He lives in the mountains, in the jungles of Margal, the bocor, The Legless One.
Crippled, unable to move, Margal moves you instead, speaks to your mind, commands you to act. There are no doors you can lock to keep The Evil out, no barriers he cannot breach.
He calls to those he needs, and they must obey. You must obey the whispers in your mind and the visions he causes to appear.
Rivers rush, valleys flame, Margal touches your mind.
"The Evil" is not your everyday Paperback from Hell. This is a late-career novel by the legendary science fiction, fantasy, and horror writer Hugh B. Cave, perhaps best known for his weird fiction tales during the pulp era for numerous magazines. His most famous work may be the deliciously creepy vampire story "Murgunstrum," which I also have reviewed for Goodreads. After World War II, Cave spent a lot of time in Haiti researching voodoo, and from his real-life experiences, he published the nonfiction "Haiti--High Road to Adventure," as well as voodoo-based novels like "The Cross on the Drum" and this book that I'm discussing here.
The plot revolves around two groups of related people traveling to a remote mountainous region near the Dominican border. One is an agriculturalist trying to find a professor of philosophy who disappeared while on an expedition, and the other is a nurse trying to bring a little girl with amnesia back home to her village. They are to cross paths with a dangerous voodoo priest who rules these parts with the help of extraordinary powers. The result is a mishmash of genres resembling "Romancing the Stone" and "The Serpent and the Rainbow."
It was serendipitous that I read Robert Louis Stevenson's "The Bottle Imp" just before deciding to check this one out, as clearly Cave took some inspiration from the Stevenson story and even references it in the first third of the book. Life is funny that way.
"The Evil" certainly is an exercise in realism as much as it is 80's horror pop fiction. It is clear that Cave was intimately familiar with Haiti, its people, its culture, its language, and its potholes. The characters and settings are all painted with a vivid richness and with love. Never before have I read a novel that portrays everyday life in the modern Caribbean with such matter-of-fact sympathy despite the sensational and cliche subject matter. It makes for a joy to read, as you really feel transported to the nation's heartland as an everyday joe--hanging out with the locals, eating crispy but creamy fried malangas and good spicy goat stew--rather than as a tourist getting shit faced on the beach.
That being said, horror fans might find that the attention to detail and to character slows the progress of the action. The majority of the plot is simply people plodding down primitive roads, crossing treacherous mountain passes, and spending the night in the homes of various hospitable characters. A few supernatural perils are thrown at our protagonists along the way, but for the most part the novel is devoid of any real scares. There is certainly no gore or disturbing threats of violence. "The Evil" is primarily a love letter to a country and its people.
So if this doesn't sound like quite your thing, I still would recommend checking out Cave's extensive body of work. He continued to write and publish until he was about 90 years old, and old age never kept him from constantly innovating. He was even an early proponent of the e-book. Cave is certainly an influential literary treasure.
But if you are a paperback from hell collector and are looking for an entertaining and relaxing beach read, I encourage you to give this book a try.
I know Mr. Cave wrote this toward the end of his career, and he was mainly known outside of the horror genre, but The Evil is probably not the best introduction to his work. While well written and paced, and had voodoo has a major theme, this just was not scary, gory, or even very suspenseful. The only thing that kept me reading it was the depiction of Haiti, especially rural Haiti where most of the 'action' took place.
Our main protagonist, Sam, worked in Haiti for a few years helping farmers make the most with what they have; he is a doctor of horticulture at I presume the University of Vermont. On his tour there, he fell in love with an American nurse at a rural hospital, but she stayed on and he went back to the states. A few years later, he returns. Why? It turns out a fellow professor at Vermont 'had a thing' for ESP, etc., and wanted to research voodoo; after picking Sam's brain, away he went. Unfortunately, he seems to have disappeared and now his lovely daughter heads to Haiti to find him and Sam agrees to help...
Interesting set up, and Cave plays with a few story lines here, the nurse's tale in Haiti and Sam and company's quest to find her dad, and of course, some powerful voodoo priest also haunts the pages. Unlike most voodoo themed tales, Cave never even attempted to depict the nitty-gritty of voodoo and such, but made do with some oblique references to the 'gods' and ceremonies. Again, if it were not for the lovingly depicted rural Haiti, I probably would have put this down. Make no mistake-- The Evil reads nicely, but the love story between Sam and the nurse was a bit painful in its predictability as was the plot in general. If you are really into voodoo and Haiti, this might be worth a read; else, worth a pass. 2.5 stars, rounding up.
This is probably my favorite of the books by Hugh B. Cave that I have read. He really evokes the wonders and mysteries of Haiti -- you can tell there is a deep, abiding love of the Caribbean and its wonders -- both dark and beautiful -- here. Like most of his stories, I find the plot lacks a little something. Perhaps I just expect a touch more traditional Gothic than I get. Cave wrote many stories over a period of many years and was World Fantasy Award Winner. He also wrote cheesy sci-fi. I haven't read a Cave in many years; but I as I remember, I usually leave his stories or books scratching my head thinking it could've been better. And yet I am irresistably drawn to read them because of their atmsophere, dark and mystical with the Caribbean heat, and yet carrying the hope of the intense tropical sunshine.