my wheelhouse and the stories aren't shy about their parentage: "honey moon" (machen), "with gravity, grace" (ligotti) and "the usher" (thomson), and "shallabalah" (lovecraft) are the closest to their lineage and some of the best here.
September 10, 2017
A decent collection of weird horror stories that starts and ends strong but sags in the middle. The most memorable stories from Almost Insentient, Almost Divine are the preface, "With Gravity, Grace", "Honey Moon", and "In Comes I".
January 27, 2021
The artist becomes art in D.P. Watt’s 2016 short story collection "Almost Insentient, Almost Divine." This is puppetry in motion, the blurring of the lines (or the strings) that connect a puppet and its master. The characters dance through these stories like marionettes inflamed with vision. The history and setting of these tales are a scenic backdrop.
Many of the characters are possessed, but it’s hard to say by what. They’re certainly animated much the way puppets are, though not by strings (however much the imagery of strings comes into effect). These characters are human automata possessed by visions of other worlds, other times. They’re possessed by alternate visions of their own worlds, glimpses of things that remain just out of view for the rest of us.
D.P. Watt’s offering is a truly formidable set of interlocked narratives that cut deeper than your run-of-the-mill horror. These stories blend historical fiction, social critique, experimentalism and the always-unnerving presence of creepy puppets.
Watt’s writing can be fluid and magical, deftly setting up events with literary special effects. He writes with liquid prose that can move objects without detection. Characters can change situations and mental states with creative potency where less talented writers require an obvious authorial intrusion to change a narrative’s course.
Watt’s writing has a Baroque quality to it. His narrative voice tends to the particular and can lead off into little curlicues of description. This is Watt’s secret. The reader is transfixed and the necessary shifts are made while attention is diverted by this immense and prolific of language. That’s how so many of the stories go from quaint to madness in just pages, paragraphs even. This is great backstage work as Watt is both writer and performer.
However, sometimes the sentences become a laden. “The world of cosmetics reaches its peak in the hidden world of the funeral parlor—every one of us emerging a pristine sculpture, dressed in our best for the caress of searing flame or he embrace of damp soil.” Heathcliff could have written these lines. Too much richness of language threatens the balance between the significant and the mundane. The master on occasion gets lost in his own creation. Like Baroque art, Watt’s writing at times can seem overwrought.
However, "Almost Insentient, Almost Divine" remains a fabulous and highly recommended collection of weird horror. Watt is a talented writer that can stand apart from genre and offers something to the reader who has any interest at all in anything outside of mundane, day-to-day life.
Many of the characters are possessed, but it’s hard to say by what. They’re certainly animated much the way puppets are, though not by strings (however much the imagery of strings comes into effect). These characters are human automata possessed by visions of other worlds, other times. They’re possessed by alternate visions of their own worlds, glimpses of things that remain just out of view for the rest of us.
D.P. Watt’s offering is a truly formidable set of interlocked narratives that cut deeper than your run-of-the-mill horror. These stories blend historical fiction, social critique, experimentalism and the always-unnerving presence of creepy puppets.
Watt’s writing can be fluid and magical, deftly setting up events with literary special effects. He writes with liquid prose that can move objects without detection. Characters can change situations and mental states with creative potency where less talented writers require an obvious authorial intrusion to change a narrative’s course.
Watt’s writing has a Baroque quality to it. His narrative voice tends to the particular and can lead off into little curlicues of description. This is Watt’s secret. The reader is transfixed and the necessary shifts are made while attention is diverted by this immense and prolific of language. That’s how so many of the stories go from quaint to madness in just pages, paragraphs even. This is great backstage work as Watt is both writer and performer.
However, sometimes the sentences become a laden. “The world of cosmetics reaches its peak in the hidden world of the funeral parlor—every one of us emerging a pristine sculpture, dressed in our best for the caress of searing flame or he embrace of damp soil.” Heathcliff could have written these lines. Too much richness of language threatens the balance between the significant and the mundane. The master on occasion gets lost in his own creation. Like Baroque art, Watt’s writing at times can seem overwrought.
However, "Almost Insentient, Almost Divine" remains a fabulous and highly recommended collection of weird horror. Watt is a talented writer that can stand apart from genre and offers something to the reader who has any interest at all in anything outside of mundane, day-to-day life.
January 8, 2021
So ends this remarkable book and the group of stories headed NOWHERE.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long to post here.
Above is its conclusion.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long to post here.
Above is its conclusion.
September 28, 2022
The preface by Timothy J. Jarvis is the best piece of fiction in this collection, possibly the best preface to a collection of short stories I have read.
January 27, 2019
D. P. Watt was another exemplary find for me. I remember exactly where I was when I read this Collection. On a particularly disastrous holiday in Devon. These stories took me away from all that and allowed me some peace. I hope for another collection by him soon, I Fear I am in need of it.
With Gravity Grace (8/10)
Mr Egarr (2/10)
Hive of Pain (2/10)
In Comes I (5/10)
The Mechanised Eccentric (4/10)
Shallaballa (3/10)
The Man We All Imagined (1/10)
A Delicate Craft (6/10)
Myself/Thyself (4/10)
Honey Moon (6/10)
The Usher (9/10)
Sign of the Burning Leaf (9/10)
Archontes Ascendant (5/10)
Mors Janua Vitae (7/10)
The Pornographers Calender (6/10)
Lotska (8/10)
With Gravity Grace (8/10)
Mr Egarr (2/10)
Hive of Pain (2/10)
In Comes I (5/10)
The Mechanised Eccentric (4/10)
Shallaballa (3/10)
The Man We All Imagined (1/10)
A Delicate Craft (6/10)
Myself/Thyself (4/10)
Honey Moon (6/10)
The Usher (9/10)
Sign of the Burning Leaf (9/10)
Archontes Ascendant (5/10)
Mors Janua Vitae (7/10)
The Pornographers Calender (6/10)
Lotska (8/10)
September 6, 2016
Favourite story: Honey Moon.
January 26, 2017
Many good, and some excellent weird tales. A pleasant surprise.
April 29, 2017
Gave up on this half way through. Funnily enough, the only story I actually enjoyed was the first one: The terrible foolish wisdom of the puppet. All other stories were average or worse.
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews