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Duke de Richleau #6
The Devil Rides Out
29 Apr 1935 - 4 May 1935
Black Magic is still practised in all the great cities of the world. This novel tells with macabre detail of a beautiful woman caught in a web of Satanists, of a young man brought to the verge of madness through his dabbling with the powers of evil.
As in Dennis Wheatley's The Forbidden Territory we meet the Duke de Richleau, Simon Aron, the Princess Marie Lou, and other characters. From London to the West Country, from the slums of Paris to a Christian monastery, the action of this powerful occult thriller moves with fantastic, compelling force..
Black Magic is still practised in all the great cities of the world. This novel tells with macabre detail of a beautiful woman caught in a web of Satanists, of a young man brought to the verge of madness through his dabbling with the powers of evil.
As in Dennis Wheatley's The Forbidden Territory we meet the Duke de Richleau, Simon Aron, the Princess Marie Lou, and other characters. From London to the West Country, from the slums of Paris to a Christian monastery, the action of this powerful occult thriller moves with fantastic, compelling force..
320 pages, Paperback
First published December 1, 1934
147 people are currently reading
3591 people want to read
About the author
Dennis Wheatley
380 books247 followersDennis Yates Wheatley (8 January 1897 – 10 November 1977) [Born: Dennis Yeats Wheatley] was an English author. His prolific output of stylish thrillers and occult novels made him one of the world's best-selling authors in the 1950s and 1960s.
His first book, Three Inquisitive People, was not immediately published; but his first published novel, The Forbidden Territory, was an immediate success when published in 1933, being reprinted seven times in seven weeks.
He wrote adventure stories, with many books in a series of linked works. His plots covered the French Revolution (Roger Brook Series), Satanism (Duc de Richleau), World War II (Gregory Sallust) and espionage (Julian Day).
In the thirties, he conceived a series of whodunit mysteries, presented as case files, with testimonies, letters, pieces of evidence such as hairs or pills. The reader had to go through the evidence to solve the mystery before unsealing the last pages of the file, which gave the answer. Four of these 'Crime Dossiers' were published: Murder Off Miami, Who Killed Robert Prentice, The Malinsay Massacre, and Herewith The Clues.
In the 1960s his publishers were selling a million copies of his books per year. A small number of his books were made into films by Hammer, of which the best known is The Devil Rides Out (book 1934, film 1968). His writing is very descriptive and in many works he manages to introduce his characters into real events while meeting real people. For example, in the Roger Brook series the main character involves himself with Napoleon, and Joséphine whilst being a spy for the Prime Minister William Pitt. Similarly, in the Gregory Sallust series, Sallust shares an evening meal with Hermann Göring.
He also wrote non-fiction works, including accounts of the Russian Revolution and King Charles II, and his autobiography. He was considered an authority on the supernatural, satanism, the practice of exorcism, and black magic, to all of which he was hostile. During his study of the paranormal, though, he joined the Ghost Club.
From 1974 through 1977 he edited a series of 45 paperback reprints for the British publisher Sphere under the heading "The Dennis Wheatley Library of the Occult", selecting the titles and writing short introductions for each book. This series included both occult-themed novels by the likes of Bram Stoker and Aleister Crowley and non-fiction works on magic, occultism, and divination by authors such as the Theosophist H. P. Blavatsky, the historian Maurice Magre, the magician Isaac Bonewits, and the palm-reader Cheiro.
Two weeks before his death in November 1977, Wheatley received conditional absolution from his old friend Cyril ‘Bobby’ Eastaugh, the Bishop of Peterborough.
His estate library was sold in a catalogue sale by Basil Blackwell's in the 1970s, indicating a thoroughly well-read individual with wide-ranging interests particularly in historical fiction and Europe. His influence has declined, partly due to difficulties in reprinting his works owing to copyright problems.
Fifty-two of Wheatley's novels were published posthumously in a set by Heron Books UK. More recently, in April 2008 Dennis Wheatley's literary estate was acquired by media company Chorion.
He invented a number of board games including Invasion.
-Wikipedia
His first book, Three Inquisitive People, was not immediately published; but his first published novel, The Forbidden Territory, was an immediate success when published in 1933, being reprinted seven times in seven weeks.
He wrote adventure stories, with many books in a series of linked works. His plots covered the French Revolution (Roger Brook Series), Satanism (Duc de Richleau), World War II (Gregory Sallust) and espionage (Julian Day).
In the thirties, he conceived a series of whodunit mysteries, presented as case files, with testimonies, letters, pieces of evidence such as hairs or pills. The reader had to go through the evidence to solve the mystery before unsealing the last pages of the file, which gave the answer. Four of these 'Crime Dossiers' were published: Murder Off Miami, Who Killed Robert Prentice, The Malinsay Massacre, and Herewith The Clues.
In the 1960s his publishers were selling a million copies of his books per year. A small number of his books were made into films by Hammer, of which the best known is The Devil Rides Out (book 1934, film 1968). His writing is very descriptive and in many works he manages to introduce his characters into real events while meeting real people. For example, in the Roger Brook series the main character involves himself with Napoleon, and Joséphine whilst being a spy for the Prime Minister William Pitt. Similarly, in the Gregory Sallust series, Sallust shares an evening meal with Hermann Göring.
He also wrote non-fiction works, including accounts of the Russian Revolution and King Charles II, and his autobiography. He was considered an authority on the supernatural, satanism, the practice of exorcism, and black magic, to all of which he was hostile. During his study of the paranormal, though, he joined the Ghost Club.
From 1974 through 1977 he edited a series of 45 paperback reprints for the British publisher Sphere under the heading "The Dennis Wheatley Library of the Occult", selecting the titles and writing short introductions for each book. This series included both occult-themed novels by the likes of Bram Stoker and Aleister Crowley and non-fiction works on magic, occultism, and divination by authors such as the Theosophist H. P. Blavatsky, the historian Maurice Magre, the magician Isaac Bonewits, and the palm-reader Cheiro.
Two weeks before his death in November 1977, Wheatley received conditional absolution from his old friend Cyril ‘Bobby’ Eastaugh, the Bishop of Peterborough.
His estate library was sold in a catalogue sale by Basil Blackwell's in the 1970s, indicating a thoroughly well-read individual with wide-ranging interests particularly in historical fiction and Europe. His influence has declined, partly due to difficulties in reprinting his works owing to copyright problems.
Fifty-two of Wheatley's novels were published posthumously in a set by Heron Books UK. More recently, in April 2008 Dennis Wheatley's literary estate was acquired by media company Chorion.
He invented a number of board games including Invasion.
-Wikipedia
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 267 reviews
February 11, 2020
A tale of upper-class Satanists who, while pursuing their decorous mischief, make the mistake of targeting one of the three good friends of the esteemed occultist and adventurer, the Duc de Richleau.
Although the tale is old fashioned, and the novel is marred by casual English public school snobbery and xenophobia, it cannot be denied that Wheatley really knows how to tell a story, and that the elegant Duc de Richleau, touring the rural roads of England in his Hispano-Suiza, is a memorable aristocratic hero.
Check out the 1968 movie version too (sometimes called The Devil's Bride in the USA). It is probably my favorite Hammer film, and stars Christopher Lee as the Duke.
February 8, 2025
Have you read anything by Dennis Wheatley?
For English readers of a certain age, the name will instantly conjure up rows upon rows of black-spined paperbacks in bookshops and libraries. Yet now his name is as little known as Edgar Wallace or Francis Durbridge: two equally famous and lauded writers of English mysteries. Dennis Wheatley did not write mysteries however. He wrote adventure stories, his most phenomenally popular ones being, surprisingly for such a staid writer with conservative views, about black magic and witchcraft. The most famous of these, and the one most people read first, is The Devil Rides Out.
For 40 years Dennis Wheatley was one of England’s most popular writers, selling 20 million books. Most of us reading him knew how to suspend our disbelief, and hugely enjoyed the nail-biting terror which he conjured up in his writing. Similar in a way to Dan Brown in pseudo-esotericism, Dennis Wheatley gives the impression of saturating his novels with facts, and conveying the sense of a very real threat, without being gratuitously explicit. We never have the sense we do with modern horror novels, that the events disgust and revolt us, and never truly engage us. With a novel by Dennis Wheatley, we will be riveted to the page; terrified more than revolted. His is a terror of the mind.
My introduction to Dennis Wheatley’s books was through curiosity. Those black-spined books were intriguing to a young teenager, although I did not know anyone who had read him. Out of my acquaintances, some disapproved because of his subject material, and the more consciously intellectual ones laughed at the idea, because he was so populist. There was a warning printed on each of the books, with a mock signature by the man himself underneath:
“Should any of my readers incline to a serious study of the subject, and thus come into contact with a man or woman of Power, I feel that it is only right to urge them, most strongly, to refrain from being drawn into the practice of the Secret Art in any way. My own observations have led me to an absolute conviction that to do so would bring them into dangers of a very real and concrete nature.”
Laughable to cynical youngsters who felt themselves educated. So was this a clever piece of salesmanship? Or was he writing to scare the living daylights out of his readers? I was never quite sure, but it certainly worked in my case. I devoured every single book I could find by him with a whiff of the occult about it, accidentally also taking in a few straight adventure stories by the way. Those did not intrigue me as much, but at that time reading a series in order was not usual practice. In fact it was quite difficult to organise, unlike now, when most of us have instant access to thousands of books.
The adventure stories themselves had a huge influence on British fiction, as Dennis Wheatley’s invented hero Gregory Sallust had his own series of books, and was one of the main inspirations for Ian Fleming’s James Bond stories. But that is another story, and this review is dealing with Dennis Wheatley’s most famous occult novel The Devil Rides Out. Written in 1934, it was indeed shocking and terrifying, and the film of it, released by Hammer (of course) in 1967 scared its audiences as much as the original novel had done. Christopher Lee cites The Devil Rides Out as the favourite film he acted in for Hammer studios, out of many. I do wonder if this is because for once, he was cast without his trademark fangs, as the gallant hero, rather than Dracula or a minion of the Devil, as usual.
Another notable film in this genre was made in the same year as The Devil Rides Out, and that was “Rosemary’s Baby”, from the (also terrifying) novel by Ira Levin. Both films brought Satan out of the shadows, and shocked audiences, although I felt that the friends I saw “Rosemary’s Baby” with were not particularly fazed, and seemed to view it as pulp. The double bill also included Lindsay Anderson’s savage and subversive film “if….”, whose violently satirical picture of English public school life perhaps spoke to their own experiences more closely than the possible spawning of the Devil. Perhaps this was a rare case of a gender difference in our reactions, as I was the only female in our small group.
In a similar way, Dennis Wheatley’s life experiences informed his choice of subject matter in his novels of the occult. Readers coming across him now may be surprised that his novels are all populated with wealthy characters. Money is no problem to them; neither is their work. The best hotels are at their beck and call, cars and private planes no problem, Customs got through in a jiffy …. in fact we have the decided sense that with the right word to the right person, all life’s little annoyances can be easily dealt with, in order to concentrate on the deadly business in hand.
In The Devil Rides Out there are three well-heeled heroes whom we may know and love from several of his books. First and central to the story, always in charge is the Duke de Richleau, an English Nationalised French Count with a chequered past. He is banned from ever returning to the country of his birth. Next is Rex van Ryn, an American army officer; addicted to excitement and speed, and whose bravery is without question. Third comes Simon Aron, a young Jewish man whom the Duke has taken under his wing. He is a refreshing character, given all the novels’ heavily Christian - specifically Catholic - based rituals. The Devil Rides Out also features Richard Eaton, his wife Marie and tiny daughter, all of whom just happen to be immensely rich, and live in an enormous pile: a country mansion and estate the National Trust would no doubt give their eye teeth for. It’s a privileged circle, very select, slightly xenophobic as those of that class and time usually were, and sometimes misogynistic - although it has to be said that the character of Marie is every bit as plucky as her male comrades. A novel by Dennis Wheatley will appeal most to those who used to read “Boys Own” type spiffing stories, or Dan Dare. Our leaders are gentlemen, who will protect our traditions, and preserve the British way, so that nothing will be allowed to disturb the status quo. This is without question the right way of doing things.
This pretty much accorded with Dennis Wheatley’s own beliefs, although he was not born in these favoured circles. Dennis Wheatley’s father was a wine merchant, who sold fine wines to the aristocracy and royalty of Europe. Dennis Wheatley was commissioned as an officer in the First World War, which gave him an advantage socially. When the family business ran into trouble, Dennis Wheatley had the brilliant idea of grafting a literature of the occult on to a thriller. He then hit a winner in 1934 with The Devil Rides Out. At this time, between two World Wars, crime fiction throughout Europe was enormously popular, with the equally conservative-minded and privileged Agatha Christie as its Queen of Crime.
Since the Nazis are mentioned in the novel it is as well to bear in mind that this was before the Second World War. The Duke de Richleau understands the rising Nazism, and their despicable misappropriation of the Swastika, from a symbol of divinity and spirituality: with mystical significance for several Indian religions. Dennis Wheatley himself was hired by MI5 as an established author to dream up scenarios, speculating on the likelihood of a German invasion and how to combat it. These secret papers were very impractical, and read like drafts of his later fiction. Like W. Somerset Maugham, Graham Greene and John Le Carré, Dennis Wheatley’s career was influenced by his Intelligence contacts. Later he moved on to deception strategies, including the idea of creating a rumour of the arrival of a pacifist Messiah in Nazi Germany.
As well as our quartet of heroes in The Devil Rides Out, we also have a group of Satanists led by a man called Mocata (who was loosely based on “the wickedest man in the world” Aleister Crowley). Canon Damien Mocata had once been an officiating priest at a church in Lyons when he was young. But he fell from grace, and left after a scandal. With such a background, he was well able to twist his skills, and become an experienced practitioner of the Black Arts. He has a psychic connection to two other characters . The novel is about how they attempt to prevent the Dark Forces from taking the soul of one who is threatened. It is thrilling, involving chases across the continent as well as parts set on Salisbury Plain, known as a site for pagan rituals to this very day.
Dennis Wheatley did not invent his own mythology, as H.P. Lovecraft did. He wrote as an informed insider, who knew Satanists in real life. He was personally acquainted with Aleister Crowley and also the most renowned occult expert at the time, the Reverend Montague Summers, who translated the “Malleus Maleficarum”: a witchhunter’s ”bible”, used by both Catholics and Protestants. First published in 1486, it includes everything known at the time about cults, illicit sex, dealings with the devil, and so on.
Dennis Wheatley was the author of several scholarly non-fiction works for “The Dennis Wheatley Library of the Occult”. He was also a member of a paranormal investigative society formed in London in the mid-1800s,“The Ghost Club”. It was easy enough for a talented storyteller like Dennis Wheatley to create plausible sounding stories. He would specify exactly how to summon Satan, not holding back from describing the diabolical presence incarnate. We read of an outdoor Gnostic rite: a reverse Roman Catholic mass, in which everything is done exactly backwards, in a “frightful parody of the things [believers] had been taught to hold sacred in childhood”. So the participants gorged themselves with food and drink first, naked under the illumination of a burning cauldron and candlelight, before they conjured the Satanic presence. They danced anti-clockwise to a harsh, discordant jumble of notes and broken chords, while the devil manifested itself as a grinning Goat of Mendes, who “rattled and clacked its monstrous cloven hoofs together and gave a weird laughing neigh in a mockery of applause”.
With increasing tension, we perceive the ensuing chaos, no longer directed at just a few; not random acts of rape and carnage, cannibalism, mutilation of babies and so on, but now applied on a massive scale across all humanity and time. Nature now no longer a neutral force, but twisted to an evil purpose.
Dennis Wheatley knew how to scare us. His insistence that he “never assisted at, or participated in, any ceremony connected with Magic-Black or White,” allied with his assurance of “ample evidence that Black Magic is still practised in London, and other cities, at the present day” is calculated to appeal to the gullible. His novels appeared to be dangerous because he was so well-informed, and hinted cleverly at depravity, without detailing it. The Duke de Richleau spent a great deal of time (in every novel) convincing those characters (and readers) who scoff at occult matters, of their veracity, by a long list of catalogued dates and events. A typical statement is this cleverly suggestive:
“Yet it is not only in Africa that such abominations are practised. A few years ago women were giving themselves up to hideous eroticism with a great carved ebony figure, during Satanic orgies held in a secret temple in Bayswater, London W2.”
This mixture of specific and general, with overt but unclear references to depravity is unmistakably and quintessentially Dennis Wheatley. He could never be termed literary, but has a distinctive style. And because of his background, readers take a good deal on trust: happy to immerse ourselves in the seemingly forbidden dimension that Dennis Wheatley is showing us.
There are definite echoes of the earlier English fantasy writer, William Hope Hodgson with his fictional occult detective, Thomas Carnacki. Carnacki invented an electric pentacle to repel evil. Dennis Wheatley’s aristocratic hero the Duke de Richleau may not have the latest device, but his preparations for are equally meticulous, and involve the construction of a pentacle.
The Duke measures a perfect circle seven feet in diameter, marking it in chalk and drawing a five-pointed star inside. It is done with geometrical precision, or else the pentacle could be dangerous. Inside the circumference he writes an exorcism, along with other ancient symbols including: “Cabbalistic signs taken from the Sephirotic Tree; Kether, Binah, Ceburah, Hod, Malchut,” the Eye of Horus and some ancient Aryan script.
The Duke seals the windows with asafoetida grass and blue wax and makes the sign of the Cross in holy water over every entrance and doorway. He sets five white tapering candles at each apex of the five-pointed star, along with five horseshoes with their ends pointing outwards, plus five dried mandrakes: four females and one male, in a vase of holy water. Finally, he strings garlic for everyone. The descriptions of rituals like this are laborious, but strangely fascinating, as they are in “Carnacki the Ghost Hunter”.
Dennis Wheatley's hero the Duke de Richleau might represent England, Queen and country, with his stiff upper lip, and celebration of the British Empire, but his knowledge of Eastern magic seems impressive. He explains:
“Heaven and Hell are only symbolical of growth to Light or disintegration to Darkness. There is no such person as the Devil, but there are vast numbers of Earthbound spirits, Elementals, and Evil Intelligences of the Outer Circle floating in our midst. But anyone who accepts Satanic baptism does exactly the reverse. They willfully destroy the barrier of astral Light which is our natural protection and offer themselves as a medium through which the powers of Darkness may operate on mankind.”
This appealing idealogy also lends itself to being used by the Satanists, who of course argue that our ideas are all misconceived. Mocata seductively says that magic is neither good nor evil. It is “only the science of causing change to occur by means of will”.
An unspeakable world, yet Dennis Wheatley makes it seem so plausible that it is like a nightmarish daydream. A mix of pulp and esoteric doctrine, resulting in a winning formula. He looked the part to the end of his days, wearing a smoking jacket, and smoking cigars, as he enjoyed sampling wines from his well-stocked cellar.
But was it all bluff? I notice the date. In an odd quirk of fate, I am writing this on “Walpurgisnacht”, the most potent time to summon demonic powers through abominable rituals. How strange. And what a good job I am not superstitious.
For English readers of a certain age, the name will instantly conjure up rows upon rows of black-spined paperbacks in bookshops and libraries. Yet now his name is as little known as Edgar Wallace or Francis Durbridge: two equally famous and lauded writers of English mysteries. Dennis Wheatley did not write mysteries however. He wrote adventure stories, his most phenomenally popular ones being, surprisingly for such a staid writer with conservative views, about black magic and witchcraft. The most famous of these, and the one most people read first, is The Devil Rides Out.
For 40 years Dennis Wheatley was one of England’s most popular writers, selling 20 million books. Most of us reading him knew how to suspend our disbelief, and hugely enjoyed the nail-biting terror which he conjured up in his writing. Similar in a way to Dan Brown in pseudo-esotericism, Dennis Wheatley gives the impression of saturating his novels with facts, and conveying the sense of a very real threat, without being gratuitously explicit. We never have the sense we do with modern horror novels, that the events disgust and revolt us, and never truly engage us. With a novel by Dennis Wheatley, we will be riveted to the page; terrified more than revolted. His is a terror of the mind.
My introduction to Dennis Wheatley’s books was through curiosity. Those black-spined books were intriguing to a young teenager, although I did not know anyone who had read him. Out of my acquaintances, some disapproved because of his subject material, and the more consciously intellectual ones laughed at the idea, because he was so populist. There was a warning printed on each of the books, with a mock signature by the man himself underneath:
“Should any of my readers incline to a serious study of the subject, and thus come into contact with a man or woman of Power, I feel that it is only right to urge them, most strongly, to refrain from being drawn into the practice of the Secret Art in any way. My own observations have led me to an absolute conviction that to do so would bring them into dangers of a very real and concrete nature.”
Laughable to cynical youngsters who felt themselves educated. So was this a clever piece of salesmanship? Or was he writing to scare the living daylights out of his readers? I was never quite sure, but it certainly worked in my case. I devoured every single book I could find by him with a whiff of the occult about it, accidentally also taking in a few straight adventure stories by the way. Those did not intrigue me as much, but at that time reading a series in order was not usual practice. In fact it was quite difficult to organise, unlike now, when most of us have instant access to thousands of books.
The adventure stories themselves had a huge influence on British fiction, as Dennis Wheatley’s invented hero Gregory Sallust had his own series of books, and was one of the main inspirations for Ian Fleming’s James Bond stories. But that is another story, and this review is dealing with Dennis Wheatley’s most famous occult novel The Devil Rides Out. Written in 1934, it was indeed shocking and terrifying, and the film of it, released by Hammer (of course) in 1967 scared its audiences as much as the original novel had done. Christopher Lee cites The Devil Rides Out as the favourite film he acted in for Hammer studios, out of many. I do wonder if this is because for once, he was cast without his trademark fangs, as the gallant hero, rather than Dracula or a minion of the Devil, as usual.
Another notable film in this genre was made in the same year as The Devil Rides Out, and that was “Rosemary’s Baby”, from the (also terrifying) novel by Ira Levin. Both films brought Satan out of the shadows, and shocked audiences, although I felt that the friends I saw “Rosemary’s Baby” with were not particularly fazed, and seemed to view it as pulp. The double bill also included Lindsay Anderson’s savage and subversive film “if….”, whose violently satirical picture of English public school life perhaps spoke to their own experiences more closely than the possible spawning of the Devil. Perhaps this was a rare case of a gender difference in our reactions, as I was the only female in our small group.
In a similar way, Dennis Wheatley’s life experiences informed his choice of subject matter in his novels of the occult. Readers coming across him now may be surprised that his novels are all populated with wealthy characters. Money is no problem to them; neither is their work. The best hotels are at their beck and call, cars and private planes no problem, Customs got through in a jiffy …. in fact we have the decided sense that with the right word to the right person, all life’s little annoyances can be easily dealt with, in order to concentrate on the deadly business in hand.
In The Devil Rides Out there are three well-heeled heroes whom we may know and love from several of his books. First and central to the story, always in charge is the Duke de Richleau, an English Nationalised French Count with a chequered past. He is banned from ever returning to the country of his birth. Next is Rex van Ryn, an American army officer; addicted to excitement and speed, and whose bravery is without question. Third comes Simon Aron, a young Jewish man whom the Duke has taken under his wing. He is a refreshing character, given all the novels’ heavily Christian - specifically Catholic - based rituals. The Devil Rides Out also features Richard Eaton, his wife Marie and tiny daughter, all of whom just happen to be immensely rich, and live in an enormous pile: a country mansion and estate the National Trust would no doubt give their eye teeth for. It’s a privileged circle, very select, slightly xenophobic as those of that class and time usually were, and sometimes misogynistic - although it has to be said that the character of Marie is every bit as plucky as her male comrades. A novel by Dennis Wheatley will appeal most to those who used to read “Boys Own” type spiffing stories, or Dan Dare. Our leaders are gentlemen, who will protect our traditions, and preserve the British way, so that nothing will be allowed to disturb the status quo. This is without question the right way of doing things.
This pretty much accorded with Dennis Wheatley’s own beliefs, although he was not born in these favoured circles. Dennis Wheatley’s father was a wine merchant, who sold fine wines to the aristocracy and royalty of Europe. Dennis Wheatley was commissioned as an officer in the First World War, which gave him an advantage socially. When the family business ran into trouble, Dennis Wheatley had the brilliant idea of grafting a literature of the occult on to a thriller. He then hit a winner in 1934 with The Devil Rides Out. At this time, between two World Wars, crime fiction throughout Europe was enormously popular, with the equally conservative-minded and privileged Agatha Christie as its Queen of Crime.
Since the Nazis are mentioned in the novel it is as well to bear in mind that this was before the Second World War. The Duke de Richleau understands the rising Nazism, and their despicable misappropriation of the Swastika, from a symbol of divinity and spirituality: with mystical significance for several Indian religions. Dennis Wheatley himself was hired by MI5 as an established author to dream up scenarios, speculating on the likelihood of a German invasion and how to combat it. These secret papers were very impractical, and read like drafts of his later fiction. Like W. Somerset Maugham, Graham Greene and John Le Carré, Dennis Wheatley’s career was influenced by his Intelligence contacts. Later he moved on to deception strategies, including the idea of creating a rumour of the arrival of a pacifist Messiah in Nazi Germany.
As well as our quartet of heroes in The Devil Rides Out, we also have a group of Satanists led by a man called Mocata (who was loosely based on “the wickedest man in the world” Aleister Crowley). Canon Damien Mocata had once been an officiating priest at a church in Lyons when he was young. But he fell from grace, and left after a scandal. With such a background, he was well able to twist his skills, and become an experienced practitioner of the Black Arts. He has a psychic connection to two other characters . The novel is about how they attempt to prevent the Dark Forces from taking the soul of one who is threatened. It is thrilling, involving chases across the continent as well as parts set on Salisbury Plain, known as a site for pagan rituals to this very day.
Dennis Wheatley did not invent his own mythology, as H.P. Lovecraft did. He wrote as an informed insider, who knew Satanists in real life. He was personally acquainted with Aleister Crowley and also the most renowned occult expert at the time, the Reverend Montague Summers, who translated the “Malleus Maleficarum”: a witchhunter’s ”bible”, used by both Catholics and Protestants. First published in 1486, it includes everything known at the time about cults, illicit sex, dealings with the devil, and so on.
Dennis Wheatley was the author of several scholarly non-fiction works for “The Dennis Wheatley Library of the Occult”. He was also a member of a paranormal investigative society formed in London in the mid-1800s,“The Ghost Club”. It was easy enough for a talented storyteller like Dennis Wheatley to create plausible sounding stories. He would specify exactly how to summon Satan, not holding back from describing the diabolical presence incarnate. We read of an outdoor Gnostic rite: a reverse Roman Catholic mass, in which everything is done exactly backwards, in a “frightful parody of the things [believers] had been taught to hold sacred in childhood”. So the participants gorged themselves with food and drink first, naked under the illumination of a burning cauldron and candlelight, before they conjured the Satanic presence. They danced anti-clockwise to a harsh, discordant jumble of notes and broken chords, while the devil manifested itself as a grinning Goat of Mendes, who “rattled and clacked its monstrous cloven hoofs together and gave a weird laughing neigh in a mockery of applause”.
With increasing tension, we perceive the ensuing chaos, no longer directed at just a few; not random acts of rape and carnage, cannibalism, mutilation of babies and so on, but now applied on a massive scale across all humanity and time. Nature now no longer a neutral force, but twisted to an evil purpose.
Dennis Wheatley knew how to scare us. His insistence that he “never assisted at, or participated in, any ceremony connected with Magic-Black or White,” allied with his assurance of “ample evidence that Black Magic is still practised in London, and other cities, at the present day” is calculated to appeal to the gullible. His novels appeared to be dangerous because he was so well-informed, and hinted cleverly at depravity, without detailing it. The Duke de Richleau spent a great deal of time (in every novel) convincing those characters (and readers) who scoff at occult matters, of their veracity, by a long list of catalogued dates and events. A typical statement is this cleverly suggestive:
“Yet it is not only in Africa that such abominations are practised. A few years ago women were giving themselves up to hideous eroticism with a great carved ebony figure, during Satanic orgies held in a secret temple in Bayswater, London W2.”
This mixture of specific and general, with overt but unclear references to depravity is unmistakably and quintessentially Dennis Wheatley. He could never be termed literary, but has a distinctive style. And because of his background, readers take a good deal on trust: happy to immerse ourselves in the seemingly forbidden dimension that Dennis Wheatley is showing us.
There are definite echoes of the earlier English fantasy writer, William Hope Hodgson with his fictional occult detective, Thomas Carnacki. Carnacki invented an electric pentacle to repel evil. Dennis Wheatley’s aristocratic hero the Duke de Richleau may not have the latest device, but his preparations for are equally meticulous, and involve the construction of a pentacle.
The Duke measures a perfect circle seven feet in diameter, marking it in chalk and drawing a five-pointed star inside. It is done with geometrical precision, or else the pentacle could be dangerous. Inside the circumference he writes an exorcism, along with other ancient symbols including: “Cabbalistic signs taken from the Sephirotic Tree; Kether, Binah, Ceburah, Hod, Malchut,” the Eye of Horus and some ancient Aryan script.
The Duke seals the windows with asafoetida grass and blue wax and makes the sign of the Cross in holy water over every entrance and doorway. He sets five white tapering candles at each apex of the five-pointed star, along with five horseshoes with their ends pointing outwards, plus five dried mandrakes: four females and one male, in a vase of holy water. Finally, he strings garlic for everyone. The descriptions of rituals like this are laborious, but strangely fascinating, as they are in “Carnacki the Ghost Hunter”.
Dennis Wheatley's hero the Duke de Richleau might represent England, Queen and country, with his stiff upper lip, and celebration of the British Empire, but his knowledge of Eastern magic seems impressive. He explains:
“Heaven and Hell are only symbolical of growth to Light or disintegration to Darkness. There is no such person as the Devil, but there are vast numbers of Earthbound spirits, Elementals, and Evil Intelligences of the Outer Circle floating in our midst. But anyone who accepts Satanic baptism does exactly the reverse. They willfully destroy the barrier of astral Light which is our natural protection and offer themselves as a medium through which the powers of Darkness may operate on mankind.”
This appealing idealogy also lends itself to being used by the Satanists, who of course argue that our ideas are all misconceived. Mocata seductively says that magic is neither good nor evil. It is “only the science of causing change to occur by means of will”.
An unspeakable world, yet Dennis Wheatley makes it seem so plausible that it is like a nightmarish daydream. A mix of pulp and esoteric doctrine, resulting in a winning formula. He looked the part to the end of his days, wearing a smoking jacket, and smoking cigars, as he enjoyed sampling wines from his well-stocked cellar.
But was it all bluff? I notice the date. In an odd quirk of fate, I am writing this on “Walpurgisnacht”, the most potent time to summon demonic powers through abominable rituals. How strange. And what a good job I am not superstitious.
November 10, 2009
I picked up a set of Dennis Wheatley paperbacks recently a car boot sale for a few pounds. They were sixties editions, bashed about a bit, pages yellowing, with faded covers depicting pistol-toting Tom Jones-type men and scantily-clad women clutching bed-sheets to their bosoms, wrapped in a thick elastic band (the books, not the bosoms). A sudden wave of pure pleasure swept over me as the floodgates of memory opened, drowning present cares with images of happy school holidays spent in the company of the suave and sophisticated Duc de Richelieu and the dashing Roger Brook, whilst my ignorant chums wasted their time on comics and the telly.
To me, as a child growing up in the sixties, every bookshelf seemed to include at least five or six Georgette Heyers, and as an adolescent I used to sneak a look at them in search of racy bits, though I was always disappointed, despite the lurid bedroom scenes of half-naked damsels and Regency beaus on their dustcovers. I pretty soon discovered, however, that the Wheatleys contained far naughtier bits. Within the pages of his thrillers one could always expect something about heaving, half-exposed bosoms or seductively pale thighs, and the hero's fingers would often be found lingering in such places, when not fingering the pommel of a sword or the trigger of a pistol.
These novels were written in less complicated days, and Wheatley was unapologetic for - or probably simply unaware of - any offence he might be causing to ethnic minorities and people who had to work for a living. None of his heroes ever did what you or I would think of as work. They were all fabulously rich and handsome, and spent a large part of their time drinking cocktails, donning evening-gowns and smoking-jackets, eating exquisite foods and puffing on the most expensive cigars. When, that is, they weren't dealing with Satanists and Nazis and teaching them a thing or two about Imperial British values and the difference between right and wrong.
By modern thriller standards, Wheatley is perhaps rather slow in getting on with the story, and his characters have a habit of lecturing one another rather than holding a proper conversation. The historical background is usually introduced not incidentally and gradually as a part of the natural texture as the story unfolds, but as the sort of lesson a rather stiff teacher might deliver at school, put into the mouth of one character in response to some pertinent query by another. 'But how on earth did Germany, the country of Goethe and Mozart, arrive at such a sorry state?' would be a typical trigger, precursor to half a dozen dense pages about the rise of the Third Reich that have no direct bearing on the plot, and by the end of which you've either dozed off or have had to glance back to pick up the thread.
I think that the chief appeal of Dennis Wheatley nowadays, at least for me, is that he offers an illusion of moral certainty in the face of that peculiar curse of modern life, relative values. For him, there are no compensating circumstances to a case. Some things are right and other things are just plain wrong, and the perpetrators of the latter are the clear villains of the piece and therefore bound for a sticky end. Political correctness was a completely alien concept to him, and he would no doubt have identified it as a major cause of the rot when it came to the decline and fall of the British Empire. Nazis, Communists, Socialists, Uppity Minorities of all shades and persuasions - these were basically a Bad Lot as far as he was concerned, and he was not the sort to bow to public opinion on such matters.
So in a sense he managed to time his own literary demise rather well, as it coincided with just such a sea change in the mid-seventies, which witnessed the beginning of a steady decline in the sales of his novels. A new breed of, shall we say, more socially aware and diplomatic writers was emerging, and the world of debutantes' balls, stiff upper lips and adherence to duty, which had managed to hang on through two world wars, was finally let go of.
For those of us who enjoy a thumping good yarn laced with sex, violence, nasty Nazis and devil-worshippers, gallons of port and cognac, smoked salmon and caviar by the bucketful, and of course the best cigars that money can buy, Dennis Wheatley leaves the competition way behind.
To me, as a child growing up in the sixties, every bookshelf seemed to include at least five or six Georgette Heyers, and as an adolescent I used to sneak a look at them in search of racy bits, though I was always disappointed, despite the lurid bedroom scenes of half-naked damsels and Regency beaus on their dustcovers. I pretty soon discovered, however, that the Wheatleys contained far naughtier bits. Within the pages of his thrillers one could always expect something about heaving, half-exposed bosoms or seductively pale thighs, and the hero's fingers would often be found lingering in such places, when not fingering the pommel of a sword or the trigger of a pistol.
These novels were written in less complicated days, and Wheatley was unapologetic for - or probably simply unaware of - any offence he might be causing to ethnic minorities and people who had to work for a living. None of his heroes ever did what you or I would think of as work. They were all fabulously rich and handsome, and spent a large part of their time drinking cocktails, donning evening-gowns and smoking-jackets, eating exquisite foods and puffing on the most expensive cigars. When, that is, they weren't dealing with Satanists and Nazis and teaching them a thing or two about Imperial British values and the difference between right and wrong.
By modern thriller standards, Wheatley is perhaps rather slow in getting on with the story, and his characters have a habit of lecturing one another rather than holding a proper conversation. The historical background is usually introduced not incidentally and gradually as a part of the natural texture as the story unfolds, but as the sort of lesson a rather stiff teacher might deliver at school, put into the mouth of one character in response to some pertinent query by another. 'But how on earth did Germany, the country of Goethe and Mozart, arrive at such a sorry state?' would be a typical trigger, precursor to half a dozen dense pages about the rise of the Third Reich that have no direct bearing on the plot, and by the end of which you've either dozed off or have had to glance back to pick up the thread.
I think that the chief appeal of Dennis Wheatley nowadays, at least for me, is that he offers an illusion of moral certainty in the face of that peculiar curse of modern life, relative values. For him, there are no compensating circumstances to a case. Some things are right and other things are just plain wrong, and the perpetrators of the latter are the clear villains of the piece and therefore bound for a sticky end. Political correctness was a completely alien concept to him, and he would no doubt have identified it as a major cause of the rot when it came to the decline and fall of the British Empire. Nazis, Communists, Socialists, Uppity Minorities of all shades and persuasions - these were basically a Bad Lot as far as he was concerned, and he was not the sort to bow to public opinion on such matters.
So in a sense he managed to time his own literary demise rather well, as it coincided with just such a sea change in the mid-seventies, which witnessed the beginning of a steady decline in the sales of his novels. A new breed of, shall we say, more socially aware and diplomatic writers was emerging, and the world of debutantes' balls, stiff upper lips and adherence to duty, which had managed to hang on through two world wars, was finally let go of.
For those of us who enjoy a thumping good yarn laced with sex, violence, nasty Nazis and devil-worshippers, gallons of port and cognac, smoked salmon and caviar by the bucketful, and of course the best cigars that money can buy, Dennis Wheatley leaves the competition way behind.
Read
August 13, 2022I felt the urge to return to Dennis Wheatley's occult thrillers after reading an excellent bio by Phil Baker. Obviously, this is terrible on several levels: hack writer, huge racist (though in fairness not antisemitic, which is at least less shitty than most 1930s pulp, and with a surprisingly open mind to the value of other cultures and religions considering the aforesaid racism. In some ways at least.)
But Wheatley can tell the fuck out of a story, with what he called a 'snakes and ladders' approach to plot (things going well for the heroes? Kick it out from under them!) and there's some really amazingly weird stuff in here alongside the compelling plot which had visible impact on 20th century British occultism. Plus, marvellous depiction of Alesteir Crowley. Very effective thriller, genuinely terrible writer, and all the alerts for ableism, racism, orientalism, et cetera ad nauseam.
But Wheatley can tell the fuck out of a story, with what he called a 'snakes and ladders' approach to plot (things going well for the heroes? Kick it out from under them!) and there's some really amazingly weird stuff in here alongside the compelling plot which had visible impact on 20th century British occultism. Plus, marvellous depiction of Alesteir Crowley. Very effective thriller, genuinely terrible writer, and all the alerts for ableism, racism, orientalism, et cetera ad nauseam.
April 25, 2021
Despite my long-standing interest in supernatural fiction, I'd never heard of British author Dennis Wheatley (1897-1977) before joining Goodreads; but he was a popular and prolific author, not only in that genre, but of mysteries, adventure and espionage thrillers, and action-oriented historical fiction. (In his lifetime, he was nicknamed "The Prince of Thriller Writers.") This particular novel is one of his earlier works, published in 1934.
Goodreads characterizes this book as the first in the author's Black Magic series. Apparently, it is the first novel of several where he used black magic as a premise. However, there's no indication that Wheatley himself viewed all of these as a connected series; they often feature entirely different protagonists, though they happen to share a common subject matter. But Goodreads also lists it --more accurately-- as the sixth book (in terms of internal chronology) in the series featuring the Duke de Richleau as protagonist, though it's actually the second in that series to be written. It was preceded by The Forbidden Territory (1933), an action-adventure thriller which introduced the Duke, a French-born aristocratic adventurer who's in his 60s but still strong and pretty agile, his three wealthy friends, the American Rex Van Ryn and the Britishers Simon Aron and Richard Eaton, as well as Marie Lou, the Russian princess who becomes Richard's wife. All five of these are important characters here as well. Wheatley probably assumed that readers of this novel had read the earlier one (though I didn't); and though he makes frequent reference to that one, readers who actually have read it will have a lot more initial familiarity with the characters and their relationships. That would especially help with Simon, who's already in the coils of Satanist influence and needing rescue when this book opens. For a reader who's just hearing his name for the first time, it's hard to feel very personally invested in his fate, save for the general concern we'd have for any stranger in trouble.
Given the title of this novel, and the fact that the antagonists in the plot are Satanists, it seems incongruous that Wheatley puts into the Duke's mouth the claim, "There is no such person as the devil..." (Chapter 7). But that makes sense given the worldview he's taking here as his premise. Satan, of course, is a creature of God, a fallen angel who's rebelled against his Maker; he's not God's co-eternal and co-equal opponent. But Wheatley is consciously basing his picture of reality here, as laid out in great detail in Chapter 3, on the schema of Zoroastrian dualism (which he explicitly refers to there) with its co-eternal and co-equal powers of Good and Evil, Light and Darkness, perpetually warring for control of the universe and mankind. (With some writers of supernatural fiction, this would simply be a literary conceit, but Wheatley apparently actually believed in something like this.) All of his research --which was quite considerable-- into occultism and primitive/ancient religion is interpreted in that light, and all religions (including Christianity) are re-interpreted and homogenized into harmonious expressions of that idea. The goal of all "true" religions of "the Right Hand Path," supposedly (as he also states explicitly) is progress towards "perfection" through successive reincarnations. Not surprisingly, to paint this picture (through the Duke's lectures at various places in the book, which can have an info-dumpy quality), he misinterprets and garbles factual and historical material in significant ways, sometimes makes outright factual errors, and at times makes use of spurious or intellectually discredited sources. I did a lot of eye-rolling during this read, in quite a few places. He also treats astrology, palmistry (in which another character is conveniently but improbably well-versed) and numerology as legitimate sciences to be taken seriously --which I don't. To me, the rather long numerology lesson was particularly eye-glazing.
The time-frame of this book is quite short, packing 287 pages of action into the short period between the night of April 29 and the morning of May 4, or slightly more than four days. This means there's a pretty fast pace to events. It also means, given the introduction of a major romantic plot thread, that there's an extreme insta-love factor operating here, which is another real strain on credibility. (Though, being a romantic at heart, I did root for the couple --who may or may not be parted by death before they get any chance for an HEA, but I'm not sharing any spoilers!) In places, the author tends to fall into the trap of equating physical impairments or blemishes with moral deformity; some comments here come across as racially insensitive, and there's also an underlying sense of Wheatley's elitist and entitled social attitudes. But the tale succeeds as well as it does because the author draws a strong and convincing good versus evil conflict, writes very powerful scenes of supernatural action with you-are-there immediacy, handles language with nothing short of genius, and conjures menacing and eerie atmosphere as well as any English-language writer ever did. While I'd say the book is more plot-driven than character driven, I did come to care about the characters. (It's also a plus that Simon Aron is a sympathetic Jewish character, and Jewish-Gentile friendship is treated positively; in many British circles in 1934, this was far from a universal attitude, so I give Wheatley the credit he's due for this.)
Overall, I did like the book, and I'm not sorry to have experienced the author's work. But for me as a Christian reader, his premises are ultimately as credible as a story starring the Easter Bunny would be. I couldn't really suspend disbelief here, in the way that I can for a lot of supernatural fiction. (As far as we know, for instance, vampires, shape-shifters, and witches wielding actual powers don't exist --but I can accept, as a literary conceit, the premise that they possibly could, without upending the nature of reality as I know it. Wheatley's fictional world frankly couldn't.) My interest isn't piqued to explore more of his corpus, nor to check out the 1968 movie adaptation of this novel by Hammer Films.
Goodreads characterizes this book as the first in the author's Black Magic series. Apparently, it is the first novel of several where he used black magic as a premise. However, there's no indication that Wheatley himself viewed all of these as a connected series; they often feature entirely different protagonists, though they happen to share a common subject matter. But Goodreads also lists it --more accurately-- as the sixth book (in terms of internal chronology) in the series featuring the Duke de Richleau as protagonist, though it's actually the second in that series to be written. It was preceded by The Forbidden Territory (1933), an action-adventure thriller which introduced the Duke, a French-born aristocratic adventurer who's in his 60s but still strong and pretty agile, his three wealthy friends, the American Rex Van Ryn and the Britishers Simon Aron and Richard Eaton, as well as Marie Lou, the Russian princess who becomes Richard's wife. All five of these are important characters here as well. Wheatley probably assumed that readers of this novel had read the earlier one (though I didn't); and though he makes frequent reference to that one, readers who actually have read it will have a lot more initial familiarity with the characters and their relationships. That would especially help with Simon, who's already in the coils of Satanist influence and needing rescue when this book opens. For a reader who's just hearing his name for the first time, it's hard to feel very personally invested in his fate, save for the general concern we'd have for any stranger in trouble.
Given the title of this novel, and the fact that the antagonists in the plot are Satanists, it seems incongruous that Wheatley puts into the Duke's mouth the claim, "There is no such person as the devil..." (Chapter 7). But that makes sense given the worldview he's taking here as his premise. Satan, of course, is a creature of God, a fallen angel who's rebelled against his Maker; he's not God's co-eternal and co-equal opponent. But Wheatley is consciously basing his picture of reality here, as laid out in great detail in Chapter 3, on the schema of Zoroastrian dualism (which he explicitly refers to there) with its co-eternal and co-equal powers of Good and Evil, Light and Darkness, perpetually warring for control of the universe and mankind. (With some writers of supernatural fiction, this would simply be a literary conceit, but Wheatley apparently actually believed in something like this.) All of his research --which was quite considerable-- into occultism and primitive/ancient religion is interpreted in that light, and all religions (including Christianity) are re-interpreted and homogenized into harmonious expressions of that idea. The goal of all "true" religions of "the Right Hand Path," supposedly (as he also states explicitly) is progress towards "perfection" through successive reincarnations. Not surprisingly, to paint this picture (through the Duke's lectures at various places in the book, which can have an info-dumpy quality), he misinterprets and garbles factual and historical material in significant ways, sometimes makes outright factual errors, and at times makes use of spurious or intellectually discredited sources. I did a lot of eye-rolling during this read, in quite a few places. He also treats astrology, palmistry (in which another character is conveniently but improbably well-versed) and numerology as legitimate sciences to be taken seriously --which I don't. To me, the rather long numerology lesson was particularly eye-glazing.
The time-frame of this book is quite short, packing 287 pages of action into the short period between the night of April 29 and the morning of May 4, or slightly more than four days. This means there's a pretty fast pace to events. It also means, given the introduction of a major romantic plot thread, that there's an extreme insta-love factor operating here, which is another real strain on credibility. (Though, being a romantic at heart, I did root for the couple --who may or may not be parted by death before they get any chance for an HEA, but I'm not sharing any spoilers!) In places, the author tends to fall into the trap of equating physical impairments or blemishes with moral deformity; some comments here come across as racially insensitive, and there's also an underlying sense of Wheatley's elitist and entitled social attitudes. But the tale succeeds as well as it does because the author draws a strong and convincing good versus evil conflict, writes very powerful scenes of supernatural action with you-are-there immediacy, handles language with nothing short of genius, and conjures menacing and eerie atmosphere as well as any English-language writer ever did. While I'd say the book is more plot-driven than character driven, I did come to care about the characters. (It's also a plus that Simon Aron is a sympathetic Jewish character, and Jewish-Gentile friendship is treated positively; in many British circles in 1934, this was far from a universal attitude, so I give Wheatley the credit he's due for this.)
Overall, I did like the book, and I'm not sorry to have experienced the author's work. But for me as a Christian reader, his premises are ultimately as credible as a story starring the Easter Bunny would be. I couldn't really suspend disbelief here, in the way that I can for a lot of supernatural fiction. (As far as we know, for instance, vampires, shape-shifters, and witches wielding actual powers don't exist --but I can accept, as a literary conceit, the premise that they possibly could, without upending the nature of reality as I know it. Wheatley's fictional world frankly couldn't.) My interest isn't piqued to explore more of his corpus, nor to check out the 1968 movie adaptation of this novel by Hammer Films.
November 26, 2018
When I first saw the 1968 horror film "The Devil Rides Out" several years back at one of NYC's numerous revival theatres, I thought it was one of the best Hammer films that I'd ever seen, and made a mental note to check out Dennis Wheatley's 1934 source novel one day. That resolve was further strengthened when I read a very laudatory article by Stephen Volk on the book in Newman & Jones' excellent overview volume "Horror: Another 100 Best Books." And now that I have finally read what is generally deemed Wheatley's most successful and popular novel, I can see the Hammer film for what it is: a watered-down filmization that can't hold a Black Mass candle to its superb original. The great Richard Matheson's screenplay condenses much, simplifies more, excises whole sections and changes the central plot entirely. In short, the book is where the real thrills and chills reside.
In it, readers once again meet the Duke de Richleau and his friends Rex Van Ryn (an American), Simon Aron (an English Jew) and Richard & Marie Lou Eaton, whom Wheatley first introduced to the world in his earlier novels "Three Inquisitive People" and "The Forbidden Territory." When Simon comes under the power of a group of Satanists and their Aleister Crowley-like leader, Mocata, the Duke must take quick steps to save his young friend from their sinister hold. Wheatley obviously did a prodigious amount of background research before the writing of this, his first of an eventual nine novels dealing with black magic and the supernatural. He throws reams of information at us dealing with witchcraft, numerology, werepeople, vampires, the undead, seances, Egyptology, Kabbalah, and Crowley's "The Book of the Law." The effect of all this detail is to make the reader really buy into the increasingly evil events and suspend disbelief. As our heroes one by one find their skepticism eroded by the book's horrifying events, so too is ours. As in the film, the book's two main set pieces are the midnight Sabbat (more atmospheric and chilling in the novel, taking place on the Salisbury Plain; not to mention more licentious) and the defense of our heroes within the pentacle as Mocata visits on them one evil conjuration after another. The film's oversized giant spider in this scene cannot possibly compare to Wheatley's leprous, sluglike blob creature that leaps, laughs and pulsates. These two passages alone would guarantee Wheatley's book a place in the horror pantheon, but almost as fine are the scenes dealing with Simon's party, the initial materialization of the demon in the observatory, a minutely detailed car chase, Mocata's attempt at hypnotizing Marie Lou and, finally, a breakneck trans-Europe plane chase, culminating in the crumbling tombs of a Grecian monastery, and a showdown with Mocata for the legendary mummified phallus of Osiris--the Talisman of Set--which will enable its possessor to start a world war. Matheson jettisoned the entire central plot point of the Talisman in his screenplay...unwisely, I feel, as it is necessary for increased suspense and a greater atmosphere of urgency.
Wheatley has been justifiably accused of racism and bigotry in his writings (55 novels over a course of 39 years), but happily, this early novel of his contains no statements that should grate on modern-day PC sensibilities. At worst, he can be accused of some fuzzy writing on occasion, of having his characters lecture at times rather than speak realistically, and of continuously mistaking the word "aesthetic" for "ascetic." Minor quibbles, indeed, for a book as exciting, innovative and, yes, downright scary as this one. At one point in this longish tale, Rex Van Ryn tells us that his taste in literature tends to "popular novelists who can turn out a good, interesting story." I think that Rex would have been a fan of Dennis Wheatley, based on that statement. Although enormously popular from the 1930s to the 1960s, Wheatley today seems to be little mentioned, but I for one am going to be seeking out more...
In it, readers once again meet the Duke de Richleau and his friends Rex Van Ryn (an American), Simon Aron (an English Jew) and Richard & Marie Lou Eaton, whom Wheatley first introduced to the world in his earlier novels "Three Inquisitive People" and "The Forbidden Territory." When Simon comes under the power of a group of Satanists and their Aleister Crowley-like leader, Mocata, the Duke must take quick steps to save his young friend from their sinister hold. Wheatley obviously did a prodigious amount of background research before the writing of this, his first of an eventual nine novels dealing with black magic and the supernatural. He throws reams of information at us dealing with witchcraft, numerology, werepeople, vampires, the undead, seances, Egyptology, Kabbalah, and Crowley's "The Book of the Law." The effect of all this detail is to make the reader really buy into the increasingly evil events and suspend disbelief. As our heroes one by one find their skepticism eroded by the book's horrifying events, so too is ours. As in the film, the book's two main set pieces are the midnight Sabbat (more atmospheric and chilling in the novel, taking place on the Salisbury Plain; not to mention more licentious) and the defense of our heroes within the pentacle as Mocata visits on them one evil conjuration after another. The film's oversized giant spider in this scene cannot possibly compare to Wheatley's leprous, sluglike blob creature that leaps, laughs and pulsates. These two passages alone would guarantee Wheatley's book a place in the horror pantheon, but almost as fine are the scenes dealing with Simon's party, the initial materialization of the demon in the observatory, a minutely detailed car chase, Mocata's attempt at hypnotizing Marie Lou and, finally, a breakneck trans-Europe plane chase, culminating in the crumbling tombs of a Grecian monastery, and a showdown with Mocata for the legendary mummified phallus of Osiris--the Talisman of Set--which will enable its possessor to start a world war. Matheson jettisoned the entire central plot point of the Talisman in his screenplay...unwisely, I feel, as it is necessary for increased suspense and a greater atmosphere of urgency.
Wheatley has been justifiably accused of racism and bigotry in his writings (55 novels over a course of 39 years), but happily, this early novel of his contains no statements that should grate on modern-day PC sensibilities. At worst, he can be accused of some fuzzy writing on occasion, of having his characters lecture at times rather than speak realistically, and of continuously mistaking the word "aesthetic" for "ascetic." Minor quibbles, indeed, for a book as exciting, innovative and, yes, downright scary as this one. At one point in this longish tale, Rex Van Ryn tells us that his taste in literature tends to "popular novelists who can turn out a good, interesting story." I think that Rex would have been a fan of Dennis Wheatley, based on that statement. Although enormously popular from the 1930s to the 1960s, Wheatley today seems to be little mentioned, but I for one am going to be seeking out more...
May 26, 2021
Amazing to think that, when I was a youngster in the early 1970s, bookshops had rows of Dennis Wheatley books. I doubt too many bookshops stock him now. I read The Devil Rides Out (1934) as a 13 year old and thought it was the pincacle of adventure writing.
Mocata, the main occultist, is a none too subtle version of Aleister Crowley who was someone Dennis Wheatley met on several occasions and got to know well. Indeed it was apparently Wheatley, Maxwell Knight and Ian Fleming who came up with the ruse to co-opt Aleister Crowley to help convince Nazi Rudolph Hess to parachute into Scotland whilst they were working for British intelligence during WW2.
The tale opens in 1930s London with the Duc de Richleau, and wealthy young American Rex van Ryn, having to rescue their friend Simon Aron from a devil worshipping cult. Thus starts a struggle between light and dark with the fate of the world hanging in the balance.
Almost 50 years since my initial read, and despite the clunky and cliche ridden writing, the lazy racial stereotypes, the everyday sexism, and a massive side order of hokum, I really enjoyed The Devil Rides Out. It's a cross between a Boys Own adventure yarn, a classic 1970s Hammer Horror film, and an episode of Scooby Doo. Coincidentally it was made into a Hammer film in the 1970s. If you're willing to suspend disbelief and indulge a lot of mystical nonsense then this still stands up as a thrilling adventure yarn.
4/5
Mocata, the main occultist, is a none too subtle version of Aleister Crowley who was someone Dennis Wheatley met on several occasions and got to know well. Indeed it was apparently Wheatley, Maxwell Knight and Ian Fleming who came up with the ruse to co-opt Aleister Crowley to help convince Nazi Rudolph Hess to parachute into Scotland whilst they were working for British intelligence during WW2.
The tale opens in 1930s London with the Duc de Richleau, and wealthy young American Rex van Ryn, having to rescue their friend Simon Aron from a devil worshipping cult. Thus starts a struggle between light and dark with the fate of the world hanging in the balance.
Almost 50 years since my initial read, and despite the clunky and cliche ridden writing, the lazy racial stereotypes, the everyday sexism, and a massive side order of hokum, I really enjoyed The Devil Rides Out. It's a cross between a Boys Own adventure yarn, a classic 1970s Hammer Horror film, and an episode of Scooby Doo. Coincidentally it was made into a Hammer film in the 1970s. If you're willing to suspend disbelief and indulge a lot of mystical nonsense then this still stands up as a thrilling adventure yarn.
4/5
February 18, 2021
Duc de Rickleau, Saruman, Count Dooku and Dracula (who all bear a striking resemblance to Sir Christopher Lee) enjoy whiskey at an exclusive room and discuss Dennis Wheatley’s 1934 Black magic novel The Devil Rides Out.
Duc: One of Wheatley’s finest, you know, he really captured our essence and understands the occult like few others.
Saruman: Indeed, one thinks of Crowley, Lovecraft or Stoker.
Dracula: Stoker, yes, and of course Wheatley, in his book on Satanist rites and black magic also devotes some time to the creatures of the night, vampires included.
All nod to him respectfully, to which he bows assent.
Dooku: I was curious to see that the 1968 film was made so close to the original text, describing as it does the paganist ceremonies.
Duc: The sixties were a time when satanic worship could be explored in film without the gore associated with later horror films, while still holding true to Wheatley’s vision.
Saruman: And this is rightly considered a part of the horror genre, and we should also consider a comparison to Arthur Machen’s excellent treatise The Great God Pan.
All agree.
Duc: Well, and as our good friend Sir Christopher was famous for saying, “When the Second World War finished, I was 23 and already I had seen enough horror to last me a lifetime. I'd seen dreadful, dreadful things, without saying a word. Seeing horror depicted on film doesn't affect me much.”
To which they all raise their tumblers in a final toast to Sir Christopher.
Duc: One of Wheatley’s finest, you know, he really captured our essence and understands the occult like few others.
Saruman: Indeed, one thinks of Crowley, Lovecraft or Stoker.
Dracula: Stoker, yes, and of course Wheatley, in his book on Satanist rites and black magic also devotes some time to the creatures of the night, vampires included.
All nod to him respectfully, to which he bows assent.
Dooku: I was curious to see that the 1968 film was made so close to the original text, describing as it does the paganist ceremonies.
Duc: The sixties were a time when satanic worship could be explored in film without the gore associated with later horror films, while still holding true to Wheatley’s vision.
Saruman: And this is rightly considered a part of the horror genre, and we should also consider a comparison to Arthur Machen’s excellent treatise The Great God Pan.
All agree.
Duc: Well, and as our good friend Sir Christopher was famous for saying, “When the Second World War finished, I was 23 and already I had seen enough horror to last me a lifetime. I'd seen dreadful, dreadful things, without saying a word. Seeing horror depicted on film doesn't affect me much.”
To which they all raise their tumblers in a final toast to Sir Christopher.
March 20, 2024
Written in the sober prose typical for the inter-war years with a plot that’s clinical and analytic yet curiously manages to produce characters of some emotional depth, Dennis Whitley’s The Devil 👿 Rides Out is a novel about good and evil 🦹, light and dark, the battle of supernatural powers for dominance. Its four London upper-class protagonists utilize an interesting variety of magic and ancient knowledge that not only enables them to successfully fight a host of shady characters true to form attired in hoods and cloaks of fashionable satanic black, happily apostatizing flashing their pentagrams, upside down crucifixes, in adulation of their hoofed and horned prince of darkness but also providing this reader with some intriguing tidbits about numerology, ancient Egyptian myth, demonology and various other occult related themes. All in all recommendable, especially if you are able to get hold of the audiobook read by the one and only Christopher Lee. 😀
September 9, 2019
One of the best occult horror novels that I have come across. If you are familiar with the Christopher Lee movie, it follows the book pretty closely, but where the movie ends, the book is just getting going.
Some people might have a few problems with this book. They weren't anything that detracted from my overall rating, but they are there: First of all, this book is a bit racist. sentiments like "The magic of the 'Blacks' can't affect the strong mind of a white person!" are scattered around. It's not overwhelming, but it's certainly there.
Second, the plot comes to a screeching halt every now and then so that a character can go in-depth on occult or mythological topics. I didn't have a problem with this, as I felt it added to the book's overall occult tone, but some people might get frustrated by some of the side-tracking.
Besides that, though, the pacing is almost perfect. Wheatley always spends a bit of time setting up a suspenseful scene ("we are going to sneak up on these cultists..." or "we need to set up magical protection from when we get attacked later") and then always gives a satisfying pay off. He never sets something up just to have it fizzle out. When the characters begin to feel like things are going to get dicey, they are always right.
We also get monsters, spirits, and magic, but they are never overused. Wheatley always shows us just enough to give us something cool without it becoming boring from being done to death.
Finally, Wheatley goes the way of "every good religion and good person is on the right track" rather than "everyone who isn't a Christian is going to burn in hell!". Considering the book's age and satanic antagonists, he certainly could have went the former way and I appreciate that he didn't.
As an aside for the roleplayers out there: author Seth Skorkowsky (I haven't read any of his stuff but he has a fantastic YouTube channel) said something to the effect that this book presents us with a near-perfect Call of Cthulhu RPG adventure structure and I would have to agree.
Some people might have a few problems with this book. They weren't anything that detracted from my overall rating, but they are there: First of all, this book is a bit racist. sentiments like "The magic of the 'Blacks' can't affect the strong mind of a white person!" are scattered around. It's not overwhelming, but it's certainly there.
Second, the plot comes to a screeching halt every now and then so that a character can go in-depth on occult or mythological topics. I didn't have a problem with this, as I felt it added to the book's overall occult tone, but some people might get frustrated by some of the side-tracking.
Besides that, though, the pacing is almost perfect. Wheatley always spends a bit of time setting up a suspenseful scene ("we are going to sneak up on these cultists..." or "we need to set up magical protection from when we get attacked later") and then always gives a satisfying pay off. He never sets something up just to have it fizzle out. When the characters begin to feel like things are going to get dicey, they are always right.
We also get monsters, spirits, and magic, but they are never overused. Wheatley always shows us just enough to give us something cool without it becoming boring from being done to death.
Finally, Wheatley goes the way of "every good religion and good person is on the right track" rather than "everyone who isn't a Christian is going to burn in hell!". Considering the book's age and satanic antagonists, he certainly could have went the former way and I appreciate that he didn't.
As an aside for the roleplayers out there: author Seth Skorkowsky (I haven't read any of his stuff but he has a fantastic YouTube channel) said something to the effect that this book presents us with a near-perfect Call of Cthulhu RPG adventure structure and I would have to agree.
April 7, 2008
Dennis Wheatley is one of those authors who has gone from topping bestseller lists to complete oblivion in the space of less than 30 years. As recently as the 1970s he was one of the most widely read authors in the world, with total sales exceeding 50 million copies. He has a reputation for jingoism, racism, sexism and insanely reactionary political views, and for his unswerving belief that Satanism is a major force in the modern world and that we should have nothing to do with it because it’s really wicked and terribly naughty. He even includes an amusing little warning at the beginning of each of his books, which essentially amounts to “don’t try this at home boys and girls.” In fact his approach to magic and religion is rather more complex than you might expect from his Colonel Blimp-ish image. He dismisses any idea of the literal existence of Satan or of Hell as simplistic nonsense, and his heroes use Catholic, Jewish, Buddhist and even pagan rituals in their battles with the forces of darkness. He certainly does believe in the forces of darkness though. His style is a bit like one of those wonderful 1950s movies warning of the dangers of fast cars, dope and heavy petting. But combined with X-Files-type conspiracy theories plus wicked devil-worshippers who'll stop at nothing to get innocent young women to take their clothes off, plus non-stop action. His stuff works superbly as High Camp. I just love him.
October 11, 2015
Description: 29 Apr 1935 - 4 May 1935: Black Magic is still practised in all the great cities of the world. This novel tells with macabre detail of a beautiful woman caught in a web of Satanists, of a young man brought to the verge of madness through his dabbling with the powers of evil.
As in Dennis Wheatley's The Forbidden Territory we meet the Duke de Richleau, Simon Aron, the Princess Marie Lou, and other characters. From London to the West Country, from the slums of Paris to a Christian monastery, the action of this powerful occult thriller moves with fantastic, compelling force..
Watch hereSee Paul Eddington and Patrick Mower in the casting mix? Bet they regretted that.
August 6, 2017
I got this book for 10 pence at a thrift shop in Belfast (yellow pages, cover wearing out) - I could not afford anything else, being in dire straits at the time -, I started reading it just for the sake of reading something and I loved it! The narrative is very good and I was quite frightened by the story's atmosphere. Living in Belfast at that time was somehow frightening as well.
December 9, 2017
Literary equivalent of Hammer Horror. It struck me early on that this would make a classic Hammer Horror Movie, with the emphasis on 'ham'. And if fact, it did, with Christopher Lee playing the hero for a change, as Duke de Richleau. That is pretty much all you need to know. However, I will make a few personal observations. Its a group of upper class rich stereotypes from a bygone era that I am not sure ever even existed. They go charging about the English country side and dashing off in conveniently fuelled and ready to take off private aircraft across Europe to foil a dreadful satanic plot in which they have unwittingly become embroiled. They are temporarily thwarted at every turn by villains, who can be readily identified by their various physical peculiarities and deformities. Obviously.
The text is littered with all manner of references to satanic practices and daft myth and legend relating to the dark arts, to the point that it just becomes very, very silly. How much bunk the author must have waded through to end up with such a mish-mash of nonsense I can only imagine, but he must have been overwhelmed because he certainly wasn't discerning in the final cut. The effect is an overload that renders any reasonable suspension of belief impossible.
No occurrence or situation is so terrible it seems, not even the kidnapping of ones only child, that one cannot make the time at least, to manage a ham sandwich, if not a full 4 course meal and every venue has access to a well stocked cellar of excellent wines. Every repast is detailed. At first, I found it 'quaint' and nostalgic but I struggled to complete it because it is just so 'twee' and dated without the depth or skill needed to elevate it above this perception. No suspense, no terror, angst or pathos, oh and in the end, everyone, save the chronically obvious villain, lives happily ever after.
Does it work? No, It fails on the horror front. Just not at all frightening but it did make me laugh in a couple of places. I think the difference between a novel being described as dated and a novel really achieving classic status must be in the execution. Bram Stoker's Dracula is a classic. The Devil Rides out is just daft. Read it for nostalgia or comedy effect.
The text is littered with all manner of references to satanic practices and daft myth and legend relating to the dark arts, to the point that it just becomes very, very silly. How much bunk the author must have waded through to end up with such a mish-mash of nonsense I can only imagine, but he must have been overwhelmed because he certainly wasn't discerning in the final cut. The effect is an overload that renders any reasonable suspension of belief impossible.
No occurrence or situation is so terrible it seems, not even the kidnapping of ones only child, that one cannot make the time at least, to manage a ham sandwich, if not a full 4 course meal and every venue has access to a well stocked cellar of excellent wines. Every repast is detailed. At first, I found it 'quaint' and nostalgic but I struggled to complete it because it is just so 'twee' and dated without the depth or skill needed to elevate it above this perception. No suspense, no terror, angst or pathos, oh and in the end, everyone, save the chronically obvious villain, lives happily ever after.
Does it work? No, It fails on the horror front. Just not at all frightening but it did make me laugh in a couple of places. I think the difference between a novel being described as dated and a novel really achieving classic status must be in the execution. Bram Stoker's Dracula is a classic. The Devil Rides out is just daft. Read it for nostalgia or comedy effect.
March 17, 2009
An action packed thriller focusing on the practice of black magic. Good fun but some infuriatingly dense characters.
April 23, 2012
While Dennis Wheatley may have been quite a sensation in his day, I certainly hadn't heard of him until I came across the Hammer Productions film based on this novel. I've owned the film for years now and frankly love it, and because it's indellibly imprinted on my psyche, I'm going to talk about the movie more than I normally would in a book review. Normally, I feel that the two artistic media are of equal merit and should generally be kept apart and considered as separate entities even when they are supposedly tackling the same story.
All right, I may as well lay my cards on the table right now: I like the film a fair bit more than the book. I'm chuckling to myself over here because writing this now, I realise I can't really think of another instance where this is true for me. Maybe it's down to Richard Matheson writing the movie script and turning a sometimes meandering, occasionally pontificating and sometimes even unintentionally funny novel into a taut fast-paced screenplay. Maybe it's Christopher Lee, whose grave, saturnine Duc De Richleau somehow comes off as more dignified and charismatic than the old fart of the novel. It could even be the way Hammer and the actor Charles Grey handled the villain, which seemed to make him a more active presence in the story.
Dennis Wheatley's style is solid and engaging, if nothing too remarkable. I found myself wanting to skip pages at times, but I almost never do that and was for the most part able to resist the urge, with the possible exception of the sticky family-oriented scenes near the end. Wheatley has an interesting habit here of leaping onto the soapbox occasionally, taking jabs at all kinds of stuff that usually come from the mouth of his wise and learned protagonist, the Duc, but which feel like they just stem from nothing when you read the book. While Wheatley obviously did plenty of research and talks about the occult convincingly, I don't feel he revels in it as much as he should. It almost feels like he's caught in a jam with on the one hand trying to warn people about the dangers of this stuff and on the other tell a ripping/lurid yarn about evil occult ceremonies and the devilish doings of black magicians. If his heart was really in the latter, he might have given the story a bit more juice, but I feel it's the former Wheatley that sort of wins out here. Interesting that while the Hammer film does feel necessarily a bit tamer because of what could be shown on screen in England at the time, it somehow comes across as enjoying its subject matter a little more and not really trying to preach against it, except maybe for all the "Jesus stuff", but I'll come to that in a bit.
The villain seems like he'd be interesting, but we mostly hear about him and what he does because of other characters relating events. Frankly this is a pretty boring method of storytelling; I almost think Simon should have been more at the centre of things, as his conversion to satanism and possible eventual redemption would probably have made a more interesting tale than what we got. About three quarters of the way through it struck me: Mocata doesn't do a damn thing in this book! He mostly just shows up and pronounces ominous things, and instead of seeing the scene directly we get to hear about it afterwards. The nadir is when he shows up at Richard's house and ... begins to eat chocolates threateningly in Richard's wife's presence! Oh, there's something vague about an attempted mind control in there, but it doesn't seem to really work on anybody important. The film certainly made him seem much more of a credible adversary.
All the "good guys" are pretty flat and boring to read about, I'm afraid, and the satanist girl everyone is chasing after falls in love with the big American fellow for some reason, even though she leads everyone on a really plodding car chase halfway through the book that is the sort of thing people always criticised early 70s Doctor Who for doing but which it didn't actually do all that much. The evil Mocata is portrayed in the novel as a greasy fat foreigner, whereas in the film he's "one of us", rather english seeming and handsome, which seems like it should work much better for a charismatic cult leader. But, you see, Dennis Wheatley kind of has a distrust of the un-english, and most of the people in Mocata's cult are shown as being from some foreign place or having something wrong with them, the suggestion being that a strong and proper English protestant would be happy with his lot and see no reason to join up with a bunch of satanists. Much is made in the novel of Simon's Jewishness, and how while everyone loves him for the man he is, his history and background basically have set him up for this fall, and it's the job of the Duc de Ricleau and good ole' Rex to rescue him from his follies. They first do this by hanging a swastika around his neck, and when he's almost killed the Duc says, "oh no! I made a mistake! That's a symbol of the East! I can't use that here!" Yes, I laughed at this and wasn't appalled or anything; such things generally don't bother me much, but Wheatley is just a bit too strident at times.
Having said that, Wheatley does appear to at least make an attempt at giving his story broader, more universal concerns. The Duc of the book interestingly appears a bit more worldly and less outwardly religious than his counterpart in the film. I don't think the book even mentions Christ directly more than once, and this is a contrast to the screenplay, where in several instances the protagonists invoke the name of Jesus and the movie even ends on a somber note that they should all thank God and his son for having allowed them to triumph in the end. I have to confess that the overtly Christian angle is the one thing about the movie that I didn't entirely like, and Wheatley seems to take some pains to imply that it isn't necessarily christianity that will save the world, and that one positive religious or spiritual faith is essentially as good as any other (although he does condescend to make a list of the applicable ones, I believe).
Another facet of the novel which surprised and pleased me was the ending, which is quite a bit different from the film's and which actually felt more satisfying. I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but there's a section of several dozen pages near the climax where the characters don't quite seem like themselves and something feels deliberately altered in the writing style. It feels kind of dreamlike and oppressive in a strange way, and in the end, when I realise this was purposefully done, I felt like cheering Wheatley, because he'd managed to push some of my irritation buttons and yet kind of came through as being rather good in the end.
I came down a bit hard on this novel, but the truth is that I'll probably read more Wheatley. he seems to be just weird and exciting enough to entertain me, at any rate, and just may have a few surprising tricks up his sleeve.
All right, I may as well lay my cards on the table right now: I like the film a fair bit more than the book. I'm chuckling to myself over here because writing this now, I realise I can't really think of another instance where this is true for me. Maybe it's down to Richard Matheson writing the movie script and turning a sometimes meandering, occasionally pontificating and sometimes even unintentionally funny novel into a taut fast-paced screenplay. Maybe it's Christopher Lee, whose grave, saturnine Duc De Richleau somehow comes off as more dignified and charismatic than the old fart of the novel. It could even be the way Hammer and the actor Charles Grey handled the villain, which seemed to make him a more active presence in the story.
Dennis Wheatley's style is solid and engaging, if nothing too remarkable. I found myself wanting to skip pages at times, but I almost never do that and was for the most part able to resist the urge, with the possible exception of the sticky family-oriented scenes near the end. Wheatley has an interesting habit here of leaping onto the soapbox occasionally, taking jabs at all kinds of stuff that usually come from the mouth of his wise and learned protagonist, the Duc, but which feel like they just stem from nothing when you read the book. While Wheatley obviously did plenty of research and talks about the occult convincingly, I don't feel he revels in it as much as he should. It almost feels like he's caught in a jam with on the one hand trying to warn people about the dangers of this stuff and on the other tell a ripping/lurid yarn about evil occult ceremonies and the devilish doings of black magicians. If his heart was really in the latter, he might have given the story a bit more juice, but I feel it's the former Wheatley that sort of wins out here. Interesting that while the Hammer film does feel necessarily a bit tamer because of what could be shown on screen in England at the time, it somehow comes across as enjoying its subject matter a little more and not really trying to preach against it, except maybe for all the "Jesus stuff", but I'll come to that in a bit.
The villain seems like he'd be interesting, but we mostly hear about him and what he does because of other characters relating events. Frankly this is a pretty boring method of storytelling; I almost think Simon should have been more at the centre of things, as his conversion to satanism and possible eventual redemption would probably have made a more interesting tale than what we got. About three quarters of the way through it struck me: Mocata doesn't do a damn thing in this book! He mostly just shows up and pronounces ominous things, and instead of seeing the scene directly we get to hear about it afterwards. The nadir is when he shows up at Richard's house and ... begins to eat chocolates threateningly in Richard's wife's presence! Oh, there's something vague about an attempted mind control in there, but it doesn't seem to really work on anybody important. The film certainly made him seem much more of a credible adversary.
All the "good guys" are pretty flat and boring to read about, I'm afraid, and the satanist girl everyone is chasing after falls in love with the big American fellow for some reason, even though she leads everyone on a really plodding car chase halfway through the book that is the sort of thing people always criticised early 70s Doctor Who for doing but which it didn't actually do all that much. The evil Mocata is portrayed in the novel as a greasy fat foreigner, whereas in the film he's "one of us", rather english seeming and handsome, which seems like it should work much better for a charismatic cult leader. But, you see, Dennis Wheatley kind of has a distrust of the un-english, and most of the people in Mocata's cult are shown as being from some foreign place or having something wrong with them, the suggestion being that a strong and proper English protestant would be happy with his lot and see no reason to join up with a bunch of satanists. Much is made in the novel of Simon's Jewishness, and how while everyone loves him for the man he is, his history and background basically have set him up for this fall, and it's the job of the Duc de Ricleau and good ole' Rex to rescue him from his follies. They first do this by hanging a swastika around his neck, and when he's almost killed the Duc says, "oh no! I made a mistake! That's a symbol of the East! I can't use that here!" Yes, I laughed at this and wasn't appalled or anything; such things generally don't bother me much, but Wheatley is just a bit too strident at times.
Having said that, Wheatley does appear to at least make an attempt at giving his story broader, more universal concerns. The Duc of the book interestingly appears a bit more worldly and less outwardly religious than his counterpart in the film. I don't think the book even mentions Christ directly more than once, and this is a contrast to the screenplay, where in several instances the protagonists invoke the name of Jesus and the movie even ends on a somber note that they should all thank God and his son for having allowed them to triumph in the end. I have to confess that the overtly Christian angle is the one thing about the movie that I didn't entirely like, and Wheatley seems to take some pains to imply that it isn't necessarily christianity that will save the world, and that one positive religious or spiritual faith is essentially as good as any other (although he does condescend to make a list of the applicable ones, I believe).
Another facet of the novel which surprised and pleased me was the ending, which is quite a bit different from the film's and which actually felt more satisfying. I don't want to spoil it for anyone, but there's a section of several dozen pages near the climax where the characters don't quite seem like themselves and something feels deliberately altered in the writing style. It feels kind of dreamlike and oppressive in a strange way, and in the end, when I realise this was purposefully done, I felt like cheering Wheatley, because he'd managed to push some of my irritation buttons and yet kind of came through as being rather good in the end.
I came down a bit hard on this novel, but the truth is that I'll probably read more Wheatley. he seems to be just weird and exciting enough to entertain me, at any rate, and just may have a few surprising tricks up his sleeve.
December 4, 2013
I bought this book because I am very fond of the Hammer film, and wondered how the book compared. I have to say I enjoyed it tremendously. It was a very fast read, it was written quite simply, but there were very effective passages of action as well as lots of interesting discussion between the characters on the nature of magic and good and evil. . I was amused by the introduction which mentioned how in order to do research he met with both Crowley and Montague Summers, and that it was Montague Summers who disturbed him the most, inviting him to stay at his house and then trying to sell him a very rare occult book that Wheatly didn’t want and couldn’t afford, after which Summers apparently freaked out and Wheatly had to fake an excuse to leave. At first I was surprised to see how closely the book followed the film and had a hard time picturing everyone in nice 1930s clothes instead of their 60s Hammer attire. But as I read further it was easier to see the characters in the book quickly over shadowed their counterparts in the film, (with the exception of De Richelieu who always remained a lot like Christopher Lee). This started with the abduction of the friend Simon; the older and wiser De Richelieu in order to protect him from the occult influences put a swastika around his neck. His young friend was horrified that he’d do this being that their friend was Jewish and it was 1935! The book was a sequel and there were constant references back to their previous adventure in Russia I found this rather reassuring rather than annoying. As that adventure has simply been a straightforward adventure story with no supernatural or occult events, to me it added further spookiness to what they were going through this time. There were a lot of great moments, one of my favourite early on was when they were exploring their friend’s house to discover the nature of his involvement in the occult and made a point of bringing the champagne with them on their explorations. There was also a very striking scene set on the river as they young American hero attempted to woo the beautiful medium and she told him why she was attracted to the left hand part and why she wanted to participate in the ritual. I found it very interesting and highly enjoyable book.
November 14, 2020
Watch the movie. The sort of mad Satanic astral plane (and racist) nonsense that modern conspiracy theorists think is real. I liked the ending of the book better than that of the film, but there was a lot of filler. Female characters very flat, with the males much more attached to each other. Interesting period pulp. Influential in genealogy of horror novels and film. Mayfair/Downton Abbey Satanists with Racism - pre-Hitler (or rather on the same wave) use of the swastika. One of the Duke Richleau novels that are precursors of Dan Brown, James Bond, Indiana Jones.
The part I liked best was actually the detailed description of Richard/Marie Lou's garden - it seemed so precise and real - like the gardens at Knole. I will reread this section.
The part I liked best was actually the detailed description of Richard/Marie Lou's garden - it seemed so precise and real - like the gardens at Knole. I will reread this section.
February 28, 2012
Still the best Black Magic story I've read! Excellent.
March 7, 2016
Highly detailed book for those interested in Satanism. First read this aged 14 and was captivated.
A set of wealthy people set out to rescue a friend wno has fallen into the clutches of a powerful satanist.
Mocata will stop at nothing to obtain The Talisman of Set and unleash the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse on the world.
To locate the talisman he needs the unwilling assistance of Simon Aaron and hypnotises him into becoming a satanist.
Led by the Duc de Richleau, his friends begin a race against time and encounter the terrifying experience of Satanic entities.
Detailed descriptions of Sabbats, kidnap and murder enthrall the reader.
The beautiful doomed Tanith, the charismatic Duc, the naturalised Russian Princess, Simon the banker, Rex Van Ryn the suitor and skeptic Richard Eaton fill a cast of fascinating characters pitted againt the sinister cruel Mocata and his fellow satanists.
Filled with suspence, old fashioned glamour and detailed accounts of black witch craft. Recommended to anyone sick of modern writing with a politically correct slant.
A set of wealthy people set out to rescue a friend wno has fallen into the clutches of a powerful satanist.
Mocata will stop at nothing to obtain The Talisman of Set and unleash the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse on the world.
To locate the talisman he needs the unwilling assistance of Simon Aaron and hypnotises him into becoming a satanist.
Led by the Duc de Richleau, his friends begin a race against time and encounter the terrifying experience of Satanic entities.
Detailed descriptions of Sabbats, kidnap and murder enthrall the reader.
The beautiful doomed Tanith, the charismatic Duc, the naturalised Russian Princess, Simon the banker, Rex Van Ryn the suitor and skeptic Richard Eaton fill a cast of fascinating characters pitted againt the sinister cruel Mocata and his fellow satanists.
Filled with suspence, old fashioned glamour and detailed accounts of black witch craft. Recommended to anyone sick of modern writing with a politically correct slant.
March 17, 2015
Wheatley - człowiek o ponoć podłym charakterze i okropnych poglądach - był swojego czasu bardzo poczytnym autorem. Zupełnie się temu nie dziwię! Sprytnie prowadzi narrację, kończąc rozdziały w takich momentach, że serce wali z ekscytacji i należy wręcz czytać dalej. Kibicujemy dobrym i mądrym głównym bohaterom, którzy podążają za satanistami, poszukującymi fallusa, a ów ma sprowadzić na ten świat kolejne wojny i klęski urodzaju. Drodzy, jeśli potrzebujecie lekkiej lektury, wspaniałej rozrywki i uśmiechania się pod nosem w komunikacji miejskiej - musicie po to sięgnąć!
September 14, 2015
A group of very self-righteous, incredibly rich people swan around in a desperate race against time to stop some Satanists doing - well, it's never entirely clear what - while taking frequent breaks to sample the finer things in life, lecture each other condescendingly, patronise women and complain about the bourgeois, poor, socialists... Maybe those pesky Satanists intended to vote for Jeremy Corbyn? The hysterical tone of the ultra-privileged heroes comes straight out of Tory central casting. Oh, did I mention the racism? This is a very racist book. I know this is a book from the 30s, but I'm genuinely surprised Wheatley was on our side during the war. Quite a few lines in here suggest at least a passing regard for the Nazis. He probably just didn't feel they were from good enough families.
Anyway, sort of despite all that and sort of because of it, I had a lot of fun with this. The first half at least. It's not a long book, but it's twice as long as it needs to be. I haven't seen it, but I suspect the Hammer film adaptation may be the best way to sample it. That has Christopher Lee as the Duke and that guy who played Blofeld as the villain. Which, to be honest, is exactly how I imagined them both from the book anyway. And it's only an hour and a half.
Apres moi, la deluge, but for now, someone open the Chateau Lafite! It's nearly 11am and thanks to those pesky cultists I haven't had a drink yet!
Anyway, sort of despite all that and sort of because of it, I had a lot of fun with this. The first half at least. It's not a long book, but it's twice as long as it needs to be. I haven't seen it, but I suspect the Hammer film adaptation may be the best way to sample it. That has Christopher Lee as the Duke and that guy who played Blofeld as the villain. Which, to be honest, is exactly how I imagined them both from the book anyway. And it's only an hour and a half.
Apres moi, la deluge, but for now, someone open the Chateau Lafite! It's nearly 11am and thanks to those pesky cultists I haven't had a drink yet!
May 2, 2016
First in the Black Magic series and sixth in the Duke de Richleau series revolving around best friends: the Duke de Richleau, Simon Aron, the Princess Marie Lou and Richard Eaton, and Rex Van Wyn.
This ARC was sent to me by NetGalley for an honest review.
My Take
This is a very religious book, but more along the lines of Light versus Dark, Good versus Evil, and the Powers of Good.
I should think Simon has an “inkling” that he’s dabbling in wrong things when he tries so hard to keep de Richleau out of it all. I suspect de Richleau would do better to ensure Max was better informed about black magic.
Tanith was a pain. She comes across as an intelligent woman, but her reasoning for following the Left Hand Path is so immature. She’s a nasty-minded person with her desire to have power over people. Doesn’t she realize that this is an evil desire? What’s wrong with helping people? I do wish Wheatley hadn’t been so cryptic about the Malagasy and the Goat. Did the Malagasy give himself over to the demon, was he the demon, or what?
The slang of the 1930s was interesting to read, and Wheatley has a very black noir atmosphere with all the drama of the times in referring to “magic”. Also typical of the times is the attitude towards people of other races. It’s embarrassing to think people could actually believe such drivel, and a relief that we’ve come as far as we have. We do still have a ways to go, but at least we are making progress. Wheatley certainly has some “interesting” beliefs in why the white man has done as well as he has.
I knew the swastika was an ancient symbol adopted by the Nazis, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard this explanation about it. De Richleau’s explanation of baptism is encompassing, on both sides.Even more interesting is Wheatley’s take on the Albigensians, the Templars, and the Rosicrucians. More history involves La Voisin, Prince Borghese’s taking back his palazzo, the magic of Nicolas Flamel, Rasputin’s real identity, the real reason why World War I broke out, Tanith’s use of numerology, and the tale of Osiris’ murder of Set (very clever if totally wicked).
The duke uses some interesting analogies to explain magic to Rex, Richard, and Marie Lou. And they are good points.
People of my generation and older were taught to be polite to everyone. It’s a definite handicap when encountering the bad guys, and examples of when being rude is the better choice should be taught. That’s not to say that being rude is the best choice, but that there are times when it is merited…phone solicitors, for example.
The good guys did make some stupid moves: Rex drove me mad with his stupid decisions about Tanith at the inn. Duh. At the very least consult with the duke instead of falling asleep in the woods! Leaving Fleur unprotected makes me question their intelligence as well. Simon choosing to go against his friends despite the logic of their decision. And poor Richard, having to go a whole day without his drinks and meat…
Phew, these adventures make me so very appreciative of cell phones!
The Story
It must be truly important for Simon to miss the reunion dinner with the duke and Rex. And the duke is even more worried as Rex discovers. Since their friend is too important to them both, the men repair to Simon’s new house where they discover the depths to which he has sunk.
For Simon is the key to an evil ritual, and Mocata will never let him go. And the duke must convince his friends that magic is real.
It’ll be crazy chase scenes, mad escapes, kidnappings, stopping a Black Mass, and the fourth dimension before it's over.
The Characters
The Duke de Richleau, a.k.a., Greyeyes, is an elderly French exile (due to his involvement in the 1890s Royalist rising), art connoisseur, and dilettante one can count on in all things. He has studied the Right Hand Path, White Magic. Max is the duke’s man.
Simon Aron, a stoop-shouldered Jewish man with a very sudden interest in astronomy and gardening, is about to be baptized “Abraham”. Rex Van Wyn is a wealthy young man who enjoys sports of all kinds. His father is a banker and runs The Chesapeake Banking and Trust Corporation. Richard Eaton has married the Princess Marie Lou, and they have a daughter, Fleur. They sold off the lesser stones of the Shulimoff treasure to provide the princess with an independent income. They currently reside at Cardinals Folly in the country. Jim is a gardener; Malin is their butler; and, they have a nurse for Fleur.
The Assistant Commissioner at the Metropolitan Police is a personal friend of the duke’s. Mister Clutterbuck is ex-Scotland Yard who now works as a private investigator. Mr. Jeremiah Wilkes is a retired gentleman’s gentleman who runs The Pride of the Peacocks, an inn near Cardinals Folly. Mizka is an old gypsy woman of Tanith’s childhood. Nebiros is Mizka’s black cat. Retired Detective Verrier identifies the duke. Le Chef de la Sûreté Daudet arrests the duke.
The hypnotist, Canon Damien Mocata, is a French-Irishman and a defrocked Catholic priest as well as a follower of the Left Hand Path, black magic. Madame D’Urfé (a nom-du-Diable of a notorious witch during the time of Louis XV) is a cigar-smoking, overly jeweled, old Frenchwoman. The psychic Miss Tanith (a name taken from the Moon Goddess of the Carthaginians) is an orphan with a death sentence. The Chinaman; the Albino; and, Laurent Castelnau, a French banker, are involved.
The Forbidden Territory is…
…fifth in the Duke de Richleau series series refers to an earlier adventure of the Duke de Richleau and crew.
Different levels of magic mastery include Ipsissimus, Magus, and Magister Templi. The Red Book of Appin . The Talisman of Set is the 14th part that Isis never found. It's also the goal for Mocata, for the fulfillment of his evil plans. A Sabbat is a gathering of those who practice witchcraft and other rites. The Malagasy is the Goat of Mendes, the black magic equivalent of the lamb of God.
The Title
The title is true enough as The Devil Rides Out with both Mocata and the Goat of Mendes traveling all over the place.
This ARC was sent to me by NetGalley for an honest review.
My Take
This is a very religious book, but more along the lines of Light versus Dark, Good versus Evil, and the Powers of Good.
I should think Simon has an “inkling” that he’s dabbling in wrong things when he tries so hard to keep de Richleau out of it all. I suspect de Richleau would do better to ensure Max was better informed about black magic.
Tanith was a pain. She comes across as an intelligent woman, but her reasoning for following the Left Hand Path is so immature. She’s a nasty-minded person with her desire to have power over people. Doesn’t she realize that this is an evil desire? What’s wrong with helping people? I do wish Wheatley hadn’t been so cryptic about the Malagasy and the Goat. Did the Malagasy give himself over to the demon, was he the demon, or what?
The slang of the 1930s was interesting to read, and Wheatley has a very black noir atmosphere with all the drama of the times in referring to “magic”. Also typical of the times is the attitude towards people of other races. It’s embarrassing to think people could actually believe such drivel, and a relief that we’ve come as far as we have. We do still have a ways to go, but at least we are making progress. Wheatley certainly has some “interesting” beliefs in why the white man has done as well as he has.
I knew the swastika was an ancient symbol adopted by the Nazis, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard this explanation about it. De Richleau’s explanation of baptism is encompassing, on both sides.Even more interesting is Wheatley’s take on the Albigensians, the Templars, and the Rosicrucians. More history involves La Voisin, Prince Borghese’s taking back his palazzo, the magic of Nicolas Flamel, Rasputin’s real identity, the real reason why World War I broke out, Tanith’s use of numerology, and the tale of Osiris’ murder of Set (very clever if totally wicked).
The duke uses some interesting analogies to explain magic to Rex, Richard, and Marie Lou. And they are good points.
People of my generation and older were taught to be polite to everyone. It’s a definite handicap when encountering the bad guys, and examples of when being rude is the better choice should be taught. That’s not to say that being rude is the best choice, but that there are times when it is merited…phone solicitors, for example.
The good guys did make some stupid moves: Rex drove me mad with his stupid decisions about Tanith at the inn. Duh. At the very least consult with the duke instead of falling asleep in the woods! Leaving Fleur unprotected makes me question their intelligence as well. Simon choosing to go against his friends despite the logic of their decision. And poor Richard, having to go a whole day without his drinks and meat…
Phew, these adventures make me so very appreciative of cell phones!
The Story
It must be truly important for Simon to miss the reunion dinner with the duke and Rex. And the duke is even more worried as Rex discovers. Since their friend is too important to them both, the men repair to Simon’s new house where they discover the depths to which he has sunk.
For Simon is the key to an evil ritual, and Mocata will never let him go. And the duke must convince his friends that magic is real.
It’ll be crazy chase scenes, mad escapes, kidnappings, stopping a Black Mass, and the fourth dimension before it's over.
The Characters
The Duke de Richleau, a.k.a., Greyeyes, is an elderly French exile (due to his involvement in the 1890s Royalist rising), art connoisseur, and dilettante one can count on in all things. He has studied the Right Hand Path, White Magic. Max is the duke’s man.
Simon Aron, a stoop-shouldered Jewish man with a very sudden interest in astronomy and gardening, is about to be baptized “Abraham”. Rex Van Wyn is a wealthy young man who enjoys sports of all kinds. His father is a banker and runs The Chesapeake Banking and Trust Corporation. Richard Eaton has married the Princess Marie Lou, and they have a daughter, Fleur. They sold off the lesser stones of the Shulimoff treasure to provide the princess with an independent income. They currently reside at Cardinals Folly in the country. Jim is a gardener; Malin is their butler; and, they have a nurse for Fleur.
The Assistant Commissioner at the Metropolitan Police is a personal friend of the duke’s. Mister Clutterbuck is ex-Scotland Yard who now works as a private investigator. Mr. Jeremiah Wilkes is a retired gentleman’s gentleman who runs The Pride of the Peacocks, an inn near Cardinals Folly. Mizka is an old gypsy woman of Tanith’s childhood. Nebiros is Mizka’s black cat. Retired Detective Verrier identifies the duke. Le Chef de la Sûreté Daudet arrests the duke.
The hypnotist, Canon Damien Mocata, is a French-Irishman and a defrocked Catholic priest as well as a follower of the Left Hand Path, black magic. Madame D’Urfé (a nom-du-Diable of a notorious witch during the time of Louis XV) is a cigar-smoking, overly jeweled, old Frenchwoman. The psychic Miss Tanith (a name taken from the Moon Goddess of the Carthaginians) is an orphan with a death sentence. The Chinaman; the Albino; and, Laurent Castelnau, a French banker, are involved.
The Forbidden Territory is…
…fifth in the Duke de Richleau series series refers to an earlier adventure of the Duke de Richleau and crew.
Different levels of magic mastery include Ipsissimus, Magus, and Magister Templi. The Red Book of Appin . The Talisman of Set is the 14th part that Isis never found. It's also the goal for Mocata, for the fulfillment of his evil plans. A Sabbat is a gathering of those who practice witchcraft and other rites. The Malagasy is the Goat of Mendes, the black magic equivalent of the lamb of God.
The Title
The title is true enough as The Devil Rides Out with both Mocata and the Goat of Mendes traveling all over the place.
October 22, 2019
THE DEVIL RIDES OUT is easily my favorite of the Dennis Wheatley “Black Magic” books that I’ve read. In those other books, I found that he relied too often on character behaviors that were too unbelievable or melodramatic, and spiked his dialogue with with extensive descriptions that brought the story to a screeching halt. Not so in this one.
The premise of this story is that a Master of the Black Arts, Mocata, is seeking the long lost Talisman of Set that will give him unimaginable power. Blocking his way is the Duke du Richleau (reminding me of an elegant Sherlock Holmes) and Rex, a stalwart adventurer. They are hot on Mocata’s trail when he virtually kidnaps their good friend, Simon Aron, and sets him on a dark path.
THE DEVIL RIDES OUT is filled with mystic horrors, hairbreadth escapes, devious henchmen, and one of the nastiest demons I’ve encountered in literature. Being true to it’s time, there is also a seemingly doomed romance with a driven young woman (Tanith) who seeks to rise to her full potential before her prophesied short time on Earth is reached.
The book often reminded me of Bram Stoker’s DRACULA. It is not written in that same epistle or diary format, but it follows that template of characters representing certain established and expected roles, a villain who is always two steps ahead and very, very dangerous, and a rollicking chase against time in the closing chapters.
Without being offensively graphic, THE DEVIL RIDES OUT has a number of disturbing and unsettling moments. The all-out Black Magic assault is nerve-wracking, and a realistic kidnapping of a child has harrowing elements reminiscent of the Lindbergh kidnapping. Suffice it to say that I was always anticipating my next reading session.
Wheatley is aware that involvement with the story revolves around convincing the Reader that Black Magic exists and that the strength of Evil comes from people disbelieving in its existence. That also causes the biggest issue I had with the book. Du Richleau is usually the character selected to convince others that things surpassing our understanding can be real. So, there are occasionally pages of “support” cited to convince the other characters ... and, of course, the Reader. This sharply slows down the narrative except for those who are seeking such level of detail. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen too often.
From his actions and physical description, it was well-nigh impossible for me to see Mocata as anyone other than Aleister Crowley. Wheatley is one of many writers who has invoked “The Wickedest Man in the World.” THE DEVIL RIDES OUT was also made into quite a good Hammer Film. With apologies to Christopher Lee (who was a great Wheatley fan and who portrayed the Duke), the description of du Richleau always called to my mind Peter Cushing.
For the Reader who seeks a crackling good adventure story with a troubled romance and a healthy dose of the supernatural, THE DEVIL RIDES OUT is a very good choice. Add a cozy armchair with a glass of sherry close at hand on a chill Fall night and you’ll have something wonderful.
The premise of this story is that a Master of the Black Arts, Mocata, is seeking the long lost Talisman of Set that will give him unimaginable power. Blocking his way is the Duke du Richleau (reminding me of an elegant Sherlock Holmes) and Rex, a stalwart adventurer. They are hot on Mocata’s trail when he virtually kidnaps their good friend, Simon Aron, and sets him on a dark path.
THE DEVIL RIDES OUT is filled with mystic horrors, hairbreadth escapes, devious henchmen, and one of the nastiest demons I’ve encountered in literature. Being true to it’s time, there is also a seemingly doomed romance with a driven young woman (Tanith) who seeks to rise to her full potential before her prophesied short time on Earth is reached.
The book often reminded me of Bram Stoker’s DRACULA. It is not written in that same epistle or diary format, but it follows that template of characters representing certain established and expected roles, a villain who is always two steps ahead and very, very dangerous, and a rollicking chase against time in the closing chapters.
Without being offensively graphic, THE DEVIL RIDES OUT has a number of disturbing and unsettling moments. The all-out Black Magic assault is nerve-wracking, and a realistic kidnapping of a child has harrowing elements reminiscent of the Lindbergh kidnapping. Suffice it to say that I was always anticipating my next reading session.
Wheatley is aware that involvement with the story revolves around convincing the Reader that Black Magic exists and that the strength of Evil comes from people disbelieving in its existence. That also causes the biggest issue I had with the book. Du Richleau is usually the character selected to convince others that things surpassing our understanding can be real. So, there are occasionally pages of “support” cited to convince the other characters ... and, of course, the Reader. This sharply slows down the narrative except for those who are seeking such level of detail. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen too often.
From his actions and physical description, it was well-nigh impossible for me to see Mocata as anyone other than Aleister Crowley. Wheatley is one of many writers who has invoked “The Wickedest Man in the World.” THE DEVIL RIDES OUT was also made into quite a good Hammer Film. With apologies to Christopher Lee (who was a great Wheatley fan and who portrayed the Duke), the description of du Richleau always called to my mind Peter Cushing.
For the Reader who seeks a crackling good adventure story with a troubled romance and a healthy dose of the supernatural, THE DEVIL RIDES OUT is a very good choice. Add a cozy armchair with a glass of sherry close at hand on a chill Fall night and you’ll have something wonderful.
January 27, 2018
My awareness of this Dennis Wheatley occult classic comes from repeated viewings of the 1968 film version of the story, which as a huge Hammer Horror fan I have seen multiple times. I'd always wanted to find out how the novel ranked alongside the Christopher Lee starrer, and it turns out to be very nearly as good. I haven't encountered Wheatley previously and his writing style is a little bit dated in the long-winded passages of description every time the character enter a new setting, but otherwise this is pacy and exciting, with a great deal of research having gone into the descriptions of black magic rituals and the like. Otherwise, it's a typical early 20th century thriller, with chases, vehicles, a little romance, sinister characters, upper class settings, plenty of suspense, and enough twists to see you through to the end. The whole last quarter of the novel was entirely new to me, given that Hammer didn't have enough money to film it so excised it from the film version entirely.
November 27, 2021
I actually read these books in the wrong order. I should have read this one first and then "Strange Conflict".
The same main core characters are involved in this tale of supernatural shenanigans and messing with the dark side.
I like the way that they aren't all invincible and they have moments of weakness, even the Duke, who is the strongest personality and the most knowledgeable of all things arcane and paranormal.
Damien Mocata isn't such a great villain as Doctor Saturday in "Strange Conflict" but he does the job adequately. I would have liked a little more focus on him as a person, rather than only dealing with his gatherings and his rituals.
It's an enjoyable read with plenty of suspense.
The same main core characters are involved in this tale of supernatural shenanigans and messing with the dark side.
I like the way that they aren't all invincible and they have moments of weakness, even the Duke, who is the strongest personality and the most knowledgeable of all things arcane and paranormal.
Damien Mocata isn't such a great villain as Doctor Saturday in "Strange Conflict" but he does the job adequately. I would have liked a little more focus on him as a person, rather than only dealing with his gatherings and his rituals.
It's an enjoyable read with plenty of suspense.
January 16, 2019
Interesting and totally different for me. Wish I could find the movie now. 3.5 stars
August 1, 2025
Wheatley's mechanisms of storytelling are remarkably constructed. There is a scene where a protagonist has to bluff knowledge of esoteric matters, and later a situation where opponents' conversation is an exquisitely refined duel.
But the whole story hangs off of a context of upper-class British twittery and leans into Satanic imagery and practices that from the context of this middle-class American reader of 2025 is bewildering. After all, if you know that the visitor coming to call on you is the villain, is dangerous, and has a particular unpleasant goal in mind, _why did you let him into your house?_ (I mean: other than to provide a tense narrative scene demonstrating both the diabolic intent and abilities of the villain and the pluck and wit of the protagonist?)
I can't speculate what effect this had on the original audience of 1934, but as of now the blatantly Satanic images and practices feel shopworn. Wheatley does build tension through the various dangers and threats, but it is all hung off of ideas now too easily ridiculed and described too meticulously. I was eye-rolling through the Satanic orgy and finally flipped the table as characters delved into numerology and astrology with how a person's given name effectively cryptographically hashes into planetary influence. While I can't fault Wheatley for doing homework, every digression of this nature has the same stop-the-show narrative effect as describing the characters' frequent snacks.
But the whole story hangs off of a context of upper-class British twittery and leans into Satanic imagery and practices that from the context of this middle-class American reader of 2025 is bewildering. After all, if you know that the visitor coming to call on you is the villain, is dangerous, and has a particular unpleasant goal in mind, _why did you let him into your house?_ (I mean: other than to provide a tense narrative scene demonstrating both the diabolic intent and abilities of the villain and the pluck and wit of the protagonist?)
I can't speculate what effect this had on the original audience of 1934, but as of now the blatantly Satanic images and practices feel shopworn. Wheatley does build tension through the various dangers and threats, but it is all hung off of ideas now too easily ridiculed and described too meticulously. I was eye-rolling through the Satanic orgy and finally flipped the table as characters delved into numerology and astrology with how a person's given name effectively cryptographically hashes into planetary influence. While I can't fault Wheatley for doing homework, every digression of this nature has the same stop-the-show narrative effect as describing the characters' frequent snacks.
December 18, 2018
Ei olnud just kaasahaarav, võib-olla sellepärast, et temaatika on juba üsna äraleierdatud ja Wheatley jutuveeretamisvõimekus on vähemalt siin veel väga konarlik (üks ta varjasemaid romaane ka). Samas tõelistele pulpi-sõpradele oleks see ilmselt väga hea valik. Raamatust saame teada, et head (sinised) vibratsioonid võidavad kurja väe. Kuulake rohkem Beach Boys'i Good Vibrations'it. Muidugi on igast peatükist tunda, et Wheatley on hiljem teistele palju kobedamatele raamatutele-filmidele inspiratsiooni andnud. Parem lugege või vaadake neid. Just vaatasin Chilling Adventures of Sabrina't, ja Wheatley vereliin paistab igast episoodist. Kui aga kedagi spetsiifilisemalt peaks huvitama alkohoolikutest aristokraatide suhe satanismiga, siis soovitaks pigem musta missa episoodi K. Bonfigliori raamatust "Something Nasty In The Woodshed" ("We've all read our Dennis Wheatley at some time or another, Charlie," said Sam.).
April 14, 2022
Old-fashioned satanic pseudo-horror. A group of dashing, wealthy world-wise folks lead by an even more dashing, wealthy, world-wise nobleman. People get kidnapped, manipulated, used in dark rituals. But that doesn't mean we should be uncivilised and not enjoy our day-drinking or a good meal from that fine restaurant with the well-stocked wine cellar.
Of course this was written in a different time, and I guess the characters resemble what people thought was success in a similar way the Kardashians do today. Overall, I thought this book was ok. It's the second Wheatly I read, and while I won't be actively seeking them out, I won't pass them up if I stumble upon any for a good price.
Of course this was written in a different time, and I guess the characters resemble what people thought was success in a similar way the Kardashians do today. Overall, I thought this book was ok. It's the second Wheatly I read, and while I won't be actively seeking them out, I won't pass them up if I stumble upon any for a good price.
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