I Said Hey Baby, Take a Walk on the Darkside…
Pelan, John, ed. A Walk On The Darkside. New York: ROC 2004, 391 p.
12/20/2004
That a series of horror anthologies from a mass-market publishing house has been able to reach its third volume at a time when the genre is mostly confined within the claustrophobic boundaries of independent small presses is undoubtedly a rare—and fortunate—event. So this reviewer begins by bestowing praise on the Penguin-ROC series editor, John Pelan, whose sixth sense and good taste, and uncanny knack for soliciting the right authors has been the secret ingredient for the success of the first two Darkside volumes.
Mind you, I’m not saying that in any collection such as the recent Darkside anthology, featuring twenty-one stories, every tale will be first-rate. Inevitably there will be a few misfires, and some of the stories collected will be no more than ordinary. But most of the tales in Pelan’s latest offering are either excellent, or at least good. Among those well worth a mention here are the opening story, “Crossroads,” in which Don Tumasonis confirms his enormous talent with a tale of black magic featuring a “wanna-be” guitar player who is headed for his own destruction. Also, Mark Samuels, an emerging star in the UK horror scene, contributes with yet another of his Kafkaesque nightmares, this one depicting the world as suddenly and mysteriously invaded by an alien race which mimics human behaviour.
And then there are the other offerings, which continue the promise of the first stories. “Something in the Air,” by Michael Laimo, is an offbeat disaster story (with a touch of SF) about the results of a weird, overwhelming wind. “God’s Fist” shows Paul Finch in great storytelling shape, as he, in his usual vigorous style, chronicles the tale of a former policeman who is trying to atone for the world’s sins. Michael Shea’s long awaited return to short fiction (“Incident Report”) is a superb tale about a deranged cop to whom crime has become as familiar as life’s daily little events. “The Abandoned” is an outstanding piece of fiction, where the always excellent Jeffrey Thomas depicts a Dantesque vision of Hell, as seen through the eyes of a Mexican woman condemned to a hopeless afterlife. Tom Piccirilli contributes with a bizarre, delightful tale of dark eroticism, beginning with the eerie silence of a deserted graveyard, while Brian Hodge provides a superlative, gripping story in “An Ounce of Prevention….” In a long letter to her sister, a woman reveals an obscure episode of her life involving a slightly disturbed teenager, a scrupulous janitor and her desire to avenge the fate of an unfortunate brother. Paul Melniczek’s “Releasing the Shadows” is a subtly allusive tale of psychological horror brought about by a nostalgic return to a never forgotten hometown, where youth’s memories and illusions are starting to fade. Brian Hopkin’s “Whoever Sits by the Shore” is set in a small Quebec town by the sea, during World War I. Whale hunting and the echoes of the distant war produce disquieting ghosts who dwell in the mists on the shore—as well as in the inhabitants’ souls.
With “An Ending,” Steve Rasnic Tem presents us with a further example of his deeply moving masterpieces, which can hardly be labelled as mere horror fiction. With Tem one is always guaranteed of a work of literature with a capital L and with storytelling at its best. In this fitting final tale, this gifted author probes the thoughts, the feelings and the delusions of a man during his final moments of life.
Suffice it to say, I wholeheartedly recommend this anthology to fans of the genre. We must keep in mind that simply contacting a group of seasoned writers and inviting them to send in their stories is in no way a guarantee that the final result will be up to expectations. After all, nobody produces masterpieces every other day, and some authors who find themselves too busy to oblige but too polite to decline, might decide to unearth a (deservedly) unpublished story from the bottom of their sock drawers. However, Pelan seems to be immune to the risks of being betrayed by any group of authors he selects, leaving this reviewer to think that the man must is either incredibly lucky or devilishly clever—or both.