The Opener of the Way

by Robert Bloch

The Opener of the Way is a collection of fantasy and horror short stories and was the author's first book.

Genres: Horror, Short Stories, Fantasy, Fiction, Lovecraftian, Weird Fiction, Supernatural

176 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1945

About the author

Robert Albert Bloch was a prolific American writer. He was the son of Raphael "Ray" Bloch (1884, Chicago-1952, Chicago), a bank cashier, and his wife Stella Loeb (1880, Attica, Indiana-1944, Milwaukee, WI), a social worker, both of German-Jewish descent.

Bloch wrote hundreds of short stories and over twenty novels, usually crime fiction, science fiction, and, perhaps most influentially, horror fiction (Psycho). He was one of the youngest members of the Lovecraft Circle; Lovecraft was Bloch's mentor and one of the first to seriously encourage his talent.

He was a contributor to pulp magazines such as Weird Tales in his early career, and was also a prolific screenwriter. He was the recipient of the Hugo Award (for his story "That Hell-Bound Train"), the Bram Stoker Award, and the World Fantasy Award. He served a term as president of the Mystery Writers of America.

Robert Bloch was also a major contributor to science fiction fanzines and fandom in general. In the 1940s, he created the humorous character Lefty Feep in a story for Fantastic Adventures. He also worked for a time in local vaudeville, and tried to break into writing for nationally-known performers. He was a good friend of the science fiction writer Stanley G. Weinbaum. In the 1960's, he wrote 3 stories for Star Trek.

Reviews

[Julio Bernad · Rating 4 out of 5]

El relato Los honorarios del violinista se trata con más detalle en el Gabinete de Curiosidades - 15 Cuentos de terror para pasar Halloween (Parte I): https://go.ivoox.com/rf/118059422

Robert Bloch es un maestro incuestionable del horror. Pese a que su nombre pocas veces sale a relucir, quizá eclipsado por otras figuras de mayor personalidad que le precedieron, como su maestro H.P. Lovecraft, o le sucedieron, como Stephen King, o quizá por el gran éxito de sus adaptaciones cinematográficas. Todo el mundo recuerda Psicosis y su icónica escena homicida, pero muy pocos son los que saben que el material original pertenecía a un autor que comenzó muy joven su andadura en revistas pulp emulando el estilo y los delirios primigenios del solitario de Providence. Esta antología, la primera publicada por Valdemar y la segunda que yo leo, reúne gran parte de la obra breve de juventud de Robert Bloch. La mayoría de estos relatos se publicaron entre 1935 y 1940, cuando Bloch contaba con 18-28 años. Este dato no es baladí, pues muestra la gran precocidad y solvencia del maestro Bloch en el género del terror, así como una gran batería de defectos propios de la bisoñez.

Robert Bloch empezó su carrera en Weird Tales en 1935, siendo uno de los últimos integrantes del llamado Círculo de Lovecraft, y por tanto émulo de los ya consagrados Clark Asthon Smith, Frank Belknap Long y Robert E. Howard. Si algunos de los que leéis esta reseña habéis tenido la necesidad de escribir cuentos o versos, os habréis dado cuenta de hasta que punto somos esclavos de nuestras influencias. El efecto que las primeras lecturas obran en las mentes hipersensibles y aceleradas de los adolescentes es algo que solo se cura con el tiempo y con nuevas lecturas; por eso el proceso de releer nuestras creaciones de juventud es tan doloroso como vergonzoso. A Bloch le ocurre esto en muchos relatos. Es tal el afán de imitar y adecuarse al estilo de Lovecraft que es imposible no ver con cierta ternura estos primeros pastiches, hiperadjetivados, a rebosar de nombres pomposos y sonoros, con el doble de clichés habituales de Lovecraft pero con la mitad del talento que este. Por suerte, al ser tantos los cuentos de esta colección, puede verse una progresión del admirador al autor con personalidad propia, capaz de rendir homenaje sin renunciar a un estilo más personal.

A continuación, enumerare y clasificare todos los cuentos de que se compone la antología:

-La capa (***): es Halloween, y nuestro protagonista está muy necesitado de un disfraz con el que horrorizar a sus amigos y conocidos en la fiesta a la que tiene que acudir. Por suerte, encuentra una tienda misteriosa que parece tener el atavío perfecto para la ocasión. Un relato simpático, con mucho humor negro aunque con un final previsible.

-Escarabajos (***): llegamos a uno de los lugares comunes de esta antología y una de las pasiones de Bloch: la egiptología ¿Recordáis ese peliculón de los noventa protagonizado por Brendan Fraser? ¿Recordáis esos cariñosos coleópteros antropófagos combustible de pesadillas infantiles? No me atrevería decir que vienen de este relato, pero sí que aparecen en él.

-Los honorarios del violinista (*****): el primer gran relato de la colección, una historia mefistotélica clásica protagonizada por una de las grandes figuras de la música. De siempre se dijo que el virtuosismo de Paganini debía tener su origen en la brujería o el Diablo, y el estilo de vida licencioso del músico no hacia más que acrecentar esta fama. Este relato ahonda en estos rumores y nos presenta una historia de pacto satánico en la que un aspirante a violinista, por culpa del influjo maligno del insigne interprete, decide vender su alma para alcanzar la fama. Lo mejor, los toques necrófilos y el buen gusto conque se presentan.

-El homúnculo (***): Y llegamos al primer relato con reminiscencias lovecraftianas. El protagonista vuelve a reunirse con un amigo de juventud en un pueblo aislado. Dicho amigo lleva a cuestas el peso de una ascendencia maligna y de una enorme chepa, y sus rarezas de juventud parecen haberse intensificado a causa del aislamiento y la suspicacia de los lugareños. No es el peor relato lovecraftiano de la colección, pero ni mucho menos el mejor.

-El extraño vuelo de Richard Clayton (***): un relato de ciencia ficción con trasfondo terrorífico. El pionero cosmonauta, Richard Clayton, se dispone a realizar el primer vuelo interplanetario a marte. Sin embargo, algo parece salir mal durante la ignición, y el viaje se prolonga más de lo debido. Este relato es como el reverso tenebroso del final de Contacto de Carl Sagan. Por desgracia, el batiburrillo de escenas inquietantes, a día de hoy, dan más risa que miedo.

-Suyo afectísimo, Jack el Destripador (****): ¿Y si Jack el Destripador, el despiadado carnicero que sembró el caos en Whitechapel en 1888 con sus sádicos crímenes, no hubiera desaparecido? ¿Y si hubiera estado alargando su vida artificialmente gracias a la brujería para poder seguir asesinando por todo el mundo a lo largo de la historia? Otro buen relato muy divertido y muy original, cuya idea principal retomaría para la colección Visiones peligrosas con Un juguete para Juliette, cambiando el trasfondo fantástico por la ciencia ficción. Este último también merece mucho la pena.

-El influjo del sátiro (***): un relato que podría haber firmado perfectamente Pilar Pedraza de haber estado escrito mejor. Un joven antropólogo viaja a Grecia para investigar los cultos pánicos de la antigüedad, de los que se dice pueden otorgar la vida eterna a aquel dispuesto a sacrificar su forma humana. Bueno, y a otro ser humano. Lo mejor, el clímax del cuento: Bloch sabe muy bien como describir una alucinación terrorífica.

-El demonio negro (**): un relato lovecraftiano protagonizado por totally-not-Lovecraft. Un escritor de relatos de terror, que dice plasmar en sus escritos sus sueños lucidos, termina por sucumbir ante sus delirios oníricos. Si sois aficionados a los Mitos de Cthulhu probablemente os resulte más interesante de lo que me ha resultado a mí.

-El dios sin rostro (***): volvemos al Egipto de los Mitos en un relato sobre Nyarlatothep, en el que se nos presenta a un egiptólogo sin escrúpulos que no le importa torturar y asesinar para conseguir la información que le lleve hasta un ídolo oscuro enterrado en las arenas del desierto. Pese a que el relato se hace algo aburrido por lo repetitivo de la fórmula, el repugnante protagonista tiene un destino horrible a medida de su hijoputismo. Solo por eso le doy otra estrella más.

-La casa del hacha (***): este relato esta más relacionado con los cuentos recogidos en la segunda antología valdemariana, Dulces sueños, que con el resto de los aquí presentes. Es una mezcla entre cuento de fantasmas y de psicópatas, subgénero que daría renombre a Bloch en su madurez. Un guionista en horas bajas atrapado en un matrimonio sin amor y castrante decide revivir su luna de miel con la esperanza de que su mujer le deje tranquilo una temporada. En su viaje, la pareja se encuentra con una atracción de feria, una casa encantada en la que se cometió un terrible crimen con un hacha. Como os digo, es un relato que contrasta mucho con el resto, ya no por el cambio de registro sino por el desarrollo de personajes: los intercambiables narradores lovecraftianos, narradores funcionales sin desarrollo ni personalidad dan paso a seres humanos capaces de hablar como seres humanos y de mostrar más emociones que las de un terror indescriptible.

-El que abre el camino (***): el relato que da nombre a la antología es otro cuento perteneciente a los Mitos de Cthulhu ambientado en Egipto. En este, una pareja de egiptólogos, padre e hijo, realizan un descubrimiento que abre sus puertas perceptivas a los horrores cósmicos. Todo un clásico de los pastiches lovecraftianos, con ese encanto que solo la sentida admiración juvenil por un autor puede dar.

-Regreso al Sabbat (**): un relato de brujería en el Hollywood de la edad de oro que bebe, superficialmente, de la oscura fama de Max Schreck, interprete que dio vida al conde Orlok en Nosferatu, con tanta convicción y realismo, que pensaron que Murnau había contratado a un vampiro real. En este caso, Jorla no es tanto un vampiro como otro tipo de no muerto igual de popular. Una buena idea pero no muy buen desarrollo.

-Los canarios del mandarín (***): en una China imperial indeterminada, un potentado satisface sus sádicas perversiones con la impunidad que le confiere su cargo, combinando su gusto por lo macabro por su afición por la ornitología. Un cuento cruel y morboso que termina de manera satisfactoria, con buenas dosis de gore. Un plus por los canarios antropófagos que parecen más pirañas emplumadas que pájaros inocentes.

-Figuras de cera (****): un poeta bohemio descubre en una de sus noches toledanas un misterioso museo de cera que contiene, entre su variada selección de criminales y asesinos famosos, una representación muy lograda de Salomé, cuya belleza rápidamente subyuga a nuestro protagonista hasta llegar a obsesionarle. Volvemos a los toques necrófilos y a la brujería; al Bloch más sugerente y, a la vez, más explicito.

-Festín en la abadía (**): otro relato que adolece de las ya citadas carencias propias de la juventud: un uso abusivo de adjetivos, una atmosfera excesivamente recargada, un final previsible que falla tanto en ser impactante como sorprendente y una ausencia total de intriga. Un jinete extraviado encuentra refugio en una abadía desconocida en la que castidad, mesura y piedad son virtudes orientativas pero no obligatorias.

-Esclavo de las llamas (***): un disminuido psíquico con tendencias pirómanas consigue llamar la atención de una secta de inmortales adoradores del fuego, entre la que se encuentra el mismísimo Nerón. Es un relato con potencial, que utiliza como un escenario una tragedia real, el incendio que carbonizó Chicago en los años treinta. Sin embargo, el desarrollo se ralentiza demasiado a causa de tanto delirio y referencias arcanas, que alarga la acción hasta un final poco satisfactorio.

-El vampiro estelar (***): un clásico de los mitos de Cthulhu que Bloch escribió siendo un adolescente y que contiene, no es broma, el asesinato literario del mismísimo Lovecraft -este mismo le escribió, encantado, su consentimiento para ser muerto por su obscenidad cósmica. El desarrollo es el acostumbrado: escritor de terror neófito quiere expandir sus conocimientos para abarcar el HORROR -así, en mayúsculas- con la ayuda de grimorios siniestros, y que terminan, irremediablemente, poniéndolo en contacto con criaturas extraterrenas de inconmensurable poder. El inicio es tan pastiche de lo que hacia Lovecraft y es tan impostada su solemnidad, que uno no puede sino derretirse de ternura. Cito textualmente, porque es muy cuqui:

En literatura, he caminado con Poe por senderos ocultos, me he arrastrado con Machen entre las sombras, he cruzado con Baudelaire las regiones de las hórridas estrellas, o me he sumergido en las profundidades de la Tierra, guiado por los relatos de la antigua ciencia. Mi escaso talento para el dibujo me obligó a intentar describir con torpes palabras los seres fantásticos que moraban en mis sueños tenebrosos. Esta misma inclinación por lo siniestro, se manifestaba también en mis preferencias musicales. Mis composiciones favoritas eran la Suite de los planetas y otras del mismo género. Mi vida interior se convirtió muy pronto en un perpetuo festín de horrores fantásticos, refinadamente crueles.

Y yo me pregunto, ya por curiosidad, ¿qué tiene la Suite de los planetas de siniestro hasta el punto de emparentarlo con Poe?

-Madre de las serpientes (****): toca Haití y, por supuesto, vudú. Abrazando todos los mitos racistas de Seabrook, Bloch teje un relato de maldiciones y de sórdidas torturas africanas con un tufo racista tan, pero tan, exagerado que es imposible no disfrutarlo por excesivo. También contiene algunas imágenes bastante impactantes.

-El secreto de Sebek y Los ojos de la momia (***): califico ambos relatos juntos porque el segundo es una continuación directa del primero. A estas alturas del libro no os negaré que estaba un poco harto de maldiciones egipcias, momias, piramides y dioses con cabezas de animales. No negaré, tampoco, que el segundo termina de una forma bastante impresionante y hasta cierto punto enfermiza.

-Viaje sin retorno a Marte (****): un buen relato surrealista en el que un músico alcohólico es atormentado por un hombre embozado en un abrigo marrón que le promete entregarle un billete de ida a Marte. La insistencia del individuo, unido al hecho de que solo el músico puede verle, harán que el protagonista viva un verdadero descenso a la locura.

-Las cuatro esquinas de la cama de la vida (****): llegamos a los tres últimos relatos del la colección y de los últimos que el autor escribiera en vida. No puede notarse más la evolución del estilo y cambio de intereses y temáticas. Este relato en concreto es sorprendente por dos motivos, primero, por el protagonismo que tiene el sexo (los del círculo de Lovecraft podían ser muy aventureros en cuanto a horrores indescriptibles pero eran pacatos un rato) y, segundo, porque es una historia que muchos de mi quinta, y me consta que mas mayores, han escuchado a modo de leyenda urbana. No se si este cuento la inició o no, pero no deja de ser algo bastante llamativo.

-Atrapada en el saco (****): en una subasta, un bromista puja hasta hacerse con un saco cerrado que contiene un fantasma. Cuando intenta poner en marcha una broma durante una fiesta, obviamente, termina por no hacer ni pizca de gracia. Un cuento bastante simpático, con un desarrollo tan bueno y con tan buen humor que no importa el poco impacto que deja el final.

-Un exhorto creativo (***): para finalizar, un relato metaliterario en el que dos ideas discuten sobre la identidad e intenciones del creador del cuento ¿será un dios benévolo o un diabólico artesano? Ya hemos leído suficientes cuentos de Robert Bloch para saber que clase de deidad es...

[Forrest · Rating 4 out of 5]

Greatness? Write this way...

(originally written for The Arkham Archives)

More than sixty years have passed since the publication of the first Robert Bloch book, The Opener of the Way. Never mind the small paperback of "Sea-Kissed" that preceded Opener, because Henry Kuttner shared the credit for the British and Irish unauthorized publications of that near-pamphlet.

In some respects, The Opener of the Way is a typical fantasy book of its era. Its contents were culled mostly from the already musty pages of Weird Tales. The dustwrapper informs the reader that the "book was produced in a wartime format, of lighter weight paper and smaller margins, to assure a more compact book, in accordance with government regulation." As such, cheaper paper was used, so truly fine copies of the book are difficult to locate.

But let us give all thanks to The Black Goat that the book is "complete and unabridged," because each story is excellently weird and proves that the young Bloch was as much a master as the mature author who penned Psycho. In fact, it is surprising that ten years passed between Bloch's first magazine sale and the publication of the book.

The earliest tales are youthfully in the tradition of H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos, which is not shocking considering Bloch's weird tutor was the Old Gentleman himself. What is surprising is the effectiveness of these early pastiches, their absolute pulpiness notwithstanding, as in "The Shambler from the Stars." Bloch was wise enough even as a teen-ager to infuse his particular interests, such as Egyptology, into the Mythos, rather than to drone on about quotidian, nameless monsters and the same old forbidden tomes, as most dull Lovecraft imitators did and still do.

The monsters and tomes are present in these early stories, but are used sparingly, especially as Bloch mustered his unique voice. "The Faceless God" employs both Egyptology and Lovecraft's Nyarlathotep, and though it remains within the confines of a
Mythos story, it stands out as something apart from the cycle, too.

"The Mannikin" is a better example of Bloch's tendency to extend a Mythos tale beyond its tradition. Not only does it NOT drone, it thrills. And it does so even though it involves an extremely Lovecraftian main character (Simon Maglore) and the invocation of the usual demonic cast (Nyarlathotep and friends) by the aid of the usual grimoires (in this case not The Necronomicon, but Ludvig Prinn's Mysteries of the Worm). The result incorporates elements of HPL's Mythos, but evolves into an odd and gruesome story of a witch's familiar that is far more disturbing than Brown Jenkin from "The Dreams in the Witch House."

The introduction to The Early Fears, which reprints both The Opener of the Way and Pleasant Dreams, addresses the issue of political incorrectness. Bloch states that he does not feel the need to apologize for his naïve depiction of blacks and other minorities because his early writing was inevitably informed by a culture that accepted prejudice as something proper and natural. (Whether you think prejudice is proper is your own moral decision, but it is natural, you must admit.) The most outrageously racist of the stories is about Haitian voodoo ("The Mother of Serpents"), which was published while Lovecraft was still alive. I suspect Bloch was seeking approval from Lovecraft, who was a lifelong outspoken negrophobe. After HPL died, there was little need for Bloch to continue writing such stories.

The remaining tales prove Bloch was a writer fully comfortable with his own voice. Gone are the "Ia Ia's" we love, but in their place are the screams of the victims of "The House of the Hatchet," a story which can be read as a precursor to some of the themes of Psycho. Another murderous classic is "Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper," which was later adapted for radio. A few of the stories are somewhat influenced by the weird menace and mystery/detective pulps, such as "The Mandarin's Canaries" and "The Return to the Sabbath," respectively. Although their themes are both occult and supernatural, the latter in particular is also a mystery. It is no wonder Bloch is as respected in that genre as he is in the field of weird fiction.

The last story in the collection is science fictional, although it remains weird at heart. Bloch cites "One Way to Mars" as a departure from the confines of the traditional weird fiction format, though thankfully he never abandoned the field.

When I attended the NecronomiCon in 1993, Bloch was the guest of honor. During his Cthulhu breakfast speech he told the conventioneers that, although he realized his fame came from Psycho, he wanted to be remembered as a Weird Tales author. He will also be remembered as a humorous and kind man, one never haughty toward his fans and one always humble, no matter how many awards he deservedly accumulated.

Notes on the book: The Arkham House edition of The Opener of the Way had a print run of 2,065 copies. The Ronald Clyne dustwrapper I find to be lackluster. Perhaps the lazily reclining monster is supposed to be an illustration for the included story "The Seal of the Satyr," but an Egyptian scene of horror would have been more appropriate. Signed copies are by no means scarce. When I presented my copy to Bloch for an autograph, he joked that it was worth more money unsigned, as it is the rarest state of the book. Don't listen to him. The signature does improve the value, but not by much.

[Marvin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Robert Bloch's first book and still one of his best. This has most of his Lovecraft influenced stories but you can see that the author is placing his more modern style into the mix.

[Pam Baddeley · Rating 3 out of 5]

Looking through other reviews, it sounds as if the contents of this book may have differed in the US edition compared to the UK one I read, which was based on a 1974 British hardback edition, so the contents of the one I read was as follows:
The Opener of the Way
The Cloak
Beetles
The Fiddler's Fee
The Mannikin
The Strange Flight of Richard Clayton
Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper
The Seal of the Satyr
The Dark Demon
The Faceless God

For stories written in the 1930s, the tales are not so disconcerting to modern sensibilities as some of the 1950s collections I've read this year. That's not to say there are no racist stereotypes cropping up occasionally, as in one story where a very minor character is described in terms that would not be acceptable these days. Bloch avoids the endemic tendency in old pulp fiction to describe women as feeble minded and trivial, mainly by not having women at all in many of his stories, but in the 'The Cloak', where a woman does feature as an alluring and outspoken character with whom the hero is hopelessly infatuated, this turns out to have a supernatural explanation.

A couple of tales veer into HP Lovecraft territory, 'The Dark Demon' actually name-checking Lovecraft, and having a hero somewhat based upon him. If I remember rightly, as a writer in his teens, Bloch did exchange letters with Lovecraft who was a prolific correspondent, and received encouragement. His take on Lovecraft themes is more original than a lot of later derivative fiction, as he brings in new elements such as the Egyptian setting in 'The Faceless God'.

Others show originality, such as 'The Mannikin'. The same basic idea was used many years later as the basis for a very striking X-Files episode, but Bloch did it first. Another, 'The Strange Flight of Richard Clayton' is straight science fiction, but with a strong psychological component. 'The Fiddler's Fee' is a traditional folktale of dealings with the devil and foregrounds the real historical character of Paganini, or at least the character as portrayed in popular culture. 'Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper' is an intriguing tale where I did guess the twist quite early on, but I imagine people of the time would have been less likely to do so having not seen the same idea re-used in later TV shows etc. Despite that, I enjoyed the story until the aforementioned racist stereotype applied to someone in a bar caused me to stumble.

All in all, quite an interesting collection of tales of the supernatural and strange, with a science fiction story added to the mix.

[Graham · Rating 4 out of 5]

Robert Bloch's first collection of short stories, culled from his writings in the 1930s pulp magazines. This review is of the British paperback edition by Panther (complete with excellent cover image) which consists of ten tales. One of these, THE STRANGE FLIGHT OF RICHARD CLAYTON, is a sci-fi effort about a voyage to Mars complete with obligatory twist ending, while the rest are a mix of horror efforts, a handful of them part of the Cthulhu Mythos.

The opening titular story is Bloch's pyramid tale, complete with an atmospheric and rather underwritten climax I liked quite a bit. THE CLOAK is best known for being the source for the Jon Pertwee segment of Amicus' THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD, although it's very different here but still a fitting revisit of the old vampire legends. BEETLES goes back to Egypt again, this time for a full-blooded curse that reminded of the Hal Holbrook segment in CREEPSHOW.

THE FIDDLER'S FEE is about real-life violinist Paganini and another version of the old selling-your-soul-to-the-Devil routine, perhaps a little too long this time around. But YOURS TRULY, JACK THE RIPPER, the author's homage to history's most infamous serial killer, is one of his very best. THE SEAL OF THE SATYR is a traditional horror effort with a good, exotic setting in Greece and a dream-like atmosphere.

There are three Mythos stories collected here, all of them decent. THE DARK DEMON is slight but fun, notable for both namechecking Lovecraft and featuringly a thinly-disguised version of the author in the tale itself. THE FACELESS GOD uses Cthulhoid creations for a story of greed leading to a suitable demise for a truly unpleasant character, while best of all is THE MANNIKIN, essentially Bloch's version of THE CASE OF CHARLES DEXTER WARD, albeit a lot shorter but still packing in the atmosphere and chills. Good stuff!

[Ignacio Senao f · Rating 4 out of 5]

Junto a Matheson, son los autores más macabros y rotundos en sus finales.

En pocas páginas es capaz de meterte en un suceso que suele ser perturbador, pero muy sutilmente y finalizándolo contundentemente.

Nada que ver sus relatos con la basura de Psicosis. Aquí demuestra su macabra visión de la vida y en psicosis la macabra visión de los que viven en ella.

[R.R. López]

Una magnífica muestra de la solvencia de Bloch como escritor, con un amplio espectro de relatos, aunque quizá los de los mitos de Cthulhu hayan sido los menos relevantes de este volumen, y eso que empecé a leerlo por ellos, pero el resto compensan gracias al buen hacer del creador de "Psicosis".

[Leah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Since there seem to be different versions of this collection, I'm reviewing the one issued in 2025 by Valancourt, which seems to contain 21 stories. I say 'seems' because, despite charging full price, they haven't bothered to include an index - bad show for 2025. Makes navigating the collection difficult.

I've only read seven of the stories, so this isn't a review of the full collection. The stories seem to be a mix of standard horror, occasional dark thrillers, and some 'weird' stuff based on Lovecraft's mythos. While competently written, none of the stories seemed to me to bring anything original, in whichever genre. Horror can work in one of two main ways - either by building up a creepy atmosphere through the quality of the writing, or by providing a jump-shock at the end, to suddenly startle and scare. These stories do neither. I found a complete lack of atmosphere, and in every one of the seven that I read, he went for the most obvious ending, so that there was no element of surprise.

I didn't hate them - they're fine. But they're not special, so I decided to give up and look elsewhere to fulfil my cravings for creepiness.

[Marcos Ibáñez Gordillo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reseña tanto de "El que abre el camino"(2/5) como de "El que cierra el camino" (4/5). No porque tenga demasiao que ver sino porque me da la gana.

Robert Bloch es por ahora el continuador que más me ha gustao y leer estos dos relatos juntos mola mucho.
Uno lo escribió con 19 años y otro ya de anciano, y se nota.

[Tobias Nilsson]

Heard on HorrorBabble

[Hannah Edmonds · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's hard to believe that the man who wrote these short stories also wrote Psycho. These stories hold and entirely different sort of horror.

Bloch, like many of his peers was heavily influenced by Lovecraft, even using some of Lovecraft's monstrous creations in his stories. While monster tales aren't my favourite, I did find a couple of these quite scary.

My personal favourites in this collection though are; The Fiddler's Fee, a story about a young musician who strikes a deal with the devil, The Strange Flight of Richard Clayton, when he decides to travel solo to Mars, Richard soon loses track of time and with nothing else to occupy his mind, slowly begins to lose the plot. Lastly, I loved Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper; this was a very unique, supernatural take on the infamous murderer.

Bloch's imagination knows no bounds and each story is unique. While the Lovecraftian tales weren't my favourites, they're incredibly well written and could have been written by the man himself.

[Debra]

Stephen King recommended author and book.

In 1981's Danse Macabre, King dedicated his book as follows: "It's easy enough - perhaps too easy - to memorialize the dead. This book is for the six great writers of the macabre who are still alive." The six listed were Robert Bloch, Jorge Luis Borges, Ray Bradbury, Frank Belknap Long, Donald Wandrei, Manly Wade Wellman.

Book favorably mentioned in Chapter 2 of Berkley's 1983 paperback edition of Danse Macabre.

[Andrew Reeder · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bloch's early short stories are bracing and full of life (and gruesome death) even as he searches for the mature writing voice that will later bring us terror laden tales tinged with pathos such as the novel Psycho; he beguiles us with some of the best American short horror fiction put to paper. One could opt to purchase the eBook or even the British 1st Edition, but none hold the intimacy and familiarity of the masterful and highly sought after Arkham House Edition.

[Chris Aldridge · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mindwebs audiobook 67 narrates “The Strange Flight of Richard Clayton” by Robert Bloch 1939 included in this collection. An epic journey to Mars, expected to take 20 years for the round trip. Can he stay sane without entertainment or even pen and paper ? Not bad...

[Edgar · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cthulhu Mythos bibliography mixed with curses from Ancient Egypt and everyday horror in the roaring 20s. Quite gruesome for the Lovecraft circle. One star is for the wonderful edition.

[Michael Sorbello · Rating 4 out of 5]

A maddening tale about a father’s search for forbidden knowledge, told in the style of a Cthulhu Mythos tale but with Egyptian lore as the central theme and premise.

[Per · Rating 3 out of 5]

https://archive.org/details/Weird_Tal...

[The Blog Without a Face · Rating 4 out of 5]

BWAF Score: 8/10

If you want a single volume that slaps the chalice out of Lovecraft’s hand, pisses in Poe’s punch bowl, and moonwalks through a mausoleum while reciting the Necronomicon backwards for giggles, it’s Robert Bloch’s The Opener of the Way. Published in 1945 by Arkham House (yes, that Arkham House) this debut collection kicked open a lot more than just tomb doors. It booted American horror into the modern era wearing clown shoes soaked in embalming fluid and irony. I’m not sure what that fucking means, but it feels right.

Now, 80 years on, it still hits like a shovel to the skull.

Before he carved his name into pop culture with Psycho (yes, that Psycho), Robert Bloch was a teenage protege of H.P. Lovecraft. But unlike so many other Mythos suck-ups, Bloch didn’t just trace over Cthulhu’s tentacles. He cracked the cosmic horror mold with a crooked grin and added a potent new ingredient: the deeply human, deeply funny macabre. What if Lovecraft could write dialogue that didn’t sound like a thesaurus had a panic attack?

The stories in The Opener of the Way were mostly published in Weird Tales between 1934 and 1945, when Bloch was in his teens and twenties. Let that sink in. While you were still learning how to lie convincingly about reading Infinite Jest, Bloch was inventing half the horror archetypes that would later feed generations of pulp, film, and goth kids with Anubis tattoos.

This book is a damn mausoleum filled with 21 horror stories, each more unhinged than the last. You get cursed Egyptian artifacts (The Faceless God, The Opener of the Way), psychosexual fever dreams (The Mandarin’s Canaries), Hollywood necromancy (Return to the Sabbath), and undead slapstick (The Cloak). And then there’s Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper, the story that made urban legends wish they had literary agents.

The themes? Death, madness, revenge, identity loss, and cosmic horror with a side of gallows humor. If a young devil ever compiled his high school yearbook, this would be it.

Fear of the Other – Whether it’s ancient Egyptian gods, Haitian snake cults, or bloodsuckers in a penthouse, Bloch repeatedly returns to the horror of the foreign invading the familiar. But unlike Lovecraft’s xenophobic tone, Bloch often critiques the protagonist’s arrogant Western attitudes. They deserve what’s coming.

Madness and Identity Loss – Many of Bloch’s characters walk around with big brains and bigger egos. They want forbidden knowledge, but they’re about as stable as wet papier-mâché. They’re not heroes, but rather cautionary tales in pants.

Death as Comedy – The wildest theme? Death is not sacred, rather treated as a punchline. In The Cloak, vampirism is played for laughs and then sucker-punched with a cruel twist. It’s meta before meta was a thing, long before Scream figured out how to make horror self-aware.

Performance and Persona – Whether it’s failed writers, hack actors, or fake mystics, Bloch loathes pretenders. And then he feeds them to monsters. This is horror written by a guy who knows showbiz is just a long con with better lighting.

Robert Bloch’s writing is the bridge between Lovecraft’s purple-drenched doom and Richard Matheson’s lean, mean horror machine. When he’s aping Lovecraft early on (The Secret of Sebek), you can hear the adjectives sweating. But when his own voice kicks in—dry, ironic, and cold as a grave hug—holy hell does it sing.

Bloch’s gift is making even the grotesque feel human. He doesn’t describe monsters so much as impersonate them from the inside. Every narrator is a little too proud, a little too greedy, a little too close to snapping. That’s not just cosmic horror, but psychological precision. Lovecraft gave us the fear of the unknowable. Bloch gives us the fear of knowing exactly what you are, deep down.

Standout Stories
- The Cloak – Arguably the first self-aware vampire comedy, decades before Fright Night or What We Do in the Shadows. Ends like a slap in the face with a shovel.
- Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper – Still one of the best horror stories of the 20th century. An immortal serial killer hiding in plain sight. One of Stephen King’s favorites. Deservedly.
- The Opener of the Way – If Indiana Jones accidentally joined the Church of Nyarlathotep and got eaten by his own plot devices, it’d look like this. The titular tale has a lingering, apocalyptic dread that anticipates Clive Barker by decades.
- Return to the Sabbath – Old Hollywood + necromancy = a literal resurrection of the idea that film is ritual magic. Campy but deeply unsettling.
- The Mandarin’s Canaries – What if sadism was gourmet? Pure, decadent horror. Bloch’s prose here slips into baroque like an opium-addled Victorian before yanking your guts out with tweezers.

Not every corpse in this crypt is fresh. Bloch’s early pastiches of Lovecraft (The Faceless God, The Feast in the Abbey) can feel like imitation séances. There’s occasional racism and Orientalist weirdness typical of the era, particularly in Mother of Serpents and The Secret of Sebek. These aren’t dealbreakers, but they’re glaring. Also, Bloch sometimes relies on a punchline structure. A shocking ending can be great for pulp, but occasionally undermines the emotional resonance. Horror shouldn’t always need a mic drop.

Bloch wasn’t the first horror writer, but he was the first to blend fear, satire, and psychological rot in this way. His prose is occasionally bloated early on, but hits its stride mid-collection with sharp, cinematic clarity. At its best, The Opener of the Way still slaps harder than most of what’s on the shelves today. From cosmic horror to satire of artistic pretension, this thing goes places. While not flawless, this collection is unforgettable. Still holding court at the haunted head table.

Final word?
Robert Bloch wasn’t just opening the way. He was kicking down the door, flicking cigarette ash on the carpet of polite horror fiction, and whispering, “You’re next.”

TL;DR: Robert Bloch’s The Opener of the Way is the ur-text for smart, savage, subversive horror. 80 years old and it still kicks like a mule with a grudge. If Lovecraft opened a door to cosmic dread, Bloch walked through it flipping the bird and telling jokes about it afterward.

Recommended for: People who want their horror with brains, bile, and black humor. Writers who need a masterclass in tone control, or who’ve considered strangling a pompous lit professor mid-lecture.

Not recommended for: Anyone who clutches pearls at blasphemy, necrophilia-adjacent subtext, or a story where you root for the vampire. Readers who need their horror “elevated.” This isn’t elevated horror. This is horror that digs down, pulls something out of the soil, and makes it laugh at you.

[Jesse · Rating 3 out of 5]

A mixed bag of apprentice work and more characteristic Bloch humor, pub. dates 1934-45, with much of the later material funnier and less formulaic. Let's just say that if you want to gorge on unspeakable books and whispering shadows and dark rites and beast-headed gods and evil doings in Saracen lands and all the other classic weird-tale foofaraw, this...lades it out in gobs. A lot of the early stories end with a hysterical passage that ends in an exclamation point!, usually one that reveals hideous truths you kinda probably already guessed at. In "The Shambler from the Stars," HPL famously gets it from the title character, and another one features a different HPL stand-in. So I suppose that, if you want to reacquaint yourself with the formula and racist exoticisms of the genre, this has that; there's a lot about Egypt, a particular fascination of Bloch's, that is generally just orientalist; the one about Haiti, though...wow. Horrendously racist, piling it on sentence-to-sentence. Just blech.

Fortunately, a few later ones are worth your time. The one about losing your sense of time in a space capsule is effective cosmic horror without the usual booga-booga. I first read "Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper" at my uncle and aunt's dark and somewhat cobwebby country house in some Alfred Hitchcock mystery anthology when I was 12, and I swear I didn't sleep for a week. Reread it maybe a year ago, just to exorcise that feeling, but not particularly attentively. Don't know if it counts as a spoiler for a story that came out in 1943, but...I think I finally got what's going on with this one.

It's a comedy. We have an ageless ripper who's (fairly frequently, it must be said) sacrificing victims to Hecate to enjoy eternal life, but all he's trying to do in 1940s Chicago is hide out and work as a psychiatrist. And then this bloody stage Englishman comes along and dragoons him into helping and just will not shut up about it all. And so, on a foggy night, in a lonesome alley...a ripper's gotta do what a ripper's gotta do.

Did not know how often Bloch returned to that well. Maybe will see if I can read the rest of these.

[Mike · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m a disciple of Bloch and I’ve yet to even read Psycho. This was his first short story collection and I could have made a car payment for what I paid for this first edition hard cover, originally printed almost 75 years ago. No regrets here, though. The cover shown on the Good reads page is from the subsequent paperback and it didn’t include several stories in the hardback. There was additionally a later British hardback reprint that I believe may include everything.

Anyway, I’m just in awe of his short stories.
There are some great ones in here, with a few never reprinted. I’ve gone ahead and purchased several more of his later collections to read. Needless to say I’m a huge Bloch devotee and this is a great book.

If you’re a fan of speculative fiction, you’ll want to visit the website www.isfdb.org . It’s a terrific place to find out where and if short stories have or are reprinted in other collections. If you’re a true bibliophile you already knew this.

[Andreas Valentin · Rating 2 out of 5]

Selvom novellerne er skrevet som værende små, skæve og måske overraskende historier, så synes jeg at langt de fleste i denne samling halter en smule. De har måske en udmærket idé/præmis, men ofte drukner de lidt i nogle meget lange beskrivelser eller snørklede forklaringer - til tider forklaringer på ting som man allerede har regnet ud.
Her er så også et af de helt store problemer. De overraskende afslutninger, der er skrevet med hensigten, at få læseren til at lægge bogen fra sig og udbryde "det var lige godt satans", er næsten altid for nemme at regne ud, eller ikke effektfulde nok.

Der var nogle af historierne der fungerede ok. The Faceless God var ren Lovecraft-pastiche, men en af de mest effektfulde af historierne. Mine favoritter var:

The Cloak
The Fiddler's Fee
The Mannikin
The Faceless God

[Zach · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think Robert Bloch might be the most legitimate 20th century successor to Poe. While his themes in these early stories are Lovecraftian, reflecting his tutelage under Lovecraft, the artistry is Poe(tic). And unlike Lovecraft, Bloch delighted in describing his horrors in often gory and disturbing detail. Bloch is most known today for writing Psycho, but his body of work encompassed so much more, and until recently, Psycho and Final Reckonings were the only books of his still in print. Thankfully, Valancourt Books has rectified that.

[Jeff Hobbs]

Read so far:

[NB: Stories overlapping with "Pleasant Dreams" have been deleted.]
*The cloak
*Beetles
The fiddler's fee
*The mannikin
*The strange flight of Richard Clayton
Your truly, Jack the Ripper --3
The seal of the satyr
The dark demon
The faceless god
*The house of the hatchet
*The opener of the way
*Waxworks (aka Lady in wax)
The feast in the abbey --2
Slave of the flames
*The shambler from the stars
*Mother of serpents
*The secret of Sobek
*The eyes of the mummy

[Pietro · Rating 3 out of 5]

On the whole I liked this. I didn't *love* it, but I did like it. It feels like - as it is- the collection of a young writer's stories: there are clear echoes of ye Elder Authors he admired, but also flashes of the individuality that would signify his own mature work. Personal highlights/favourites include the Introduction, The Cloak and The Faceless God

[Scott Williams · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have previously known Bloch most for Psycho and his work on TV shows like Star Trek, but this is an entertaining read and I look forward to checking out more his work being published by Valancourt. Many of the stories in this volume have ancient Egyptian elements. There’s also a lot of Lovecraftian happenings.

[Love of Hopeless Causes · Rating 2 out of 5]

Audiobook title story review: Poor choice of POV results in a tellathon, Bloch should have used the son. Clunky universal POV switch right before the end. Doesn't move the mythos forward in any discernible way.

[Laurence]

The Opener of the Way 1/5

The Cloak
Beetles
The Fiddler's Fee
The Mannikin
The Strange Flight of Richard Clayton
Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper
The Seal of the Satyr
The Dark Demon
The Faceless God

[Ali · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5
The last few stories fell a bit flat for me. All the stories that were a bit Lovecraftian were definitely my favorite. I would say The Mannikin and Yours Truley, Jack the Ripper were my favorite. These stories all had a bit of a Twilight Zone feel.

[Tihana · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5/5
Interesting, not my personal fave of his, but still a good one!

[Alejandro Ramos · Rating 4 out of 5]

Horror psicológico-cósmico, de influencia fuertemente lovecraftniana, avaricia, decadencia, perversión, muerte y magia negra, perfecto para leer de noche.