A rundown apartment in Koreatown. A Los Angeles winter. A strung out, worn out, wrecked and used government agent is scraped up off the pavement, cleaned up, and reluctantly sent out into battle one last time.
Ellison Nicodemo has seen and done terrible things. She thought her only remaining quest was for oblivion. Then the Signalman comes calling. He wants to learn if she can stop the latest apocalypse. Ellison, once a unique and valuable asset, can barely remember why she ever fought the good fight.
Still, you don't say no to the Signalman, and the time has come to face her fears and the nightmare forces that almost destroyed her. Only Ellison can unleash the hound of Tindalos. . .
Caitlín Rebekah Kiernan is an Irish-born American published paleontologist and author of science fiction and dark fantasy works, including ten novels, series of comic books, and more than two hundred and fifty published short stories, novellas, and vignettes.
Want to look past the cover-ups, doublespeak, and obscurantism to find out what really happened at Roswell, New Mexico, on June 14, 1947, or learn the truth about Lee Harvey Oswald, the Philadelphia Experiment, and the Tunguska Explosion? Ever wondered what Bigfoot and Nessie eat for breakfast? If maybe the Pope shits in the woods? Then you’ve come to the right place.
I have given the Tinfoil Dossier trilogy a five-star rating across the board. ‘The Tindalos Asset’ may be the best one yet. I use ‘yet’ on purpose because I don’t think Caitlin R. Kiernan (let alone her readers) are done with this lurid, grimy, alien fluid smeared universe of hers. These short novels are absolute masterclasses in writing technique, characterisation, and world-building. Not to mention how to pay proper homage to something as familiar as the Cthulhu Mythos – by finding your own crack in its darkness and making it entirely your own. Breathtakingly superb.
There's something about Kiernan's writing that begs you to slow down to read it. Sure, their unconventional narrative style is part of it, but there's also the fact that there are a lot of details that are easy to miss if you try to rush through one of their books. I think that's part of the reason why I rated Black Helicopters lower than Agents of Dreamland, and now The Tindalos Asset; I wasn't taking my time to revel in the narrative.
Kiernan's style reminds me a bit of Tanith Lee, and a bit of Kathe Koja. It's lush, but it's also impressionistic. I don't mind either (the characteristics help to create atmosphere, and make for very showy reads), but I hadn't made that connection until reading this novella. Like the other books in this series, it's a blend of Lovecraft and noir, populated with a mix of outcast characters. The story is told in an out-of-order chronology, but is also told in a way that, once you get to the end of it, feels as if it were told in order. It's impressive.
So far, my only experience with Kiernan is through this series. Happily, this won't be the last I read of their work.
Before delving into the third, and ostensibly final part of what has come to be known (at least informally) as The Tinfoil Dossier, an important clarification needs to be made. Ms. Kiernan didn’t make it until the Author’s Note following the text of The Tindalos Asset, a fact which implies that reading order doesn’t matter a great deal, as far as the author is concerned, when ingesting the three parts of The Tinfoil Dossier (TTD). Indeed, the manner in which each chapter jumps about in time within a single book of TTD, can equally be applied across the three volumes of TTD. But as a reader, I am given to punctiliously following order of publication over a series’ chronology. All that preamble is over this small fact: although Agents of Dreamland (2017) was the first part of TTD to see publication under the TORDOTCOM imprint of Tor Publishing, Black Helicopters (2018) was the first part of TTD, written in 2012, and published by Subterranean Press in Beneath an Oil-Dark Sea (2015). Black Helicopters is expanded and revised.
The Tindalos Asset introduces a hungry readership to one Ellison Nicodemo, former assassin for that black ops agency referred to only as “Albany,” solely, it seems, because that is their base of operations. Currently a junkie attempting to flush what memory she retains down the toilet. Unfortunately for her (or fortunately, as the case may be), The Signalman is sitting on a chair in her broiling-hot apartment, come to pull her back into service, whether she is ready or not, one last time. As he puts it to her, “She’s come back...Jehosheba Talog’s come back.”
Kiernan uses jump-cuts back and forth in time to greatest effect in The Tindalos Asset, in order to clue the reader in to why Talog is more than just another high-value target. She was born for the sole purpose of ending humanity and bringing about the apocalypse, so that a certain entity that lies dreaming on the ocean floor may rise again. What could a junkie with her best fighting days behind her possibly have to offer in her second battle against such an implacable enemy? Well, she has this pet monster....
The Tindalos Asset is a novella, and as such, it falls within the perfect parameters of length for a horror story — or in this case, a pitch-dark fantasy. It was extremely difficult to put down so that a reader might be able to pursue other interests, like eating, or sleeping....
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
If you're here, you've probably already read the first two book in the Tinfoil Dossier. If you enjoyed those, you will certainly like this one which ties up the series in a grand way. Thankfully, the convoluted conspiracies and multiple characters of of Black Helicopters is toned down a bit, but the cosmic horrors are, if anything, ramped up a bit.
I liked this one but it overall confirmed my main issue with this series - too short! Kiernan builds up to so much and in the conclusion to this one everything just sort of...abruptly comes to a halt, with a lot of plot threads tied up as though the book's last stretch was written on a deadline. I've always liked Kiernan's books for the fact anyone can die at any time, the world they create feels properly dangerous and exciting, though that approach kind of didn't work for the ending here, when so many interesting threads and setpieces could have ended as they did just fine if only they had been expanded on further. Because those threads are really good, and the build up here is done very well This one is more of a popcorn book than the first two entries, and its timeline is essentially linear except for a few generally easy to parse chronological shifts, so this could be a reasonably good start to exploring Kiernan's aesthetic fixations. This book also contains a scene maybe in the top 3 of her hallucinatory cosmic horror moments, one that among pulp novels rivals Langan's in "The Fisherman". But I do really wish and hope this series could get at least one more entry - there's so many interesting things going on here, but so many of them explored marginally, which can be tantalizing and I understand is part of the point of Lovecraftian horror, but dammit, Kiernan is simply so good at it I want to see more of how this universe is built and how the characters within it operate! Thankfully, Kiernan's work as a whole is a treasure of modern dark fiction, so all of their works contribute to the greater mythos at play in one sense or other.
Fascinating read. Kind of hard to follow as it jumps around a lot, but after the first 2 books, this one pulls a lot of the storylines together and explains some things. A mesmerizing world the author has created.
My third time reading this book and it’s still the best modern example of Lovecraftian fiction out there. For lovers of cosmic horror, weird fiction and The X-Files.
The writing started exceptionally strong with this one. Still partially boiled but in a controlled, restrained, and mature way. But as it went along I got bored, which I would have thought impossible with this author. Perhaps it was being the third I’ve read in a short amount of time and the magic wore off. Perhaps it was that the plot was less challenging to follow than Agents of Dreamland, and far less than Black Helicopters, which you’d think would be a plus. Perhaps the myriad references to other works got tiresome, though the echo of munchkins in Oz really tickled me. Perhaps it was the odd and fast “resolution” and its equally fast take-back (yes, we were warned but it was so abrupt). Perhaps it just got too much like a serial with the alien/extradimensional invasion of the week. Perhaps I just couldn’t stop picturing Keanu as the Signalman (which would be way cool), meaning it comes off as overly cinematic.
So, four stars for some of the writing and two for plot and so forth.
In any case, this author is so talented and I will likely read more next time I’m in the mood for weird.
By far my favorite book in the Tinfoil Dossier series! The story was so engaging, and I liked seeing how Kiernan wraps things up. Even though at times in the first two books I barely understood what was happening, in this one I had no trouble. I'm happy I decided to finish this little series after reading book 1 with HOWL Society. I think this is a series I'd consider re-reading one day - there was a lot going on!
The Tindalos Asset is the 3rd and final book in the intriguing Tinfoil Dossier trilogy by Caitlín R. Kiernan. It's a time hopping and location hopping story that moves from 2017 to 1957 etc and between locations with head spinning regularity. In the first story we met The Signalman, a government agent and he makes his appearance again in this story.
The Signalman and fellow agent Mackenzie Regan are sent to find Ellison Nicodemus, a woman who they used before to try to destroy the Siren, the woman who seems to be trying to recall Mother Hydra to destroy the world. She's caused weird things to happen, a whale being found on a Philadelphia freeway, women birthing strange creatures.
In another incident, in an earlier time, the Signalman and Mackenzie show up at a warehouse in Atlanta, where the find a great white shark suspended from the ceiling and a woman sewn.... Well, why spoil the fun for you... (and yes, I am writing in English for this review)
The Signalman and Mackenzie were sent sometime after the incident above to find Ellison, and discover she's drugged out, spaced out and hiding in a small apartment. But they persuade her to help them destroy the Siren (Jehosheba Talog).
It's a strange, page turning story and I guess it ends satisfactorily... well, until 2151 maybe... I can't adequately describe this trilogy but suffice it to say, it's wild and neat. (3.5 stars)
Thanks to Netgalley for providing a copy of this book for review.
This is the most conventional book in the Tinfoil Dossier series (I do love that series name). It's fairly linear and you're usually pretty sure which character's POV you're in. The basic frame is the old "washed up pro has to come back for one more mission". In this case the old pro is Ellison Nicodemo and they are being asked by the Signalman to confront the magnificently named Jehosheba (seriously, this may be my favorite name ever) Talog, who is an old nemesis of Nicodemo's.
Jehosheba is a wonderful Bondesque villain and she's got a backstory that features the Lovecraftian Deep Ones. I'm not quite sure why she's returned for Nicodemo, but she has, and Jehosheba's first move leads to a wonderfully horrible and tragic set piece.
Nicodemo, on the other hand, just wants to fade away. They were SEWN INTO A SHARK ALL ALONG THE OUTER SILHOUETTE OF THEIR BODY and have scars like zippers all up and down their outer arms, legs, etc. You can imagine that this would change a person.
Nicodemo is the one for this desperate mission because they hold the Tindalos Asset. You can look the visual for that up online if you want- I had to because I couldn't picture it.
This book feels like a bit of a callback to The Drowning Girl. There are similar themes of a slimy, pelagic yet somehow sexy siren, even a bit of werewolf. I'm not sure I loved the end of the Signalman's story here, but who knows? There might be more.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This is the third book in what the author calls the Tinfoil Dossier sequence. The first is Black Helicopters (which I haven't read) and the second is Agents of Dreamland, which I gave a 5-star rating. The latter was good enough that I approached this with high anticipation, and unfortunately it didn't measure up.
The structure is similar, with the non-linear narrative and some shared characters, but this book didn't flow as easily as the previous one did. That's possibly because the time jumps were broader in this story--in the previous one they were days, which didn't seem to affect the overall storyline much. These time shifts just felt abrupt and clunky. The narrative in this book also wasn't as coherent, and the it could have used a great deal more of Ellison Nicodemo than we actually received. Also, Chapter 5 is one....long....paragraph, which drove me nuts. That could have been chopped out and I wouldn't have missed it.
This book does boast the author's usual dense, layered writing, and it does start and end strong. It's the stuff in between that isn't so great. If you want to reread a book in this series, go for Agents of Dreamland. That won't disappoint.
In the concluding volume of the Tinfoil Dossier we finally return to some of the elements that I found more compelling in the first volume compared to the second. The mix of espionage and Lovecraft remains high and there are some truly horrifying moments in this one. It involves a great white shark and sewing thread....it was wild. Anyways, the quality of the writing continues to be impressive and the pacing is pitch perfect.
It seems that the author may be finished with this series as the baton is passed from one character to another and nothing seems to be announced. I hope not as this is a specific sub genre I enjoy; however, Kiernan has a loyal fan now and I'll certainly be following their work in the future.
In reviewing this I'm really reviewing the three novella trilogy. The end of an amazing reading experience. Each of the novellas was frustratingly way too short and taken together it's hard not to see them as the notes for the greatest SciFi novel never written. Sadder still is that Kiernan makes it clear that this is the end of the Signalman possible world and her intention to return to her day job as a marine palaeontologist.
Here it is the third installment on the series. How is this horror, lovecraftian horor for that matter? It took Caitlin a couple of years to release this novel and it shows... it's convuluted, confusing timelines and very strange characters. I didn't enjoy at all, even comparing with the previous 2 (and bear in mind all are bad..)
Dense, lyrical, and bizarre, this book is a decent ending to the Tinfoil Dossier series, though it didn't thrill me like the other two books did. If I had to describe this book in one word, it would be "weird."
What I liked writing style The writing is multilayered and complex. In particular, I enjoyed chapter 6 "The Lady And The Tiger Go To Hell," a letter written in 1957 by one Ysabeau to her girlfriend Ruth. Ysabeau meets the sinister Dr Adelie Marquardt and confronts a mysterious jade artifact.
This novella's writing style was more straightforward than others in the series. I missed the streams of consciousness, but I appreciated that the narrative was also less convoluted and easier to follow. This story definitely feels more coherent than the other two in the series.
non-linearity and non-reality This story, like the others in the series, is wonderfully non-linear. In addition to the 1957 letter, there's also a chapter a hundred years in the future. It bounces all over the place, each time revealing something different.
One of my favorite things about this series is how reality is mixed with fantasy. It produces an interesting dream-like and off-kilter effect. Reading some of the real-world references, it is easy to be confused over where reality ends and fantasy begins. For me, the best example of this occurred with fake movie The Star Maiden in Agents of Dreamland, but this book also had some interesting moments of non-reality. The many references to real-world obscure history woven into the narrative add to the dream-like feeling.
certain plot elements One of my favorite tropes is the Lovecraftian cult. We get hints of that here, particularly in chapter 6, but also in the fascinating anecdote the Signalman shares about the neo-Nazi cult.
What I was ambivalent about
Although I enjoyed the shadowy pseudo-historical references, sometimes it just felt too much. For example, "that Fermi and his Project Y goons had inadvertently called up these critters that can only reach us through angles." I also can't say I enjoyed the references to recent real-world politicians such as Donald Trump.
At times, the density felt pretentious. For example, chapter 5 is one long paragraph. That's ridiculous. It could have been chopped up for readability's sake. As it is, I skipped a lot of it.
What I did NOT like kind of boring at times A lot of the more interesting stuff happens off-screen. For example, the Signalman tells an off-handed statement about Ellison's assignment in Babelsberg. There, she had to fight a neo-Nazi cult. They were described as a "latter-day offshoot of the Thule-Gesellschaft calling themselves Schwarze Sonne" [page 118]. They were looking for Hyperborea, and unless I misread, they needed a human sacrifice. To that end, they had kidnapped a girl, and it was up to Ellison to save her. Thule-Gesellschaft - the Thule Society - was a real organization, which makes this pseudo-history all the more fascinating. I would have loved to have seen this from Ellison's perspective.
The eponymous Tindalos hound does not make much of an appearance in this story. What a shame: the monster had the possibility of being an intriguing character. Many questions about the Hound remain unanswered. Mainly,
sexuality There's a lot of predatory and evil lesbians in this story. But worse was the creepy sexualization of a person who seems to be written as a child.
In chapter 8, we meet the girl Abishag Talog. Although her age is never stated, she appears to be child because:
- She lives with her mother and can't take care of herself. - She is described in a way that makes her sound very young. For example, besides being repeatedly referred to as a "girl," she asks the "dark man" to tell her a story before he leaves.
The dark man was tasked with helping her survive. Abishag thought he was her father when she first met him. He comes around to help her acquire food and things like books after her mother died. Her real father had asked him to take care of her. This is their conversation leading up to what was for me a really grotesque turn of events:
She asks if her mother running away meant she didn't care about her and the dark man says, "I can't answer that. But if she didn't, she was a fool. Did she ever say she loved you?"
The girl replies no, but her mother was never cruel, to which he then says, "It wasn't cruel to leave you, the way she did?"
"Maybe she knew that you would come, that my father would send you to keep me safe, to keep me from starving."
"No, she didn't know that."
"Then maybe she thought my father would come for me himself."
The dark man shakes his head, and tells the girl, "No, she knew that your father had dealings elsewhere, business that left him with no time to look after her daughter, even if he'd had the inclination."
The girl is obviously disappointed and hurt by this. Behind the spoiler: discussion of child abuse. Authors can write about whatever they want, but I don't see how this happening to a child adds anything to the story.
Conclusion Ambiguous and creepy, this series has many great elements and images. At the best of times, it manages to craft a perfect Lovecraftian atmosphere. At other times, though, it devolves into incoherence and meaninglessness. If you like dense, strange stories and love prose more than plot, you may enjoy this series. Heads up for gore, domestic violence, and mentions of sexualized violence.
The final book of the Tinfoil Dossier is honestly pretty terrible. The first was the breeziest and most enjoyable; a real flight of the imagination and literary pyrotechnics. The second was the best, being like a latter-day version of a sprawling 70s postmodern science fiction epic. Both were pretty self-contained but hinted at bigger things. But this is just a mess. Here the narrative fragmentation is taken to an ultimate extreme, and aside from a couple really creepy passages nothing much of note actually happens. It's just boring. And to add insult to injury, Kiernan felt the need to get "political", which mostly consists of "Orange Man Bad/Fat Nuclear Koreans/COVID Truthers haha" jokes. To write really good weird fiction the author has to be a true believer. Thomas Ligotti's ouvre works because he really is a deeply depress anhedonic anti-natalist nihilist. Philip K. Dick worked because he was actually schizophrenic and exacerbating it with habitual amphetamine use. These authors believe in the worlds they create. Kiernan doesn't. She's just role-playing. So when push comes to shove there's always an element of inauthenticity in even her best work. For a series about shadow governments and paranormal conspiracies, there's a level of contempt for the actual concepts. This was enough to turn me off acquiring anymore of her work until I read what I have. I suspect COVID and Trump broke her liberal brain, and she hit the wall during it, judging by her social media.
It's funny, I don't like Lovecraft's writing all that much. But his concepts are a different story. So many talented writers have taken his world and lived in it for us. Tindalos is a great example. It has tidal waves of salt water in strange places, webbed feet on bipedal creatures and deadly MiB. It also had stellar writing, cool settings and strong characters that kept me entranced to the end.
Also - She better write a follow-up to this. She just can't leave that last chapter/epilogue just hanging like that. Like ... no. No way.
I am conflicted in my assessment of this book. As with the second book of this series - Black Helicopters (Tinfoil Dossier #2) - I liked Kiernan's writing. She presents her story with ambiguity and vagueness that engaged me in trying to decode what was going on. She crafts some solid Lovecraftian language interlaced with spy jargon.
But does any of it have any meaning? I couldn't tell.
In this case, the Signalman reactiviates a broken asset, a young woman who had a horrific experience in a failed assignment and is attempting to erase her memory with drugs. The reason for her reactivation is that the end of the world is nigh as the target from her failed assignment seems intent on awakening Cthulhu.
Kiernan's style is not to present anything so straighforwardly as that. The narrative is chopped up into around 20 chapters which bounce around from the perspective of different characters over the course of nearly 100 years. (There is one chapter set in 2040.) Kiernan drops clues into the chapters, but the plot problem and resolution do develop over the course of the book.
One problem that I had with the book is that there seems to be a backstory I want to know about. The Signalman belongs to an organization referred to as "Albany" which is where its headquarters is located. It seems to be a very shadowy governmental agency dealing with supernatural threats. In this book, and in the prior books, there are references to other supernatural organizations (e.g., "the Julia Set") that are opposed to Albany, but we have only the vaguest sense of what they stand for. Likewise there are references to Fata Morgana phenomenon, the "oceanic pole of inaccessiblity," and how "that Fermi and his Project Y goons had inadvertently called up, these critters that can only reach us through angles."
Two of those are real things.
I'll admit I love the weaving of obscure knowledge with pseudo-history. So, I'm pretty much a sucker for this kind of thing.
I also like looking up things. Because I am not a Lovecraft aficionado, until I looked it up on a hunch, I did not know that the "hounds of Tindalos" was a monster deriving from Frank Belknap Long's 1929 story "The Hounds of Tindalos." Now, that I do, and a cursory overview of the story, I think I have a greater appreciation for this story. Perhaps more information should have been shared in this story about that subject, but, hey!, the premise of the story is that Dagon, Deep Ones, and Cthulhu are real, so why should this datum get treated differently?
So, I think I come down on the side of liking the story for its Lovecraft-Meets-LeCarre quality. If you are unwilling to live with obscure references and hidden plot points, this might not be your cup of tea.
The final book in the trilogy, I think at this point the reader knows what they are getting in for (and are back for more). A modern (nonracist) take on Lovecraftian myths, a 21st century Men in Black type organization that exists alongside the FBI and CIA to deal with cosmic horrors, grizzled, world-weary, seemingly bitter but actually Philip Marlowe-esque veterans, a fractured, nonlinear storyline that goes back into the past and also the far (climate changed) future, and cosmic horrors threatening the world. All of those elements are here in this book (though nothing can quite manage the jumping around and extreme fracture of the second installment in the series, _Black Helicopters_, this book as a result is a lot easier to follow though).
In a nutshell, the Signalman goes to a hovel-like apartment in Koreatown, Los Angeles, seeking a washed out, drugged up, alcoholic, malnourished agent named Ellison Joanne Nicodemo. Against Signalman’s better judgement (something he feels free sharing with Ellison multiple times), the higher ups deem it is essential that she be brought back into active duty in order to save the world. Ellison and Signalman have a history together (“what happened in Atlanta,” which the reader does learn about), we meet a new agent named Mackenzie Regan (a bit underdeveloped I thought but I did like her perspective a lot), there is a great need for Ellison because higher ups “don’t know how to put back to sleep or banish to whatever shithole banana republic dimension” the new horror threatening the world was called from without her, we get a proper monologuing almost James Bond-villain-esque major baddie called Jehosheba, Cthulhu is part of the story, at one point there are Mesozoic fauna, with _The Tindalos Asset_ calling up elements from Lovecraft’s _The Shadow Over Innsmouth_, “Dagon,” and “The Call of Cthulhu” and Frank Belknap Long’s 1929 short story “The Hounds of Tindalos;” we get everything. I do wish the book was a bit longer, allowing some of the elements to breathe a bit more, but I guess leave the readers wanting more, eh? Descriptions were vivid, whether Ellison’s squalid apartment or of the Lovecraftian statue that plays a part throughout the book or of the lovingly described marine fauna that makes cameos throughout the book (clearly the author did some research on marine biology including paleontology - edited: I have since read the author is a published paleontologist, among other feats codescribing a new genus and species of mosasaur and a new Mesozoic fossil marine turtle!). I liked it, a good end to the series. I liked how the book handled cults, it was a good take on Lovecraftian cults, and again, adored the lovingly detailed marine fauna.
I would have enjoyed this novel-sold-as-three-novellas much more as a single novel, instead of via the “installment method”, hopefully with significantly more detail and plot and less dialogue to boot. But author’s choice, right? Like the first two books, there are many things I loved in this book if taken as separate entities, and an equal number of things I hated. Kiernan can write with aplomb - at times too much of it - and her use of multiple styles is dizzying and awkward, though the timeline shifts (which coincided with the styles) didn’t bother me as much as their (lack of) length (more on that later). She definitely knows her Lovecraft-Cthulhu mythos rather extensively. Still I have access to the interweb too, so that aspect becomes more of an expectation of “does it well” than a bonus or surprise. Kiernan is no Langan or Barron, but they are masters of the genre, and she more than holds her own here. One major pet peeve was the droning overuse of references to name brands of food, beverages, alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, bands, artists, etc. Reminded me of Elizabeth Hand, who seems to have substituted this shit for plot. Here it is just stupid and comes across as performative-author verbiage, since if you are smoking (or whatever-ing) what brand is superfluous, right? But Kiernan has her own substitution fault: shitty, pointless dialogue masquerading as plot development. I am never much of a fan of dialogue, ever, it reads poorly (or writers write it poorly…) and here it is quite annoying, and pervasive. Hated it. On the plus side, I like how Kiernan shifts from present to future to past (or whenever to whenever), adding details that helped what you already read, or dropping hints that expand later. Quite amazing and fun. But often these are too brief, and the change in style can be an unwelcome adjustment in such a short novel. I find Kiernan to be a fascinating author to read, her books are full of ideas and energy and smart shit, but there is often too much crammed in, and the same thing happened here. I guess I wanted more explanations and more story, which is a plus for the author, though maybe not for this book? There is a lot to hold on to from the first two books, which is why I would have preferred this Cthulhu-Noir in a single volume. I am lazy, it seems. So, an rollicking read, if a bit too much and not enough, if that makes sense.
This is a fine take on modernizing Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, as are the earlier installments of The Tinfoil Dossier. This review will cover general impressions of the three books. When it comes to modern Lovecraftian horror, The Laundry Files add droll English humor. Monster Hunter International adds guns and gore. The Tinfoil Dossier plays its existential terror straight and true. Kiernan honors the stories of the mythos by incorporating their horrors as a barely fictionalized secret history. The effect is one of transclusion that pulls in just enough of the mythos to establish continuity without encumbering the story with the stylistic baggage of the Arkham canon. Kiernan frames the overall narrative as a shadow war between occult intelligence agencies and the horrors of the Outer Dark. Our protagonists are weary, scarred veterans who medicate themselves with drugs and alcohol to press on with their grim work. They are figuratively, and in some cases literally, the men and women in black who investigate Fortean phenomenon, fight the monsters and minions, and keep us blissfully ignorant of how hostile and dangerous the universe truly is. There are whisperers in the darkness, shoggoths, benthic gods, and hounds of Tindalos, but the antagonists of interest are the people who serve them. The Tinfoil Dossier won’t work for everyone. The characters are either entrenched in emotional fortresses or detached from humanity. They are interesting to watch, but don’t invite connection. The Dossier reads like highlights from a larger narrative and jumps around in time. (The print editions may make it easier to flip back and forth to stich together the events.) If you are willing to accept the distance and work the timeline, a chilling story emerges.
A return to form now that the Signalman is back on the scene, I really enjoyed this one. I think it's my favorite of the three novellas by a stretch. It continues with the time jumps and shifting p.o.v.'s of the previous volumes, but works much better, and does a better job of connecting the different threads of the story, as well as connecting the story itself to the other two novellas, all of then dealing with a Mythosian apocaplypse of one kind or another since it seems, based on the Signalman's own words, this kind of thing takes place and is prevented without the general population even knowing about it pretty much all of the fucking time.
Modern Mythosian tales are an interesting artifact because of the myriad influences and genre conventions they incorporate, especially from other often totally unrelated genres or even media, and the author is certainly very skilled at this, as well as at working with the basic building blocks of the Lovecraftian story itself. I especially got a kick out of how at one point one of the characters is being debriefed after a plane crash and her mind keeps wandering in a sort of free-association daze centered on the color black, and she quotes a line from the lyrics of a Pearl Jam song.
I think I'll try one of the authors full novels now.
“The Tindalos Asset” is the third entry in Caitlín R. Kiernan’s “Tinfoil Dossier” series. These novellas pit secret government agents against Lovecraftian horrors and their cultist who seek to bring about the end of the world.
This novella is a bit more straightforward than the previous volume, “Black Helicopters.” However, it does tend to jump around in time, so the reader is advised to pay close attention to the dates given at the beginning of each chapter. Even so, I found the narrative easier to follow.
This novella also features the return of the Signalman, the agent from “Dreamland” that was featured in the first novella. It also introduces us to Ellison Nicodemo, former agent, currently a junkie, who is being called back for one more mission.
These two washed-up and wrung out individuals set out to stop a woman who has been born and raised to be the high priestess of Mother Hydra. Can they do so before she wakes things that are best left sleeping?
Like the last two novellas, “The Tindalos Asset”, gives the reader a horrific and gritty look into the world of the cultist and those who seek to oppose them. I’m unsure if this is the final volume in this series of stories, but I hope there might be more files added to the Tinfoil Dossiers in the future.
The latest document in the the dossier is satisfying, well-crafted and tantalizing. Kiernan always leaves us wanting more of her world-weary characters. They are deeply grounded and (mostly) human, which allows us to leap off strange cliffs into murky water, while holding a thread of decency. I came to this with some knowledge of Lovecraft, but I hadn't read Long. When I was finished I read The Hounds of Tindalos and many aspects of the series fell into place.
"Time and motion are both illusions. Everything that has existed from the beginning of the world exists now. Events that occurred centuries ago on this planet continue to exist in another dimension of space. Events that will occur centuries from now exist already. We cannot perceive their existence because we cannot enter the dimension of space that contains them. Human beings as we know them are merely fractions, infinitesimally small fractions of one enormous whole. " From The Hounds of Tindalos by Frank Belknap Long
The novella makes sense on its own merits, but when read in conjunction with the story of the hounds, it clicks into place as a perfect new extension of the Lovecraft legacy. It tells us not not just what lies beneath, in the past, but what it means to us as we struggle into the future.
The three books that make up the Tinfoil Dossier are quite possibly the best take on the Cthulhu mythos I've read in a long time. It ranks alongside Neil Gaiman's A Study in Emerald in sheer genius.
It's not an easy read. None of the three books (Agents of Dreamland, Black Helicopters or The Tindalos Asset) are quick-and-fun, nowhere close. They jump around in time and in writing style. The overall effect, however, is similar to Jeff Vandermeer's Southern Reach trilogy.
I am going to read through the trilogy again and again in the coming years, as I do with The Southern Reach, just to try to grasp the sheer talent that Caitlín Kiernen puts on display here.
I may put together something more intelligent in the weeks to come. Right now I am trying not to despair in the presence of such genius.
Snappy dialogue and great narratorial voice. Nice use of allusion. There's a bit of humour to speed things along, but the book is primarily focused on being spooky -- effective balance between explaining enough and leaving some ends loose. My main criticism of this book is the structure. The first third of the book reads like a novel in the density of the detail and the world building, but then there's no real narrative arc. There are many events and within each one suspense is well maintained; however, there is no real sense of action building from scene to scene. Perhaps this is a novella problem, or perhaps it would be better to see the three parts of the trilogy as one unified novel.