Is there a theme in supernatural fiction more prone to cliché and cozy familiarity than the haunted house story?
With this mammoth new anthology, Egaeus Press aims to reclaim that supremely primal tradition, not only from glossy movies, cartoons and television-era ghost hunters, but also from the Victorians, and the great, academic spook story authors of the 20th Century who, by their nature, sought to calibrate, anthropomorphise and provide justification for acts by forces which might hitherto have been considered beyond the scope of human comprehension.
Crooked Houses takes its cue from this earlier age. Though many of the stories presented are set in the modern world, the forces which pervade are primeval, unquantifiable; the stuff of folk-tales, family curses and collective nightmares.
These houses have very deep roots. These houses have teeth.
The book comprises 17 previously unpublished stories. The full table of contents is as follows:
YOUR HOUSE, ANY HOUSE. THAT HOUSE. — Rebecca Kuder THE SULLIED PANE — Richard Gavin THE SHEPHERD’S HOUSE — Colin Insole THE WEST WINDOW — Helen Grant THE PSYCHOMANTEUM — Steve Duffy THE CRUMBLIES — Reggie Oliver THE DEVIL WILL BE AT THE DOOR — David Surface THE HOUSE OF THE MERE — John Gale FAIREST OF THEM ALL — Albert Power MIASMATA — Lynda E. Rucker THE READERS OF THE SANDS — Mark Valentine DOLL’S HOUSE — Carly Holmes AT LOTHESLEY, MONTGOMERYSHIRE, 1910 — James Doig IN CROMER ROAD — Rebecca Lloyd HOUSE OF SAND — Katherine Haynes MYTHOLOGY — Jane Jakeman THE PINER HOUSE — Timothy Granville Edited by Mark Beech
The book is a lithographically printed, 352 page hardback with colour endpapers; limited to just 325 copies.
It would seem that everybody (still) likes a haunted house. We have probably all been to a place that we have been told is haunted, perhaps felt uneasy at certain locations or experienced an entirely different interpretation of the term at a funfair. Perhaps that nostalgia is why this book sold out within about two weeks. The publisher blurb seems somewhat contradictory, wanting to reclaim the tale from the past….. and yet be “primaeval, unquantifiable; the stuff of folk-tales, family curses and collective nightmares”, which sounds to me like ‘the past’ to me, albeit a more ‘universal’ one.
The results of this are (as also expected) a mixed bag. Some are so enigmatic that the housing element seems largely absent, Mark Valentines ‘The Readers Of The Sands’ a case in point. Others try to twist a familiar trope, like the “this house had bad things happen in it. Shall we go in?” premise beloved of the 80’s teen slasher films of the 80’s’ and with the usual result. We also look back to the ‘mysterious halcyon childhood’ story (I blame the vastly over-rated Ray Bradbury for ‘this type of thing’) and the ‘mysterious door’ trope also gets an outing. However, the latter's author, Lynda E Rucker, does succeed in working it into something quite unexpected and it is one of the strongest stories in the book. Another winner is Helen Grant (always worth reading) who takes ‘The West Window’ and gives it an innovative and enigmatic outcome. She surely deserves another solo volume soon.
Its always a pleasure to read anything by Colin Insole and Reggie Oliver, both authors giving us finely worked tales in their usual elegantly written styles, Dreamlike and allusive in Insole’s case, more straightforward and subversive in Oliver’s. Though both include houses, this element is one of any number of themes that would thus fit a variety of anthologies, but this does not detract from their enjoyment for the reader.
Oliver’s story shares an amusing (at least to me) link with Richard Gavin's tale which takes us into the darker territory of the living. This is also very good; short, surreal, sexual and devoid of the more occult elements sometimes found in his work, which I think tend to narrow rather than widen his vision.
There occult is certainly to the forefront of Steve Duffy’s ‘The Psyhomantium’. The subplot seems a little overworked and could have probably been stripped back but overall the tale captures a peculiar air of concentrated insularity very well that skews it off-kilter - in a good way. It also reminded me of the extra-ordinary environment/artwork created by Emery Blagdon over a period of some decades (spoiler alert: better google him after reading the story!) but put to other ends.
The centre (and longest) piece of this book is Albert Power’s ‘The Fairest Of Them All’ which is again an exercise in claustrophobia and takes the reader to a very dark place indeed. There is a level of horror that that plays with the notion of victimhood that is sustained for the duration of the piece with a somewhat enigmatic ending that I liked a lot. Nothing is very clear cut in this story and its subject matter is handled very well indeed. This is my overall favourite of the book.
You might have gathered that I am somewhat unimpressed with this book's concept, and you would be right. Although there is the idea that some buildings are just ‘bad’, these same buildings are (generally) built by people and (often) haunted by previous occupants and their histories. With no human interaction, we have no story to tell. Thus if you are expecting a collection of great new ‘takes’ on the haunted house you could well be as disappointed as I was. But if we jettison its theme and read it as a ‘straight’ anthology then there are some good tales here - as we might (or even should) expect from its list of authors. But nothing (bar the Power and Grant tales) really make this book super-special for me, If it were a block of ‘contemporary urban-chic’ apartments then we would perhaps say that most of them are nice to visit but there are just not enough penthouse suites.
A physically imposing collection of weird/horror stories focusing on menacing buildings. As is usual with collections, the material is a bit uneven and thematically oscillating - there are a lot of different takes on the haunted house motif. However, (as other reviewers have noted) most of the stories feel that they're using the house just as background decor - with slight tweaking they could very well be inserted in a collection with a different theme. My main issue is that I expected to see houses, not humans, as protagonists; unfortunately this was rarely the case here.
The stories that truly stood out for me were: Colin Insole's "The Shepherd's House" (a folk horror-ish story which I would love to see expanded), Lynda E. Rucker's utterly frightful "Miasmata," James Doig's "At Lothesley, Montgomeryshire 1910" (my personal favourite, a James-ian rural tale), and Rebecca Lloyd's "In Cromer Road" (a weird folkloric take on the haunted house motif).
Nice collection of haunted house stories. This leans more to the weird, quiet side of horror, which suits me well. Nothing in here is particularly gory and the unsettling elements feed themselves rather by existential explications than by ouright horror and/or terror. Highlighs were the ones from Richard Gavin and Colin Insole (as I expected) but certainly not the only recommendable stories.
An unswervable embarrassment of riches, this book, and powerful and shocking enough in places to have spurred no doubt your own abode’s ghost to finally come out and literally kick your literary butt, if not your real one.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long to post here. Above is its conclusion.
An absolutely beautiful looking book. I really love the style of Egaeus Press with their hardbound anthologies of weird fiction containing Victorian illustrations throughout. My favorite stories in this collection include:
The Shepherd's House by Colin Insole The Devil Will Be at the Door by David Surface Miasmata by Lynda E. Rucker and, especially, At Lothesley, Montgomeryshire 1910 by James Doig
A great collection of weird tales compiled by Mark Beech, and my introduction to the quality publications of Egaeus Press. Not a bad story in the book. Pride of place for me is Albert Power's Fairest Of Them All, whose Peakean wordsmithery had me enthralled from the very first page. "Dead at its end, a mere forty feet from the mouth, obtruded a bulk of a building that might have shoved forth some wayward lost dream of forlorn nights, web-woven sorrows and dreary deaths at sea."
Multiple tales of the house, the estate, or the residents within, where a fissure ruptures the foundation.
In “The Sullied Plane” new bride Maxine marvels at how pristine, how perfect, her in-law’s manor is. Perfection extracts a price, however, which she impulsively attempts to uncover.
“The Shepherd’s House” is actually unseen, yet the gnarled owner, the Shepherd, has been witnessed for centuries. And those who spy the Shepherd succumb to terror.
Mother is a faded Southern belle, highly strung, riddled with delusions. In her childhood, she had fashioned a construct, as well as a pact, with her brother – her precious brother – the golden son. When he mysteriously summons her, Mother hurries her family to “The Psychomanteum.”
Owen, Mandy and son Adam move into the run down house. A fixer-upper to be sure, but more Importantly a fresh start. Owen blusters good cheer and optimism, while Adam broods, mourns the old home, and clings to his mother. Mandy, the close lipped sort, nestles in the cellar where she crafts a “Doll’s House.”
“At Lothesley, Montgomeryshire, 1910,” the house exists as more shell than ruin, and had been for more than one hundred years. The Crown wonders if it is worth preserving, so they dispatch a professor, conscientious if less than careful with things that ought not be disturbed.
“House Of Sand” strikes me as the most Aickmanesque of the stories. Told by an unreliable narrator, the impressive home and well heeled guests seem to alter every half hour.