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Chumash
Ancient legends foretold their return. The Chumash Indians knew ages ago that the Great Eagle Spirit would wreak a terrible revenge on all who dared desecrate their lands.
Now the time has come.
Now the time has come.
- GenresHorror
400 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1986
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
August 16, 2022
This is one of those paperbacks from hell that you read knowing full well what you are getting into. From the very first pages, you get some slaughtered campers, then an introduction to our long-haired Brawny Man protagonist, a jogger with perky nipples poking through her shirt, three drunk teenage tools going places they shouldn't go, a disgruntled employee who has no qualms about drinking on the job in front of his peers, and a female park ranger voted by her colleagues as "the most attractive figure in uniform" who our hero has to resist slapping on her behind. We get sexist comments about women making coffee and worse. And we're just 14 pages in! Welcome to Leisure Horror in 1986, folks--printed in the good ol' U.S. of A.!
But the appeal of this book for many will largely be based on the fact that it has not aged well. This is a nostalgia-lover's dream, a little time capsule to remind us where we have been. If you lived through the 80s, you'll feel transported back there. If you are too young but enjoy cultural throwbacks from the decade, you'll enjoy it too. If you've ever been traveling and camping on the Pacific coast, you'll feel the breeze, smell the air, and hear the rustle of leaves and the crash of the surf as you remember the bluffs and mountainside beauty of the area around Highway 1. And anyone who has a soft spot for cheesy movies of the era will also get a kick out of this book, despite its apparent lack of self-awareness and blunt portrayal of Reagan-era California. This is a book to celebrate the thrill of B-movie monsters as well as things like surfing and hanging out by the pool, coke-fueled parties out of converted orange carpeted vans, campfire ghost stories and roasted marshmallows, the tickle of something brushing up against your leg as you swim, and the musk of bear turds along a mountain trail.
The main character is a park ranger named Bob. Of course. I think that from now on I'm just going to call every hero of a paperback from hell "Bob," no matter if their name is John, Dick, Biff, Jim or Melvin. Bob reminds me of Bryan Cranston with a mullet, but this book was written in the 80s, so we are told he reminds folks of Tom Selleck. He doesn't like the fact that a new senate bill just awarded his park with funds to expand. The very environment the park is to preserve is now being mowed down to make room for parking lots, new campgrounds, and more facilities. His quiet little park is now being turned into an overcrowded tourist attraction. But the area isn't just sacred to Bob. The dead spirits of the Chumash tribes are not happy about their ancestral lands being overrun with stoned beach bunnies and drunken dad bods. Freak storms, spooky sounds in the night, and mysterious disappearances ensue. Almost immediately, ranger Bob suspects supernatural forces at work, which is weird considering he's supposed to be this hardened skeptic. But whatever. Instead of a stubborn mayor, Bob's boss is the park superintendent, and he is unwilling to close the grounds during the biggest summer yet. This book is like the mutant bastard child of "Jaws" and "Friday the 13th."
And I really liked it! The writing is actually quite good, very descriptive, and at times chilling, but it is never difficult to read. Hell, the narrator even calls "persuasive" a ten dollar word. The dialogue feels overall natural and believable, if not mundane at times.
Unfortunately, the plot is padded out incessantly. There is little to deserve the exact 400 pages of tiny font and narrow margins in this volume. As such, we get lengthy passages of guys ogling girls, a full political speech, almost the entire transcript of a documentary film, descriptions of various bodacious babes and blonde Adonis-types wearing Speedos, cranky men bitching about how things aren't the way they used to be, the main protagonist drinking beer (and lots of it), the introduction of random characters who add nothing to the plot, and the uninteresting interoffice drama of a state Department of Parks and Recreation.
But when this thing gets going, it's classic horror gold. It's not the scariest or the goriest of the classic paperbacks I've read, but there is something incredibly charming and comforting about this book, like watching a late career Roger Corman flick while eating your favorite pizza with stuffed crust.
Find yourself a copy of "Chumash," and I think it will scratch that nagging itch for campy thrills (pun intended).
But the appeal of this book for many will largely be based on the fact that it has not aged well. This is a nostalgia-lover's dream, a little time capsule to remind us where we have been. If you lived through the 80s, you'll feel transported back there. If you are too young but enjoy cultural throwbacks from the decade, you'll enjoy it too. If you've ever been traveling and camping on the Pacific coast, you'll feel the breeze, smell the air, and hear the rustle of leaves and the crash of the surf as you remember the bluffs and mountainside beauty of the area around Highway 1. And anyone who has a soft spot for cheesy movies of the era will also get a kick out of this book, despite its apparent lack of self-awareness and blunt portrayal of Reagan-era California. This is a book to celebrate the thrill of B-movie monsters as well as things like surfing and hanging out by the pool, coke-fueled parties out of converted orange carpeted vans, campfire ghost stories and roasted marshmallows, the tickle of something brushing up against your leg as you swim, and the musk of bear turds along a mountain trail.
The main character is a park ranger named Bob. Of course. I think that from now on I'm just going to call every hero of a paperback from hell "Bob," no matter if their name is John, Dick, Biff, Jim or Melvin. Bob reminds me of Bryan Cranston with a mullet, but this book was written in the 80s, so we are told he reminds folks of Tom Selleck. He doesn't like the fact that a new senate bill just awarded his park with funds to expand. The very environment the park is to preserve is now being mowed down to make room for parking lots, new campgrounds, and more facilities. His quiet little park is now being turned into an overcrowded tourist attraction. But the area isn't just sacred to Bob. The dead spirits of the Chumash tribes are not happy about their ancestral lands being overrun with stoned beach bunnies and drunken dad bods. Freak storms, spooky sounds in the night, and mysterious disappearances ensue. Almost immediately, ranger Bob suspects supernatural forces at work, which is weird considering he's supposed to be this hardened skeptic. But whatever. Instead of a stubborn mayor, Bob's boss is the park superintendent, and he is unwilling to close the grounds during the biggest summer yet. This book is like the mutant bastard child of "Jaws" and "Friday the 13th."
And I really liked it! The writing is actually quite good, very descriptive, and at times chilling, but it is never difficult to read. Hell, the narrator even calls "persuasive" a ten dollar word. The dialogue feels overall natural and believable, if not mundane at times.
Unfortunately, the plot is padded out incessantly. There is little to deserve the exact 400 pages of tiny font and narrow margins in this volume. As such, we get lengthy passages of guys ogling girls, a full political speech, almost the entire transcript of a documentary film, descriptions of various bodacious babes and blonde Adonis-types wearing Speedos, cranky men bitching about how things aren't the way they used to be, the main protagonist drinking beer (and lots of it), the introduction of random characters who add nothing to the plot, and the uninteresting interoffice drama of a state Department of Parks and Recreation.
But when this thing gets going, it's classic horror gold. It's not the scariest or the goriest of the classic paperbacks I've read, but there is something incredibly charming and comforting about this book, like watching a late career Roger Corman flick while eating your favorite pizza with stuffed crust.
Find yourself a copy of "Chumash," and I think it will scratch that nagging itch for campy thrills (pun intended).
June 7, 2008
From the back cover:
Ancient legends foretold their return. The Chumash Indians knew ages ago that the Great Eagle Spirit would wreak a terrible revenge on all who dared desecrate their lands.
Now the time has come.
I was looking for a schlocky horror tale to get me into the halloween spirit, and this did not disappoint
Ancient legends foretold their return. The Chumash Indians knew ages ago that the Great Eagle Spirit would wreak a terrible revenge on all who dared desecrate their lands.
Now the time has come.
I was looking for a schlocky horror tale to get me into the halloween spirit, and this did not disappoint
March 22, 2019
Garbage.
July 21, 2021
Did this not age well at all, or was it terrible from the start? You decide.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews