Paging Dr. Brite:

A Review of The Devil You Know

Brite, Poppy Z.  The Devil You Know.  Burton, MI: Subterranean Press, 2003. 198 p.

This most recent collection of Brite's short stories reminds me of the work of Joyce Carol Oates, with one notable exception: it doesn't bore the crap out of me. Yes, dear reader, it's time for me to make a horrible confession, one that might get me tossed out of my profession as an instructor of English at our state's flagship university, or at least give some of my colleagues yet another reason to question my judgment. I don't think Joyce Carol Oates is all that great, and I am tired of having colleagues suggest I include her in the syllabi for my horror courses, perhaps out of their helpful attempts to keep me from perverting young minds with what they view as sad trash filled with gratuitous sex and violence. Oates is a fine mainstream and gothic writer in her own way, but from my perspective as a horror critic, she often pulls her punches. This is unforgivable, and ultimately causes me to yawn when reading much of her work. In The Devil You Know, Poppy Z. Brite shows that she has the literary talents of Oates, yet her stories are compelling because she knows when not to be subtle.

The Devil You Know is a collection of her short fiction that, for the most part, recently appeared elsewhere, in other anthologies, e-zines, chapbooks, etc. Nevertheless, the stories selected for inclusion in this collection were chosen with care; while they're not all united by a common theme, they all fit together well stylistically. Brite's alter ego, Dr. Brite, New Orleans coroner and gourmand, makes an appearance in several of the stories, and over half of them are about food, restaurants, cooking, or chefs.

Dr. Brite, the collection's most frequently recurring character, loves to eat, yet she remains thin since she never finishes anything unless it is absolutely exquisite. The collection's title piece, "The Devil You Know," is set during New Orleans Carnival in 1985 and features the parents of serial killer Jay Byrne from Brite's novel Exquisite Corpse. The devil, incognito as William Z. Bubb, comes to New Orleans with his bossy cat and decides to join society and participate in Mardi Gras. He secures a coveted spot on one of the floats in the crew of Onan, where ironically, their theme for that year is mythical creatures. But the Devil's cat refuses to behave and insists on riding with his master, eventually causing consternation among the crew members of Onan.

In "Death, Where is Thy Spatula?" Dr. Brite is willing to make any sacrifice to resurrect one of her favorite chefs when he turns up dead in her office. "Marisol" is the second of the Dr. Brite tales, and describes the particular grisly fate of critics who badmouth the restaurant named in the title. In yet another Dr. Brite tale, "The Heart of New Orleans," the stress of her job as coroner wears on her when she meets in a dream the apparition of a child she autopsied that day. Matthew Stubb's abortive life is similar to the brief existence of John Kennedy Toole (A Confederacy of Dunces, his major novel, published posthumously after he committed suicide) in that he always planned to write a novel about the true heart of New Orleans, whose characters would have been strikingly similar to Kennedy's own.

And then there are the stories which do not feature the good doctor, but which are no less fascinating. The protagonist of "Lantern Marsh" has an obsession similar to Linus Van Pelt's fascination with The Great Pumpkin in that he too shares a special relationship with mythical creatures that haunt a particular place. But unlike Linus, Noel is never disappointed as these creatures always appear, especially to him, and ultimately help him protect their habitat. "The Ocean" recasts the maenads as crazed teenaged fans who demonstrate their adoration of a particular rock star by devouring him. "Pansu" is one of the few stories not set in New Orleans. Here, one of the owners of a Korean restaurant becomes demon-possessed during her table service and is in need of an exorcist. The particular demon possessing her body does so because it desires something his fleshless form cannot have: the ability to taste fine food. "Burn, Baby, Burn" is reminiscent of Stephen King's Carrie in that the protagonist is an adolescent in possession of a dangerous supernatural ability, but unlike Carrie, she is more truly able to comprehend the horror of having such powers. "Bayou de la Mere" deals with folklore and the ambiguousness felt by some when rejecting a childhood faith. G-Man, one of the collection's recurring characters, feels that even the statues condemn him for his lapse in religious observance when he visits a small country bread and breakfast with his lover Ricky.

I found myself taking Dr. Brite's advice while reading this collection. Instead of skimming, as I am wont to do since my various roles as teacher and editor necessitate a heavy reading load, I couldn't put this book down. Instead, I devoured it whole in less than 24 hours.