Mission 2026: Binge reviewing all previous Reads, I was too slothful to review back when I read them
Robert E. Howard’s 'Solomon Kane: Skulls in the Stars' reads like a moral fable stripped of comfort, where righteousness is less a shield than a burden one insists on carrying anyway. What struck me most on rereading was how deliberately Howard stages the conflict between belief and terror. Kane is not fearless; he is stubborn. He advances into the haunted moor not because he understands it, but because his sense of justice refuses retreat. The supernatural menace here is vague, almost abstract, and that vagueness makes it more oppressive. The skulls, the whispers, the shifting darkness, all function less as concrete threats than as assaults on certainty itself. Howard’s prose is at its best when it leans into atmosphere, letting fog, silence, and isolation do the work of explanation. Violence, when it comes, is abrupt and unsatisfying, and that feels intentional. This is not a story about triumph but about endurance in the face of moral dread. Kane’s Puritan rigidity is not celebrated uncritically; it isolates him, hardens him, and leaves him perpetually alone. Yet there is a grim integrity in his refusal to compromise with fear, even when reason offers no support. What unsettled me was how little the story resolves. Evil is confronted, perhaps even disrupted, but never fully understood or eradicated. The world remains hostile, and Kane continues onward, unchanged and uncomforted. In that sense, the story feels almost existential. Faith here is not a source of peace but a discipline of confrontation, a way of acting when explanation fails. 'Skulls in the Stars' lingered with me not because of its monster, but because of its image of a man who keeps walking into darkness simply because turning back would feel like a deeper kind of surrender.
Most recommended.