Finding themselves suddenly possessed of uncanny visionary powers, David Lydard and Gabriel Gill are gradually drawn into a deadly contest between forces of godlike power and must seek help from a renegade werewolf
Brian Michael Stableford was a British science fiction writer who published more than 70 novels. His earlier books were published under the name Brian M. Stableford, but more recent ones have dropped the middle initial and appeared under the name Brian Stableford. He also used the pseudonym Brian Craig for a couple of very early works, and again for a few more recent works. The pseudonym derives from the first names of himself and of a school friend from the 1960s, Craig A. Mackintosh, with whom he jointly published some very early work.
I picked this one up from the charity bookstall in a local supermarket. This copy is falling to bits, is very, very foxed, and has some tears in it, leading me to realise just how long ago 1990 was for a cheap paperback book, and also to decide that this read is its last one, it's going to the great Pulper in the Sky (or in the paper recycling plant, one or the other). I decided to take a break from 'Babel' because I was taking a charity stall to a local craft fair and didn't want to take a hardback book to read. 'The Werewolves of London' was on the top of my tbr pile.
It's a slow paced novel that meanders around the question of Creationism, but not in the Christian sense; dipping into the nature of humanity, reality and individuality. The eponymous Werewolves of London take something of a back seat in the book, with the main characters being somewhat unsympathetic. I admit, I struggled to finish this book, but I was interested enough in the plot to battle through to the end. Another couple of co-incidences leapt out from this book. Firstly, the last book that I finished was King's 'IT', which featured a werewolf and a monstrous spider, as did this one. Secondly, the dedication mentioned the film 'Clash of the Titans' which I just watched all the way through for the first time ever.
I really wanted to like this book more, because I met Brian Stableford about twenty years ago, and he's a really nice man. There are also some beautiful sections of writing in this, some real scenes of tension and some fascinating ideas.
But...
What this needed was a stern editor with an extensive blue pencil. A lot of the scenes go on too long and don't really go anywhere, and then you have a conflagration at the end that doesn't seem to be set up.
And all of the characters seem to have no hinterland: the only conversations they have are about belief or unbelief, which means I'm afraid I don't really know them any better at the end than I do at the start, and therefore I don't really care.
In horror books, mythology has to be earned, or it has to be simple enough that we can all follow: this has angels, werewolves, a sphinx, demonic possession, Satan as a good guy, a gnostic demiurge, a deistic uninvolved God, a reconstituted Adam, I mean for Christ's sake....
So, sorry, Brian, this really isn't very good. The annoying thing is: it could have been, if an editor had just sat down with him and said "Focus on this, lose that...."
This book is for people who have a wealth of books under their belt, as well as an understanding of history, mythology, and psychology, with a penchant for the "weird". Anyone who says its "boring" reveals themselves to be a dullard, or were raised on R.L. Stein and don't have an ounce of wonder regarding our place in the universe. In my own dumbing down explanation, this book is not for people who think Tarantino makes good movies.
Too much philosophy, long extracts from other (in universe) books, not enough action. Confusing and disappointing. Probably only 1.5 stars really. If it had been half as long with the same ideas it would have been ok.
Minus two stars for being too blamed long, much of it being philosophy based on the contrary-to-fact story of the novel. But note the extract I've placed as a quote here.
I see from the back of my paperback that there are two more in a trilogy. Even had this one ended on a strong cliffhanger (what it ends on is hardly more than one among several hooks), I would refuse to commit to them. That much more cannot possibly be worth it either.
I really did try to follow this book, but I failed miserably. I mean, it's great if you like to read literary prose-style books in which a lot of words are used but nothing is really said, and this is one of them. Great for those that are used to authors of the 1800s style of writing.