Status Updates From Herald of the Hidden & Othe...

In a village with little secrets running about, that crazy old lady might not be so crazy after all. Maybe she sees things as they really are and, if so, she'll fit right in with those that know "Their Special Glee". It's s story of fok and horror, of a sort, but of a subtle sort that never confronts one directly, but nips at the heels and toes. Clever and sly in little ways, I loved this understated tale.

Odd. Though one of the earliest stories in the volume, chronologically-speaking, "Woken by Candlelight" reads like Valentine's later, more mature works: subtlety of mood, languid action, an emergent realization of wisdom in the form of a mystical revelation. This beautiful tale is a herald of things to come in Valentine's poetry, the Connoisseur, and The Nightfarers. Definitely re-readable. A top story!

I've played cricket twice in my life, both times when I lived in England as a teen. I still have no idea what I was doing. But one need not know the game well to appreciate "Twilight at Little Brydon Cricket Club". And I do appreciate the story. But I suppose I would have to have some sentimentality about cricket, which I do not possess, to truly love the story. Still, it's a quaint, slightly haunting piece.

"Tree Worship" is a mythic idyll of understated tone, but brilliant atmosphere, a good story to read as winter turns to spring. It is a thread of pagan Genius Loci only briefly interrupted by modern intrusion, a suburban hiccup preceded and followed by the long, steady breathing of the land itself.

Words are important, even critical. But Valentine's tale of crucial misunderstanding in "Go to the West," which could have become a mere trifle of a story, something that any child could write, is instead transformed by the last sentence. Oh, those words are so critical. You must understand. You absolutely must!

"The Guardians of the Guest Room" is a ghost story proper, something that would have been right at home in the four-color horror comics of the pre-code era, but with a notch up in eloquence. I'd be curious to see this one illustrated in that old, '50s graphic style. Valentine would have at least one customer for this grisly comic, namely me.

"The Almanac" is, thus far, my favorite story of this volume. It shows a growing maturity in Valentine's writing, something that would later manifest in The Connoisseur stories. The unresolved mystery adds to the weirdness, taking it a notch further than those clearly-explained revelations of earlier tales. There's an abstract quality to it that I love about Valentine's work, that I consider his "signature".

Valentine takes a shot at colonialism, by way of Ralph Tyler, in "Heritage of Fire". I honestly thought the esoteric investigator was going to meet his end here, but then who would explain the cultural implications of English development in the denouement, had he died? Someone has to bring bad news to capitalist developers, I suppose.

"Herald of the Hidden" is the closest I think I've seen Mark Valentine get to "cosmic horror," though of a decidedly English variety, meaning that those horrors are rooted deeply in the history, nay, pre-history of Avalon. Here is a glimpse (and we almost see altogether too much) of what came before, of what lurks in the hills and dales among the trees. It's a wonderful sort of departure from his "typical" work.

"The Hermit's House" is a little more straightforward than most of the stories in this volume. Make no mistake, it is firmly in "the Weird," but the resolution is fairly straightforward. A simple plot, but written so well (as Valentine always writes) that it can't just be dismissed as a "minor" story. Valentine's pen lends weight to what otherwise be a flighty, ephemeral tale.

I loved the gothic and morose "William Sorrell Requests . . ." a great deal. The dreary funerary atmosphere lends the perfect backdrop to a story of either mass hysteria, possession, or communal guilt. Or, perhaps none of these. But then, maybe all of them. Only William Sorrell knows for sure, and dead men tell no tales, as they say. Brilliantly gray and sodden, this story sticks in the brain.

"The Grave of Anir" is an unsurprising story, but satisfying. The ending is something straight out of the M.R. James playbook. A nice Arthurian mystery that may or may not be a ghost story.

"The Ash Track" struck me on a couple of different emotional levels. First, the story itself, which I won't spoil, is melancholy and poignant, thick with pathos. Secontly, it takes place, partially, in Bedford, which is the city I lived closest to while living in the UK, so there's some emotional resonance there for me. Who knows? I might have walked the Ash Track myself, given my many ramblings bout the countryside?

Ralph Tyler differs from The Connoisseur remarkably in one way, as evinced in "Madberry Hill": he is not above rank deception and might (and does) willingly endanger others to sate his curiosity about the supernatural. I had earlier thought that Tyler might be a rougher version of The Connoisseur, and now I'm convinced of it. Ah, the recklessness of youth! Slap a patched denim battle jacket on that young man!

"The Folly" was anything but. A clever tale with a moralistic streak, it will appeal to many a vegetarian, and cause horror in the hunter. I note that Ralph Tyler is a less refined and less controlled individual than The Connoisseur. A sort of Hardy Boy to the Sherlock. My opinion on that might change, but for now, the comparison is apt.

Maybe it's because I've been listening to Watain and Cult of Fire while reading, but Ralph Taylor, lead protagonist of "St Michael & All Angels" strikes me as The Connoisseur dressed in a denim jacket, black jeans, and high tops. That picture is probably all wrong, but it's how I pictured him and I'm sticking with it.