A collection of strange or uncategorizable pieces for which the sea provides the great mystery; stories and poems which explore its pull on the human heart, its alienness, its treachery, its unfathomable vastness; and more than anything, what it makes humans do, be, become.
The package itself is gorgeous. An antique sea-trunk: lithographically printed, sewn hardback with coloured endpapers, wonderful illustrations from presumably archaic origins, even the typeset is elegance itself. A weighty book that was a pleasure to simply hold in the hand.
Alas, if only this high level of quality was sustained across all of the stories within! Still, there were five that captured and captivated me. Two of those five were admirable experiments, two more were entirely compelling experiences, and the fifth was a sad masterpiece. For those tales, and the remarkable physical product of the book itself, I am grateful.
Section I: Ligan
Ligan, lī′gan, n. goods sunk at sea, with a float attached for recovery.
Two strong stories within this section.
Stephen J. Clark's "The Figurehead of the Cailleach" tells an absorbing tale of a tradesman summoned to a lonely isle to restore an ancient statue, destined to be cast again and again into the sea, an offering. Clark has an idiosyncratic style: rather stiffly formal, decidedly neutral in tone, and most notably, a frequent use of run-on sentences. His prose creates emotional distance from the story and yet makes the reading of it rather hypnotic. I look forward to reading more by this author.
Karim Ghahwagi's "The Sorrows of Satan's Book" is an account of a film scholar and widower's 1932 visit to a Danish hamlet. The unknowable qualities of the sea, Midsummer songs and rituals, the grisly murder of a writer, the filmmaker Carl Dreyer, and the depths of grief all come into play. The writing is dry and reserved, which makes the hallucinatory sequence near the end all the more powerful. An oblique but ultimately impressive story.
This section also includes one poem and two more stories that were of little interest to me.
Section II: Flotsam
Flotsam, flätsəm, n. the wreckage of a ship or its cargo found floating on or washed up by the sea; people or things that have been rejected and are regarded as worthless.
One very strong story and one fascinatingly written story within this section.
Colin Insole's "Dancing Boy" relates the tragic life and sad fate of a PTSD-ridden young veteran, member of the Greatest Generation, newly arrived at a seaside village and intent on rebuilding a cursed boat - much to the secret derision of the villagers and his cooler-than-thou sister. This was a hard one to read; the spite and callous indifference ladled out by all of the cast towards the socially awkward, shell-shocked soldier was the true horror for me. A cruel story. Insole is an amazing artist: despite my discomfort and a slowly accumulating rage aimed at the characters and the narrative itself, I was kept spellbound by the very high level of writing.
Albert Power's "The Final Flight of Fidelia" describes the impact a very disturbing surprise guest from the sea has on those assembled together one dark and stormy night. The tale is like one written centuries ago, due to its successful deployment of archaic language, ponderous rhythm, tortured syntax, and iconic characters. The perfectly executed prose more than makes up for the hoariness of the actual story. Quite enjoyable.
This section also includes one poem and three more stories that, despite being atmospheric, held little interest for me.
Section III: Jetsam
Jetsam,ˈjet-səm, n. the part of a ship, its equipment, or its cargo that is cast overboard to lighten the load in time of distress and that sinks or is washed ashore
One intriguing story within this section.
Jonathan Wood's "From whence we came" has a melancholy artist living in his inherited manor, contemplating the sea and his uncle's watery suicide, and attempting to distill his feelings onto canvas. Although rather overwritten, this mood piece reminded me simultaneously of Poe at his most necromantic and Faulkner at his most self-indulgent (namely, the loooooong sentences of his river tale, "The Old Man"). Wood's story goes nowhere, and quite slowly at that, but I was often fascinated by the protagonist's meandering yet intense musings.
This section also includes one poem and three more stories; all of which were of only faint interest to this reader.
Section IV: Derelict
Derelict, der-ə-ˌlikt, n. Nautical. a vessel abandoned in open water by its crew without any hope or intention of returning.
This section contains one poem and four stories of scarce interest to me. Sigh.
I: Ligan 011 - "Others' Tears" by David Yates 013 - "Waiting" by Rosalie Parker 020 - "In The Hold, It Waits" by Tom Johnstone 047 - "The Figurehead of the Cailleach" by Stephen J. Clark 084 - "The Sorrows of Satan's Book" by Karim Ghahwagi
II: Flotsam 119 - "The Storm Brood" by Colin Fisher 121 - "By Severn's Flood" by Jane Jakeman 129 - "Breakwater Lodge" by Michael R. Colangelo 144 - "Dancing Boy" by Colin Insole 162 - "Below Decks" by Jonathan Eeds 178 - "The Final Flight of Fidelia" by Albert Power
III: Jetsam 215 - "Withernsea" by Martin Jones 218 - "Sailing to Trebizond" by S.A. Rennie 236 - "The Damnation of Captain M’Quhae" by Charles Schneider 254 - "From Whence We Came" by Jonathan Wood 278 - "Some Pages from the Journal of James Morris, Founder, Sable Island Humane Establishment, 1801" by Tim Foley
IV: Derelict 289 - "Cut Through with Skeins of Shallow Light" by Joseph Dawson 290 - "The Night They Came" by D.F. Lewis 293 - "The Woman from Malta" by George Berguño 302 - "The Lighthouse" by Richard Sheppard 317 - "The Woman Who Walked in to the Sea" by Steven Pirie
As Charles Schneider wrote in his story "The Damnation of Captain M'Quhae,"
"What begins as a standard sea-tale turns into something quite sinister."
But it goes deeper than simply sinister turns. While there is often more than just a bit of an aura of the traditional about and within these stories, the authors who have contributed to this anthology are some of the best weird fiction writers of the present day. This book is an excellent showcase of their extraordinary talent, not simply as storytellers but also as the perceptive artists these people are.
The blurb for this book states that it is
"A collection of strange or uncategorizable pieces for which the sea provides the great mystery; stories and poems which explore its pull on the human heart, its alienness, its treachery, its unfathomable vastness, and more than anything, what it makes humans do, be, become."
Given human nature, what humans "do, be, become" can cover a very wide range. But in Stephen J. Clark's "The Figurehead of the Cailleach" the author hits the nail on the head as to the heart and soul of this book when he writes that
"The sea transforms everything. Nothing that has touched by it can ever be the same again."
It is this phrase that kept repeating in my mind as I read -- in his or her own way, each author offers a story of lives that have been transformed in some fashion through their respective connections to the sea.
A quite wonderful collection of sea-related tales, all with a touch of the weird about them. Several are absolutely sublime.
It definitely deserves 5 stars and is a great read. It's not perfect, though. One story (I'll not name names) had me snorting in dismissal and thinking, "What was that all about? Was that supposed to mean something?" Fortunately, it was one of the shorter ones, but I just felt I had completely wasted my time reading it; it takes a lot for a story to irritate me this much. It wasn't subject matter (there wasn't a subject to matter!), it just seemed an utter waste of space.
And I have to be honest, I've read way better poetry than the few examples. But since they're brief, that's not a huge demerit.
In spite of these little faults, it would be churlish to deduct a star, since the remainder is sublime. If I was to pick a favourite, it would have to be 'The Figurehead of the Cailleach' by Stephen J. Clark.
This is where the Book of Sea truly permeates its tides into all our veins.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long or impractical to post here. Above is one of its observations at the time of the review?
A beautiful collection of haunting stories, from different authors. The book itself is exquisitely crafted, with fine artwork throughout. Nothing less than a collectible work of art.