This is the second Graham Masterton horror novel I've read, and so far, I am still a little unclear why he has such a dedicated following. I would say that this is an improvement over the first book of his that I reviewed, "Feast," but it suffers from many of the same problems. I will go into those issues later on. However, I do appreciate Masterton's skill at building intense scenes of horror that make you want to look away from your reading. He also knows how to craft an exciting adventure. I can see why he eventually abandoned much of the supernatural themes in his later-career stories and focused on his knack for crime thrillers, because "Death Trance" worked best when it capitalized on corporate conspiracies, international manhunts, and the gruesome crimes of sociopathic hitmen.
So before we get into the good and the bad, let's briefly talk about the plot. The book centers around a paunchy middle-aged owner of a Memphis cottonseed processing firm, Randolph Clare. He inherits the business from his father, and is on his way to making Clare Cottonseed one of the top dogs of the industry by undercutting and outpricing his competitors. This upsets the syndicate of white suits and Panama hats of the Cottonseed Association, who resort to sabotage and murder to ruin Randolph and his ambitions. Randolph's wife Marmie and his three children are brutally tortured and murdered by four crazed mercenaries hired by the Cottonseed Association. In his grief, Randolph enlists the help of an Indonesian doctor to help him find an "adept" in the slums of Bali, a Hindu priest who has been reputed to be able to guide folks through a sacred ritual called "the Death Trance" that allows them to visit their deceased loved ones. Randolph hopes to reunite with his family and learn the secret behind their murder. When the Cottonseed Association hears of this, a dangerous race ensues to get to Randolph's family first.
Now the negatives. This otherwise intriguing premise is littered with plot holes and mistakes. One of the silliest examples of awkward plot development, or lack thereof, is the aforementioned race between Randolph and the villains to get to Randolph's dead family. Randolph not only wants to see and touch his loved ones again, but he is relying on them to give him the evidence he needs to file charges against the Cottonseed Association. The bad guys, on the other hand, want to stop the family from squealing, since they were witnesses to who murdered them. This whole thing is nonsense. What is Randolph think he is going to do with any information he gets? Who will believe such evidence? "You see, Your Honor, I know they are guilty. My dead wife told me so from beyond the grave!" And the killers go traipsing into the cemetery armed with guns to interfere with the family's testimony. Just what do the bad guys think they can do to keep the dead from revealing the identities of their killers? Kidnap them? Shoot them? Say mean things?
Want more stupidity? In one scene, the bad guy threatens our hero's girlfriend, Wanda Burford (yeah, Randolph doesn't stay single long) with a pack of ferocious Dobermans by indicating that his henchman could "point at Miss Burford and say 'kill.'" Thing is, the henchman may certainly be able to point, but he won't be saying much. He's mute.
And though Randolph himself is a much more sympathetic character than the main protagonist in "Feast," he's equally as thick as a brick. He constantly puts himself in harm's way by making bone-headed decisions, announcing his plans to his enemies by yapping to anyone who will listen, and refusing to believe the hired guns that murdered his family don't want to do the same to him. Perhaps he is a genius with corporate finances, but he is otherwise quite cognitively challenged.
Yet oddly enough, as dumb as this book gets, there are moments of genuine intelligence. Here's where we get to the good stuff. The writing is quite competent, particularly in its treatment of characters. One of the sleazy, glutinous, and rotund southern good-ol-boys of the Cottonseed Club is described as "oleaginous." Wonderful! Randolph's wife is described as a tough woman looking forward to the years ahead instead of the years behind after recently recovering from a middle-aged identity crisis: "She had emerged from self-doubt and dissatisfaction like someone newly born, someone who realizes that every human life consists of several different lives and that the arrival of each new one is an event to be welcomed." The main villain is a complex character who only appears to have a singular and ruthless focus on wealth until you realize that he is burdened with an old but deep injury to his narcissism that has driven him mad after his buttons get pushed by the success of Clare Cottonseed. Michael, the Hindu "adept" who carries the secret of the Death Trance, is a far older character than his years, burdened by the suicide of his father, his isolation from his community because of his "half-caste" racial status, and his experiences with the horrors of the world of the dead. He could have been made into a very annoying, mopey personality, but he is one of the few comedic voices of an otherwise straight-laced novel, delivering tasteful gallows humor while chain-smoking Lion cigarettes during moments of terror and suspense. Even minor characters get a chance to shine such as Randolph's general practitioner--well-meaning, but cynical from his years of fighting illness and death with his patients.
"Bring the man a bowl of Rice Krispies and some fruit," the doctor says to a nurse.
"Miles, I never eat Rice Krispies," Randolph protests.
"Quiet, or you'll get Count Chokula instead."
I found the scenes in Bali, full of rich descriptions of the culture, religions, mythology, people, and cuisine to be fascinating. Yet if Masterton was as "accurate" at portraying Indonesia or Hindu beliefs in this book as he was with Cajun and New Orleans culture in "Feast," then his depictions will likely provide little charm for those of you in the know.
But most importantly for you horror fans, the book was genuinely frightening and disturbing. Particularly effective were the scenes of torture and murder by the human villains, which shared parallels with the atrocities from the supernatural dangers. It was not so much the gore that led to such a visceral impact, but the destruction of the humanity of otherwise sympathetic characters. As the narrative voice states towards the close of this book, "dignity was not just a word, not just a quality, but the essential ingredient of human existence." Therefore, the violation of human dignity was the main crime for both human and mythologic monsters in this story.
Overall, I enjoyed "Death Trance" and would certainly recommend it to fans of the horror genre, but I have yet to discover why Graham Masterton has had such an enduring legacy. Stay tuned as I delve further into the works of this author in future reviews.