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The Peninsula
A Trick of the Shadow
R. Ostermeier lives and works on the peninsula. This first collection of strange tales draws predominantly on the region’s folklore and history, yet also includes first-hand accounts of contemporary disquiet.
A Trick of the Shadow contains the extraordinarily unnerving ‘Object’ and the disturbing, Arthur Machen-inspired ‘A Tantony Pig’, as well as the novella ‘Bird-hags’, which in all truth might not be for you.
“I found myself thinking of these unsettling stories long after I’d finished reading them. Subtle, strange and filled with unease, the tales in A Trick of the Shadow got into my dreams.” – Ben Mee, author of Gloom Circus
A Trick of the Shadow contains the extraordinarily unnerving ‘Object’ and the disturbing, Arthur Machen-inspired ‘A Tantony Pig’, as well as the novella ‘Bird-hags’, which in all truth might not be for you.
“I found myself thinking of these unsettling stories long after I’d finished reading them. Subtle, strange and filled with unease, the tales in A Trick of the Shadow got into my dreams.” – Ben Mee, author of Gloom Circus
210 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2020
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October 1, 2021
My unfiltered reaction on finishing it was this: holy shit. In a good way.
full post here:
http://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/2021...
please note: Anyone considering the possibility of reading this book should go and get a copy now. Mine is 163/200 so I don't know how many copies the publisher still has.
Thanks to some of my like-minded friends here at goodreads, I discovered Broodcomb Press last month, and after seeing the rave ratings for R. Ostermeier's A Trick of the Shadow, I picked up a copy. As soon as I'd finished that one, I went back and picked up three more books and just this morning added a fourth. I'm not generally a bulk buyer like that, but after reading this book and the author's Upmorchard, I knew I had to have more. All of the stories in A Trick of the Shadow take place at a location known only as "The Peninsula," which in the first tale, "The Tantony Pig," is described as "a place that put the notion of ordinariness in doubt." As I read through the rest of the tales in this volume, that particular description became somewhat of an understatement, as what goes on in this place often defies any attempt at rational explanation. As the dustjacket blurb notes, this collection of stories
"draws predominantly on the region's folklore and history, yet also includes first-hand accounts of contemporary disquiet."
In short, it's my kind of book.
As just a brief appetite whetter, " A Tantony Pig" dives right into weirdsville with a story that Ostermeier notes was inspired by Machen's short story "The Ritual," which the author says was "filtered through watching the version in Julian Butler and Mark Goodall's Holy Terrors." [As an aside, I immediately looked for and found a copy of Holy Terrors on ebay and am eagerly awaiting its arrival in just four days if all goes well.] The narrator of this story had been to the Peninsula earlier while "researching the links between psychogeography and conversion disorders in closed communities;" he's back now after his supervisor, a certain Professor Barlik, became concerned for his student's mental health. [As another aside, Barlik ("Barley") will feature prominently in Ostermeier's next book, Upmorchard, but more on that later.] Barlik tells him of a "coven of boys" in the small coastal village of Annesdock who at "certain times of the year" play a game at dusk "for occult reasons" and then "disperse," vanishing "into the mist" if anyone comes near. As the narrator will later say, this village "spooked" him, having experienced "an event ordinary and known" which turned sinister when the shadows lengthened." Debt to Machen acknowledged, "A Tantony Pig" is the perfect start for the rest of this brilliant collection.
Considering I had absolutely no idea that either this book or this publisher even existed, I feel incredibly lucky to have discovered both. A Trick of the Shadow is for me the new standard of "weird," meaning that with this book the bar has certainly been raised in terms of any modern weird fiction I will read in the future. I would read a story and then just sit and think about it for a very long time; I had to switch from reading this in late-night quiet to brightest day because all of the thinking was keeping me awake. It just wouldn't let go. The influences of other writers can certainly be felt in this volume, but this is truly an original collection that once read, will never be forgotten. An amazing effort, and a book I more than highly recommend. I loved it.
full post here:
http://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/2021...
please note: Anyone considering the possibility of reading this book should go and get a copy now. Mine is 163/200 so I don't know how many copies the publisher still has.
Thanks to some of my like-minded friends here at goodreads, I discovered Broodcomb Press last month, and after seeing the rave ratings for R. Ostermeier's A Trick of the Shadow, I picked up a copy. As soon as I'd finished that one, I went back and picked up three more books and just this morning added a fourth. I'm not generally a bulk buyer like that, but after reading this book and the author's Upmorchard, I knew I had to have more. All of the stories in A Trick of the Shadow take place at a location known only as "The Peninsula," which in the first tale, "The Tantony Pig," is described as "a place that put the notion of ordinariness in doubt." As I read through the rest of the tales in this volume, that particular description became somewhat of an understatement, as what goes on in this place often defies any attempt at rational explanation. As the dustjacket blurb notes, this collection of stories
"draws predominantly on the region's folklore and history, yet also includes first-hand accounts of contemporary disquiet."
In short, it's my kind of book.
As just a brief appetite whetter, " A Tantony Pig" dives right into weirdsville with a story that Ostermeier notes was inspired by Machen's short story "The Ritual," which the author says was "filtered through watching the version in Julian Butler and Mark Goodall's Holy Terrors." [As an aside, I immediately looked for and found a copy of Holy Terrors on ebay and am eagerly awaiting its arrival in just four days if all goes well.] The narrator of this story had been to the Peninsula earlier while "researching the links between psychogeography and conversion disorders in closed communities;" he's back now after his supervisor, a certain Professor Barlik, became concerned for his student's mental health. [As another aside, Barlik ("Barley") will feature prominently in Ostermeier's next book, Upmorchard, but more on that later.] Barlik tells him of a "coven of boys" in the small coastal village of Annesdock who at "certain times of the year" play a game at dusk "for occult reasons" and then "disperse," vanishing "into the mist" if anyone comes near. As the narrator will later say, this village "spooked" him, having experienced "an event ordinary and known" which turned sinister when the shadows lengthened." Debt to Machen acknowledged, "A Tantony Pig" is the perfect start for the rest of this brilliant collection.
Considering I had absolutely no idea that either this book or this publisher even existed, I feel incredibly lucky to have discovered both. A Trick of the Shadow is for me the new standard of "weird," meaning that with this book the bar has certainly been raised in terms of any modern weird fiction I will read in the future. I would read a story and then just sit and think about it for a very long time; I had to switch from reading this in late-night quiet to brightest day because all of the thinking was keeping me awake. It just wouldn't let go. The influences of other writers can certainly be felt in this volume, but this is truly an original collection that once read, will never be forgotten. An amazing effort, and a book I more than highly recommend. I loved it.
January 5, 2021
It is always something of a thrill to think (rightly or wrongly) that you are one of the first to ‘spot’ a great new author and are thus part of a little select club, which of course you hope will grow bigger as you tell everyone about your new ‘find’. Sometimes you are a bit late to the party; I didn't discover Ligotti until the late 1980s, but I do like to think I was near the front when I first read Reggie Oliver’s ‘The Dreams of Cardinal Vittorini’ (Haunted River) and Colin Insole’s ‘Oblivion’s Poppy’ (Ex-Occidente). These latter authors seemed to spring from nowhere, fully formed in ability and style and bring something new to the genre. I am going to stick my neck out and say that 'A Trick Of The Shadow' is to the same standard.
R. Ostermeier and publisher Broodcomb Press are new to me, but both occupy a territory they call ‘The Peninsular’ which lives up to its suggested insular(ity) by seeming to be a location both familiar and yet skewed. If Ramsey Campbell takes the city and exposes its hidden underbelly, or Ligotti a run-down light-industrial satellite town, Ostermeier and Co. seem to occupy a region of villages and market towns - the type of place where time might have stood still a little and modern services a little hard to access. Perhaps like Gloucester, with its 11th-century Cathedral, an Inland Waterways Museum and (until caught) Fred and Rose West. The type of place where the untoward could happen. Perhaps it is more accurately put in the Ostermeier’s story ’Object’, when Robert, the reviewer of the performance ‘A Circus Mirror’, states that “The point of the play is that realities and accountabilities change according to who inhabit them”.
Two tales of power and its abuse are set around a specific building, ‘Mosk House’, which was a mansion previously owned by the Moskovitch family. By the time Wolfgang Eck undergoes his treatment for his weight problem in ‘The Intruder,’ the large building has been repurposed, subdivided, and sublet to various underfunded, overstretched (outsourced?) ’service providers’ who provide ‘tick box’ counselling services and spaces for things such as yoga groups and keep fit classes. Ostermeier captures the institutionalized and run-down atmosphere very well, and the reader is not surprised that some unconventional treatments might be offered. Eck opts for the ‘organic’ as opposed to the gastric band method of controlling his weight; the ‘pentamanipulable elastor-based constrictor’ he has fitted (after signing a rather enigmatically worded contract) works very well but, as he discovers, it is decidedly unorthodox and unethical. Lovers of early David Cronenburg films or Dan Watt will enjoy this a lot.
‘Bird Hags’ is also set at Mosk Hall but seemingly a generation or two earlier, perhaps post WWI. It is still owned (or at least run) by a Moskovitch and we learn that the building was (perhaps) never a dwelling at all, but rather some sort of private hospital, an ’asylum, refuge, and rehabilitation centre and [which] now… also housed a sleep clinic’. The narrator becomes a boarder there in order to exorcise his night-terrors settles into the institutionalised regime where he is closely observed by Moskovitch and regularly hypnotised by him to allow the dream “to breathe”. There is an air of melancholy and uneasiness in the building which supposedly has an attic space of cells and haunted by the ghosts of “wandering maddies”. The narrator loosely befriends Moskovitch’s daughter who is ignored by her father but can obtain access many (rightly as it turns out) forbidden areas of the building.
If the town's institutions seem tainted, the countryside liminal territory with folk-horror never far from the surface. In ‘Finery’ Elena Frankik is both a fortune teller and ‘the seller-of-woven-things’. This story is perhaps inspired by the saying “clothes maketh the man” in that for those who have the right attitude (and are able to pay the price) some of Frankik’s garments might choose the wearer in a kind of act of sympathetic magic or initiation. The choosing (and the wearing) are revealing.
More ‘traditional’ horror is to be found in ’The Bearing’ in which an ‘outsider’ (ie from a nearby village) is begrudgingly allowed to participate in a village custom similar to that of, say, the Allendale Tar Bar’l or Queensferry’s Burryman. But ‘bearing’ has a number of meanings as the narrator discovers to his mental and physical discomfort. ‘A Tantony Pig’ is overtly based on Machen’s ‘The Happy Children’ but Ostermeier removes the dated war-time aspects and re-weaves the remaining material which concerns childhood ritual to bring the story to a very satisfactory contemporary conclusion.
In ‘The Chair’, the new owners of a cottage discover a tiny secret room, shaped and dimpled like a golf ball and covered in meaningless writing. It would seem to only accessible by a child and the only item of furniture in it is a small bed. Who built it and what would one do in/with such a room? Ostermeier slowly turns the tables on the reader as one realises what the writings might mean.
I really liked everything about this volume. Each (and every!) tale is an excellent stand-alone in its own right, but by setting them on ‘the Peninsular’ these elements are combined and re-enforced to create a single very powerful whole, similar to that of Lovecraft’s Arkham County. It is a stunning debut volume, nicely presented as an affordable paperback (limited numbered edition of 250) with French flaps. I immediately re-read it (even better second time out!) and purchased another copy to gift to a friend. What more can I say? This is an essential purchase.
R. Ostermeier and publisher Broodcomb Press are new to me, but both occupy a territory they call ‘The Peninsular’ which lives up to its suggested insular(ity) by seeming to be a location both familiar and yet skewed. If Ramsey Campbell takes the city and exposes its hidden underbelly, or Ligotti a run-down light-industrial satellite town, Ostermeier and Co. seem to occupy a region of villages and market towns - the type of place where time might have stood still a little and modern services a little hard to access. Perhaps like Gloucester, with its 11th-century Cathedral, an Inland Waterways Museum and (until caught) Fred and Rose West. The type of place where the untoward could happen. Perhaps it is more accurately put in the Ostermeier’s story ’Object’, when Robert, the reviewer of the performance ‘A Circus Mirror’, states that “The point of the play is that realities and accountabilities change according to who inhabit them”.
Two tales of power and its abuse are set around a specific building, ‘Mosk House’, which was a mansion previously owned by the Moskovitch family. By the time Wolfgang Eck undergoes his treatment for his weight problem in ‘The Intruder,’ the large building has been repurposed, subdivided, and sublet to various underfunded, overstretched (outsourced?) ’service providers’ who provide ‘tick box’ counselling services and spaces for things such as yoga groups and keep fit classes. Ostermeier captures the institutionalized and run-down atmosphere very well, and the reader is not surprised that some unconventional treatments might be offered. Eck opts for the ‘organic’ as opposed to the gastric band method of controlling his weight; the ‘pentamanipulable elastor-based constrictor’ he has fitted (after signing a rather enigmatically worded contract) works very well but, as he discovers, it is decidedly unorthodox and unethical. Lovers of early David Cronenburg films or Dan Watt will enjoy this a lot.
‘Bird Hags’ is also set at Mosk Hall but seemingly a generation or two earlier, perhaps post WWI. It is still owned (or at least run) by a Moskovitch and we learn that the building was (perhaps) never a dwelling at all, but rather some sort of private hospital, an ’asylum, refuge, and rehabilitation centre and [which] now… also housed a sleep clinic’. The narrator becomes a boarder there in order to exorcise his night-terrors settles into the institutionalised regime where he is closely observed by Moskovitch and regularly hypnotised by him to allow the dream “to breathe”. There is an air of melancholy and uneasiness in the building which supposedly has an attic space of cells and haunted by the ghosts of “wandering maddies”. The narrator loosely befriends Moskovitch’s daughter who is ignored by her father but can obtain access many (rightly as it turns out) forbidden areas of the building.
If the town's institutions seem tainted, the countryside liminal territory with folk-horror never far from the surface. In ‘Finery’ Elena Frankik is both a fortune teller and ‘the seller-of-woven-things’. This story is perhaps inspired by the saying “clothes maketh the man” in that for those who have the right attitude (and are able to pay the price) some of Frankik’s garments might choose the wearer in a kind of act of sympathetic magic or initiation. The choosing (and the wearing) are revealing.
More ‘traditional’ horror is to be found in ’The Bearing’ in which an ‘outsider’ (ie from a nearby village) is begrudgingly allowed to participate in a village custom similar to that of, say, the Allendale Tar Bar’l or Queensferry’s Burryman. But ‘bearing’ has a number of meanings as the narrator discovers to his mental and physical discomfort. ‘A Tantony Pig’ is overtly based on Machen’s ‘The Happy Children’ but Ostermeier removes the dated war-time aspects and re-weaves the remaining material which concerns childhood ritual to bring the story to a very satisfactory contemporary conclusion.
In ‘The Chair’, the new owners of a cottage discover a tiny secret room, shaped and dimpled like a golf ball and covered in meaningless writing. It would seem to only accessible by a child and the only item of furniture in it is a small bed. Who built it and what would one do in/with such a room? Ostermeier slowly turns the tables on the reader as one realises what the writings might mean.
I really liked everything about this volume. Each (and every!) tale is an excellent stand-alone in its own right, but by setting them on ‘the Peninsular’ these elements are combined and re-enforced to create a single very powerful whole, similar to that of Lovecraft’s Arkham County. It is a stunning debut volume, nicely presented as an affordable paperback (limited numbered edition of 250) with French flaps. I immediately re-read it (even better second time out!) and purchased another copy to gift to a friend. What more can I say? This is an essential purchase.
December 17, 2022
Broodcomb Press is doing some amazing things. Their trade paperbacks are, first of all, beautiful books - about the best quality you'll ever see in a TPB. Secondly, they are distinctive. There is no mistaking a Broodcomb book for something else, which speaks to their dedication to a tight, easily identifiable aesthetic; so kudos for that.
But what really stands out is, of course, the prose. I've previously reviewed The Night of Turns and Upmorchard and noted the style of both. They are smooth and and clean, and yet idiosyncratic, especially Ostermeier's voice. There's a certain "tic" that I can't quite suss out that is a sort of literary fingerprint. I'd have to spend more time than I have to pull out an example, but I know it when I read it. Something for me to watch when I next read another Ostermeier book (which I will). I'd love to know how much crafting goes into the writing - how many rewrites, edits, notebooks full of scratched out paragraphs, etc. I know my own experience, but what I wouldn't give to watch Ostermeier write a couple of stories from beginning to end.
And how do the stories in A Trick of the Shadow fare? I liked all of them, loved most of them. There were two that didn't hit home for me, but that's because of my personal tastes, not because of any fault on Ostermeier's part.
To start, Ostermeier folds Mark Fisher's notions of the weird and the eerie in on themselves in "A Tantony Pig". It is a disconcerting method, to say the least, and deeply affecting. I rarely get legitimately scared while reading a story. This was one of those that scared me, even with the lights all on and other people in the house. The unexplained mysteries left behind in the wake of the story make it even more effective. There's a lingering aura that one feels long after reading the closing words.
In "finery" the old phrase about the clothes making the man is transformed and split into the clothes making the woman and the woman making the clothes. Both are inextricably sewn together, the weave and weft of what one wishes to be and what one one must admit she is.
The Chair" is as disturbing as the title is banal. A strange device may or may not allow one to see another's dreams. I'm reminded somewhat of the Christopher Walken movie "Brainstorm", but this is much more disturbing on a personal level. Children's dreams meet adult problems in this story of the loss of innocence amidst family dynamics where no one, yet everyone, is to blame. A strongly affecting story!
While I do like vagary in short stories, I don't like downright inscrutability. I found "The Object" more affecting than effective. Yes, there was an emotional response to reading it, but the utter chaos of the elements didn't work particularly well for me. Utter nihilism and loss, without some stirringly emotional connection feels empty and a bit academic. I supposed nothing's more horrific than academia. Still ... I liked the story, but didn't love it as much as I loved the others.
Body horror just isn't my thing. And "The Intruder" is all about body horror. It was highly unpleasant and disturbing, just like the experiences of the main character. The story was "clunky," and maybe that was by design. If so, it clearly engendered discomfort in this reader. Not that I like my reading comfortable. Au contraire. But stories that leave me feeling almost physically ill are not for me. Maybe for you? If so, this story is definitely for you.
I love folk horror. For folk horror of a different sort, "The Bearing" is hard to beat. The rurality and ritual tropes are present, but the horror doesn't arise from the strange inhabitants of the area. In fact they are trying to prevent the evil from gaining a foothold. Or a hoof-hold. One is left wondering if they actually succeeded, and the need for an annual rite all but ensures that some day they will get it wrong. But only once.
The longest story in the collection, "Bird-hags," is not easily categorizable, which means it's right in my wheelhouse. Part psychological horror, with a slight flicker of body horror, but a huge dose of cosmic ur-horror from the depths of our dreams, this novella hits many different notes, but hits each one soundly. The cosmic aspect is something disruptive to our world, yet uncaring. Not malevolent, just uncaring. I believe this is the sort of thing that Lovecraft was striving for, but Ostermeier uses far more simple language to greater effect, in this instance. This is possibly because the horror here is so darned personal. Perhaps it's because the narrator, while an adult, is showing the story from his childhood point of view, where innocence is slowly being eroded away.
A Trick of the Shadow is another gem in the Broodcomb Press crown. Gaze into it and let it dazzle your eyes! You will . . . see things . . .
But what really stands out is, of course, the prose. I've previously reviewed The Night of Turns and Upmorchard and noted the style of both. They are smooth and and clean, and yet idiosyncratic, especially Ostermeier's voice. There's a certain "tic" that I can't quite suss out that is a sort of literary fingerprint. I'd have to spend more time than I have to pull out an example, but I know it when I read it. Something for me to watch when I next read another Ostermeier book (which I will). I'd love to know how much crafting goes into the writing - how many rewrites, edits, notebooks full of scratched out paragraphs, etc. I know my own experience, but what I wouldn't give to watch Ostermeier write a couple of stories from beginning to end.
And how do the stories in A Trick of the Shadow fare? I liked all of them, loved most of them. There were two that didn't hit home for me, but that's because of my personal tastes, not because of any fault on Ostermeier's part.
To start, Ostermeier folds Mark Fisher's notions of the weird and the eerie in on themselves in "A Tantony Pig". It is a disconcerting method, to say the least, and deeply affecting. I rarely get legitimately scared while reading a story. This was one of those that scared me, even with the lights all on and other people in the house. The unexplained mysteries left behind in the wake of the story make it even more effective. There's a lingering aura that one feels long after reading the closing words.
In "finery" the old phrase about the clothes making the man is transformed and split into the clothes making the woman and the woman making the clothes. Both are inextricably sewn together, the weave and weft of what one wishes to be and what one one must admit she is.
The Chair" is as disturbing as the title is banal. A strange device may or may not allow one to see another's dreams. I'm reminded somewhat of the Christopher Walken movie "Brainstorm", but this is much more disturbing on a personal level. Children's dreams meet adult problems in this story of the loss of innocence amidst family dynamics where no one, yet everyone, is to blame. A strongly affecting story!
While I do like vagary in short stories, I don't like downright inscrutability. I found "The Object" more affecting than effective. Yes, there was an emotional response to reading it, but the utter chaos of the elements didn't work particularly well for me. Utter nihilism and loss, without some stirringly emotional connection feels empty and a bit academic. I supposed nothing's more horrific than academia. Still ... I liked the story, but didn't love it as much as I loved the others.
Body horror just isn't my thing. And "The Intruder" is all about body horror. It was highly unpleasant and disturbing, just like the experiences of the main character. The story was "clunky," and maybe that was by design. If so, it clearly engendered discomfort in this reader. Not that I like my reading comfortable. Au contraire. But stories that leave me feeling almost physically ill are not for me. Maybe for you? If so, this story is definitely for you.
I love folk horror. For folk horror of a different sort, "The Bearing" is hard to beat. The rurality and ritual tropes are present, but the horror doesn't arise from the strange inhabitants of the area. In fact they are trying to prevent the evil from gaining a foothold. Or a hoof-hold. One is left wondering if they actually succeeded, and the need for an annual rite all but ensures that some day they will get it wrong. But only once.
The longest story in the collection, "Bird-hags," is not easily categorizable, which means it's right in my wheelhouse. Part psychological horror, with a slight flicker of body horror, but a huge dose of cosmic ur-horror from the depths of our dreams, this novella hits many different notes, but hits each one soundly. The cosmic aspect is something disruptive to our world, yet uncaring. Not malevolent, just uncaring. I believe this is the sort of thing that Lovecraft was striving for, but Ostermeier uses far more simple language to greater effect, in this instance. This is possibly because the horror here is so darned personal. Perhaps it's because the narrator, while an adult, is showing the story from his childhood point of view, where innocence is slowly being eroded away.
A Trick of the Shadow is another gem in the Broodcomb Press crown. Gaze into it and let it dazzle your eyes! You will . . . see things . . .
August 29, 2021
This book, that came out of nowhere, is a masterpiece of weird horror. One of the best books that i have read the recent years regarding genre or style. Without a doubt it will become a classis of weird literature.
Not to be missed !
"Do you fear death?
Now i am not sure i even understood the question, and I'd be an adult before i realised how profund a problem that lack acknowledgement of fear is. The glimpse into the void is the mind without denial, open to the nothingness of existence. We should all of us be shrieking in terror from birth to death, and it is the strangest fact that we are not."
Not to be missed !
"Do you fear death?
Now i am not sure i even understood the question, and I'd be an adult before i realised how profund a problem that lack acknowledgement of fear is. The glimpse into the void is the mind without denial, open to the nothingness of existence. We should all of us be shrieking in terror from birth to death, and it is the strangest fact that we are not."
January 31, 2026
Usually I am not a huge fan of this sort of thing, but a review on here caught my eye. Very glad it did. Often in this type of fiction I find the writing is sacrificed to the concept, but here that is not the case at all. Excellent prose throughout. Clearly the author is highly skilled at the level of craft, Unsettled me in just the right way, and actually led to some very weird dreams last night after I finished late in the evening.
Highly recommended. I will be exploring more of this very interesting press for sure.
Highly recommended. I will be exploring more of this very interesting press for sure.
February 3, 2021
A stellar collection of weird horror that seems to have come out of nowhere. Its stories span masterfully the spectrum from folkloric weird to body horror, existentialism and children terrors. Imagine early Clive Barker with less viscera and urban elements, or a more mischievous and folk-oriented Thomas Ligotti.
The writing brilliantly avoids any prose extravagance, has a faultless flow and evokes genuine weirdness via articulation and uncanny (as well as heart-warming in places) imagery. Moreover, the existence of a common setting in which all the stories are set in -an English province called the Peninsula, its towns and villages fully alive with lore and shadows- creates a magnificent web, strengthening the parts. Presented in a lovely and affordable paperback by the new Broodcomb Press which deserves well-earned credit for the discovery of R. Ostermeier.
The writing brilliantly avoids any prose extravagance, has a faultless flow and evokes genuine weirdness via articulation and uncanny (as well as heart-warming in places) imagery. Moreover, the existence of a common setting in which all the stories are set in -an English province called the Peninsula, its towns and villages fully alive with lore and shadows- creates a magnificent web, strengthening the parts. Presented in a lovely and affordable paperback by the new Broodcomb Press which deserves well-earned credit for the discovery of R. Ostermeier.
March 4, 2022
4.5 rounded up to 5
October 19, 2021
Echoing hymns in dark chambers where the light of man could never reach.
There are few sensations as insatiable as that of discovering a fresh voice in the weird genre that taps into primal fears while compelling the hand to turn the page, a whispering, sickly sweet voice of poison in your ear.
Ostermeir knows how to get under your skin, and it’s glorious.
There are few sensations as insatiable as that of discovering a fresh voice in the weird genre that taps into primal fears while compelling the hand to turn the page, a whispering, sickly sweet voice of poison in your ear.
Ostermeir knows how to get under your skin, and it’s glorious.
February 16, 2022
A major attritional work of weird literature. Impossibly disturbing.
My detailed review, too impractical to post here in full:: https://dflewisreviews.wordpress.com/...
My detailed review, too impractical to post here in full:: https://dflewisreviews.wordpress.com/...
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December 4, 2021I thought this was absolutely deserving of the excitement and applause that Broodcomb Press seem to be generating.
Of the seven stories here, two are similar to Upmorchard: outsiders are let in on strange local folklore. These two stories are very well-executed examples of the traditional weird tale. Another two are different versions of the ‘cursed object’ story (again, both very well-executed). The remaining three are centred around what you might call ‘strange technologies’. These three were, to my mind, the most original and interesting stories in the collection. All three seem to operate in the space where superstition and folk psychology meet scientific and medical advancement. The results are never less than unsettling.
Of the seven stories here, two are similar to Upmorchard: outsiders are let in on strange local folklore. These two stories are very well-executed examples of the traditional weird tale. Another two are different versions of the ‘cursed object’ story (again, both very well-executed). The remaining three are centred around what you might call ‘strange technologies’. These three were, to my mind, the most original and interesting stories in the collection. All three seem to operate in the space where superstition and folk psychology meet scientific and medical advancement. The results are never less than unsettling.
October 24, 2021
A modest little book, published in an edition of 200 copies by Broodcomb Press, a small outfit in Cornwall, and it contains some of the best weird stories I've read in years. There are seven stories in all here and I'd rank three of them as near perfect examples of what Robert Aickman called "strange stories." They work the same territory as some of Aickman's fiction, but also have notes of Arthur Machen, MR James, and the best output of the classic ghost tradition, though everything here is much weirder than mere ghosts and any influences are more than eclipsed by the shadowy brilliance of the writing and the plots. A friend recommended this book without reservation and my thought -- "How good can it be from an obscure publisher by a writer I've never heard of?" -- seems silly now that I've read it. If you like truly weird fiction, well written and stunningly original within its tradition, check out the press's website. I've already ordered everything they publish that's still in print.
January 13, 2022
Here is a strong recommendation to anyone who delights in the subtle, unsettling type of horror you experience while reading Robert Aickman's stories, as this author is quite effective at placing you in a normal everyday setting which has been quietly invaded by the unreal. There are far too few writers of these kind of stories. Oddly, the prose style of some in the middle of this collection seemed different than the rest in that it was a bit overly rich in odd grammar, creative word choices, and quirky character dialogue. For me, it became annoying- effectively breaking the spell of the story and vexing me to the point that I skimmed over sections. I hope that the 3 or 4 excellent stories in this collection were perhaps more recently written and therefore indicative of what this writer will have for us next.
September 12, 2025
Magnificent. It's been on my shelf more or less since it came out, having learned about Broodcomb press during a brief few days spent on Instagram with a fledgling micro press before I deleted my account... I'd heard it was good. It looked like something I'd read. But for some reason I kept putting it aside to read something else, thinking it would be, you know, good for an indie thing, promising but not there yet. Or something. Anyway, I am pleased to say I was wrong. This is brilliant. Properly haunting, evocative, weird and eerie, similar in the ways that M John Harrison adapts the feel of Arthur Machen or Aickman's ghost stories for a different type of haunting. You've got strange burial rites, a strange chair in a strangely-built family home, ghost children, bird people, night terrors and sleep paralysis, recurring characters and buildings, all set on the 'peninsula', framed loosely as a narrative by, or told to, a visiting anthropologist. The closest comparison I can make is the magnificent Robert Shearman collection, We All Hear Stories in the Dark. My copy says its no. 40/200 but it's still available on their website. Not sure if it's the same printing or not, but if you like folk horror, laconic English ghost stories, M John Harrison, Machen, Shearman, or, I guess, Ligotti (though I think this is better), I'd recommend picking it up.
May 10, 2025
A trick of the Shadow
Just wow. I’ve been reading so much weird and horror fiction in the last 20 years but I honestly reckon R.Ostermeier is the best living author of what one can term folk horror, although they might be pioneering a new genre here, peninsular? Therapeutic Horror? who knows
I might have missed a clue but I find it really interesting not to know the gender of the author, it adds that little extra spark of weirdness and instability. I would put a coin on a man with a strong anima but a woman with a big animus is not to be ruled out!
The collection starts very strongly with the A Tantony Pig, the story paints bleak, ghostly, claustrophobic British coastal scenes complete with “local shop for local people” vibes.
“The Chair” is another story which is sure to become a classic. Hidden rooms in houses is a theme I have a penchant for, here it links up to dreams and family dysfunction and ultimately sheer horror.
In “Object” , aspects of folk horror are reinvented in gruesome imaginative fashion, puppetry of the most awful kind.
In Finery, the seller of woven things is a dark manipulator of fate. Again elements of folk horror combine with the freshness of peninsular drama.
Never will I forget the pall bearers of “The Bearing” and their nocturnal transhumance through 64 houses, but what do the coffins bear?
The Mosk house appears in two stories, both the same house and yet different . Even the names of the places and characters bear some disquiet, I don’t know exactly how the author achieves it, “ Mosk” sounds nefarious, somewhere between a mosquito and a religious building, even the character names seem to waver between some slightly eastern European sounding and something altogether alien.
In the Bird Hags, the Mosk house is the theatre of a doctor who cures nightmares but does the place house these antediluvian consciousless nightmare monster dwellers? In “The Intruder” the Mosk house is a slimming down clinique but what is the organic method to slim? The price to pay is still unknown by the end but many horrors are suggested..
This is the strongest collection by R. OSTERMEIER in my view, every story feels like a classic and this author I hope will soon be recognised as one of the finest of all times in the genre and I weigh my words.
I wonder if, in the long run, the Broodcoom press stories all having to take place in the peninsula, will be limiting or in the contrary, will create a cult new map of weird horror.
Just wow. I’ve been reading so much weird and horror fiction in the last 20 years but I honestly reckon R.Ostermeier is the best living author of what one can term folk horror, although they might be pioneering a new genre here, peninsular? Therapeutic Horror? who knows
I might have missed a clue but I find it really interesting not to know the gender of the author, it adds that little extra spark of weirdness and instability. I would put a coin on a man with a strong anima but a woman with a big animus is not to be ruled out!
The collection starts very strongly with the A Tantony Pig, the story paints bleak, ghostly, claustrophobic British coastal scenes complete with “local shop for local people” vibes.
“The Chair” is another story which is sure to become a classic. Hidden rooms in houses is a theme I have a penchant for, here it links up to dreams and family dysfunction and ultimately sheer horror.
In “Object” , aspects of folk horror are reinvented in gruesome imaginative fashion, puppetry of the most awful kind.
In Finery, the seller of woven things is a dark manipulator of fate. Again elements of folk horror combine with the freshness of peninsular drama.
Never will I forget the pall bearers of “The Bearing” and their nocturnal transhumance through 64 houses, but what do the coffins bear?
The Mosk house appears in two stories, both the same house and yet different . Even the names of the places and characters bear some disquiet, I don’t know exactly how the author achieves it, “ Mosk” sounds nefarious, somewhere between a mosquito and a religious building, even the character names seem to waver between some slightly eastern European sounding and something altogether alien.
In the Bird Hags, the Mosk house is the theatre of a doctor who cures nightmares but does the place house these antediluvian consciousless nightmare monster dwellers? In “The Intruder” the Mosk house is a slimming down clinique but what is the organic method to slim? The price to pay is still unknown by the end but many horrors are suggested..
This is the strongest collection by R. OSTERMEIER in my view, every story feels like a classic and this author I hope will soon be recognised as one of the finest of all times in the genre and I weigh my words.
I wonder if, in the long run, the Broodcoom press stories all having to take place in the peninsula, will be limiting or in the contrary, will create a cult new map of weird horror.
January 29, 2026
Skin crawling goodness, the bird hags especially. Can’t wait to venture deeper into The Peninsula.
September 25, 2022
A stunning collection of seven dark dark stories as eery and as unnerving as anything I’ve read. A warning to the unwary reader: don't read this last thing at night. I did and when I put the book down, sleep was hard to come by as I was quite creeped out. So much so that when my wife came back to bed in the middle of the night, and sleepily asked who are those people outside the front of the house, rather than getting out of bed and investigating like a responsible home-owning adult, I retreated under the covers like a frightened child, in my half-awake state believing the denizens of R. Ostermeier’s stories had come to life; fearing “a seam in the cloth of existence had yawned open to loose horrors into the world", and they had found where I lived.
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kulchurkat.wordpress.com
February 3, 2025
Broodcomb Press are a small indie publisher from ‘the peninsula’, which I take it refers to the southwest of England, Cornwall, Devon and Dorset.
Amongst the local writers who are showcased is the mysterious R. Ostermeier. Other than that his writing is about the ‘peninsula’, not a lot else is available; age, gender, background etc. That fits in nicely with his writing, typical of Broodcomb, folkloric and weird.
Though we could have guessed it pretty soon into the book, Ostermeier tells us that one of his great influences is Arthur Machen in the first story of this collection, A Tantony Pig. In particular in this case, to Machen's classic tale, The Ritual. It’s a really good play on the concept, and probably the best story in the book.
Machen's influence is evident also in a story later in the book, The Bearing, a folk horror in the 'Wicker Man' mode in which at a village's annual festival seven coffins are carried around each of the 63 houses.
In paying homage to Machen in the way he does, Ostermeier does run the risk of his influences diminishing his own work. I suppose later books of his will tell us more, as this is his first collection, but his stories do come with there own trademark, taking the weird to a different level, not higher, but one with more explicit body horror, and his own timely insertion of extremely dark humour. They are personal also, with a first person narration in several, for example, the last and longest, the novella Bird-Hags, in which as an adult, the narrator is looking back at his time in early adolescence, when he was admitted to an institution supposed to help him with recurrent and terrifying nightmares. One feels there is something of Ostermeier himself here.
It’s easy to be put off by Broodcomb Press because of the price of the books. They are usually a very limited print run and sell out quickly, and expensive, but beautifully bound, and would sit splendidly in the bookcase. A few, three, are issued later as ebooks, which is the path I have gone down, and more affordable. Ostermeier has a new novella out in February, Black Dog, of which there will be only 200 copies, and no ebook anytime soon, if ever.
The peninsula abounds in strange tales, and the nature of the way the settlers here have found harmony leads to distinctly off-kilter fictions and poetry. Encompassing poetry, strange tales and experimental fiction, Broodcomb Press is a home for the writing that belongs here: disquieting truths about the region – tales both eerie and shocking – together with exploring the fantastic / everyday meaning of what it means to be human.
Amongst the local writers who are showcased is the mysterious R. Ostermeier. Other than that his writing is about the ‘peninsula’, not a lot else is available; age, gender, background etc. That fits in nicely with his writing, typical of Broodcomb, folkloric and weird.
Though we could have guessed it pretty soon into the book, Ostermeier tells us that one of his great influences is Arthur Machen in the first story of this collection, A Tantony Pig. In particular in this case, to Machen's classic tale, The Ritual. It’s a really good play on the concept, and probably the best story in the book.
Machen's influence is evident also in a story later in the book, The Bearing, a folk horror in the 'Wicker Man' mode in which at a village's annual festival seven coffins are carried around each of the 63 houses.
In paying homage to Machen in the way he does, Ostermeier does run the risk of his influences diminishing his own work. I suppose later books of his will tell us more, as this is his first collection, but his stories do come with there own trademark, taking the weird to a different level, not higher, but one with more explicit body horror, and his own timely insertion of extremely dark humour. They are personal also, with a first person narration in several, for example, the last and longest, the novella Bird-Hags, in which as an adult, the narrator is looking back at his time in early adolescence, when he was admitted to an institution supposed to help him with recurrent and terrifying nightmares. One feels there is something of Ostermeier himself here.
It’s easy to be put off by Broodcomb Press because of the price of the books. They are usually a very limited print run and sell out quickly, and expensive, but beautifully bound, and would sit splendidly in the bookcase. A few, three, are issued later as ebooks, which is the path I have gone down, and more affordable. Ostermeier has a new novella out in February, Black Dog, of which there will be only 200 copies, and no ebook anytime soon, if ever.
October 2, 2025
Broodcomb Press strikes again. I just love this independent publisher. Jamie does amazing work with the unique design of the physical releases, and thankfully, I am continually able to say that the quality of the writing matches the splendid exterior.
This is the second release in ‘The Peninsula’ universe - and it matches the first (The Settlements) in terms of creating a setting that is a unique and anachronistic blend of styles, genres, and time periods. The atmosphere is what makes it so special—and once again, it hits just right. This is literary slow-burn horror at its best. Eerie and mysterious - creative and playful - and skilfully written.
I will just highlight my favorite stories (nearly all of them)
A Tantony Pig
A great way to kick off the collection with an Arthur Machen-inspired folk horror story. An outsider anthropologist comes to a small coastal village and becomes a witness to an ancient and ominous ritual. Obvious parallels to The Wicker Man, but the writing is immaculate, and the controlled tempo of the reader becoming witness to the ritual is expertly done.
Finery
A shorter conceptual story, wherein a weaver weaves dresses with inherent properties. As tradition prescribes, a young woman is “selected,” and gets to feel her way through the different cloths until one calls out for her. Destined. A neat “flipped idea” of “clothes maketh the man.”
The Chair is my favorite story in the collection!
A parent couple moves into a new house, in which a chair is the only object. It has a plug-and-socket in the wall of the house, and underneath it is a tiny secret chamber, the entrance just about big enough for their sole daughter to climb through. There seems to be a strange connection between the sitter in the chair and the girl in the room, with remnants of dreams passing between them. This is a horror story - it has a - nightmarish - ending. Brilliant!
Object - I loved the beginning of this story concerning a small-time theater reviewer. The fictional plays were so creative and interesting. It slowly turns into a fetish-object type horror story, which I did not expect. The literary style of the first half worked better than the horror part, though, in my opinion.
The Intruder - A man who has failed to lose weight is willing to take more drastic measures to overcome his obesity. He goes for the little-known “organic method”. Safe to say that the method is unconventional - and he experiences a particular “inner turmoil” when he learns that a child's amputated (but still living) hand is clenched around his gastrointestinal parts. Body horror!
All in all, a brilliant collection.
Can’t wait for my next trip to the Peninsula (I have already bought the next volume, ‘The Night of Turns’).
This is the second release in ‘The Peninsula’ universe - and it matches the first (The Settlements) in terms of creating a setting that is a unique and anachronistic blend of styles, genres, and time periods. The atmosphere is what makes it so special—and once again, it hits just right. This is literary slow-burn horror at its best. Eerie and mysterious - creative and playful - and skilfully written.
I will just highlight my favorite stories (nearly all of them)
A Tantony Pig
A great way to kick off the collection with an Arthur Machen-inspired folk horror story. An outsider anthropologist comes to a small coastal village and becomes a witness to an ancient and ominous ritual. Obvious parallels to The Wicker Man, but the writing is immaculate, and the controlled tempo of the reader becoming witness to the ritual is expertly done.
Finery
A shorter conceptual story, wherein a weaver weaves dresses with inherent properties. As tradition prescribes, a young woman is “selected,” and gets to feel her way through the different cloths until one calls out for her. Destined. A neat “flipped idea” of “clothes maketh the man.”
The Chair is my favorite story in the collection!
A parent couple moves into a new house, in which a chair is the only object. It has a plug-and-socket in the wall of the house, and underneath it is a tiny secret chamber, the entrance just about big enough for their sole daughter to climb through. There seems to be a strange connection between the sitter in the chair and the girl in the room, with remnants of dreams passing between them. This is a horror story - it has a - nightmarish - ending. Brilliant!
Object - I loved the beginning of this story concerning a small-time theater reviewer. The fictional plays were so creative and interesting. It slowly turns into a fetish-object type horror story, which I did not expect. The literary style of the first half worked better than the horror part, though, in my opinion.
The Intruder - A man who has failed to lose weight is willing to take more drastic measures to overcome his obesity. He goes for the little-known “organic method”. Safe to say that the method is unconventional - and he experiences a particular “inner turmoil” when he learns that a child's amputated (but still living) hand is clenched around his gastrointestinal parts. Body horror!
All in all, a brilliant collection.
Can’t wait for my next trip to the Peninsula (I have already bought the next volume, ‘The Night of Turns’).
October 30, 2024
“I didn’t want to believe in the supernatural but there are moments when reality allows a stranger world to surface. The world we know is mapped and known to high degree, the realm of science and the facile reassurance of rationalism. Where there are unknowns, the scientific mind worries them because they are not yet explained: their mystery is a trick of the light, and only the light can remove the mystery.“
An amazing collection of folk horror stories centered around (an imagined?) rural England. While there weren’t necessarily any “big” scares, I was thoroughly unsettled the whole way through. It often reads like updated 19th century prose, without the clunk and heaviness. It manages to be removed and distant, almost anthropological but still hits to the emotional core. My favorite stories centered around the village rituals stumbled upon by an outsider, a trope that Ostermeir manages to make fresh. I’ll certainly be checking out more Broodcomb Press books, I’m hooked.
An amazing collection of folk horror stories centered around (an imagined?) rural England. While there weren’t necessarily any “big” scares, I was thoroughly unsettled the whole way through. It often reads like updated 19th century prose, without the clunk and heaviness. It manages to be removed and distant, almost anthropological but still hits to the emotional core. My favorite stories centered around the village rituals stumbled upon by an outsider, a trope that Ostermeir manages to make fresh. I’ll certainly be checking out more Broodcomb Press books, I’m hooked.
January 24, 2024
Uha uha.
April 12, 2025
Oh boy. This is the start of something incredible and unlike anything I’ve experienced.
December 10, 2025
Really happy to have found this weird press with their strange/uncanny books. Gonna go read a bunch more now.
March 31, 2023
Everything horror short-stories should be:
Ghoulish; surreal; illogical; bizarre; intriguing; imaginative; challenging .....
.... and very well written!
Ghoulish; surreal; illogical; bizarre; intriguing; imaginative; challenging .....
.... and very well written!
July 21, 2025
Awesome! Very creepy stories, particularly enjoyed the Machen-esque folk-horror tales, although my pick of the crop was 'The Chair'.
Reread July 2025: still a great collection although found the last story a bit of a dud.
Reread July 2025: still a great collection although found the last story a bit of a dud.
February 22, 2025
Another fine collection of stories by R. Ostermeier. Highly recommended.
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