Book Review: The Slab by Michael R. Collings

I live in a house built in 1950. My wife and I bought the house from a young couple with a small child who were moving out of the area for work. I think they lived there for about five or six years, but I have no idea who lived in the house for the first fifty years of its existence. I have the stereotypical eccentric old busybody neighbor who has lived on the block since the house was built and so I’ve heard a few scattershot rumors over the years. I’ve heard a plumber built the house. I’ve heard that the unfinished attic was converted into the nice, finished two rooms that it is today by a teenage boy who wanted his own bedroom. My neighbor also told me that the kitchen and first-floor bathroom were remodeled – very well, I might add – by a man as a present for his wife while she was away for a few weeks. When she returned from her trip, she gave him a present as well: she told him that she was leaving him for the Native American lover she met while on travel.

None of us really has any idea what goes in our neighbors’ homes, or even in our friends’ and families’ homes when we aren’t around. We have a vague sense when people are home – we see lights, cars, people – we can see who takes care of their yard and who doesn’t appear to care, who gets a new car, or who leaves their trash cans at the curb too long. If we talk to our neighbors, we might know their names and occupations, and they might share some innocent gossip or news about other neighbors. If we’re especially close, we might occasionally have dinner over there or get a tour of their homes. But that’s different. Those visits are, we must admit, a kind of public performance. Those visits don’t really tell us much about the real family who lives there. What are their homes like when guests aren’t around, when it’s just them, their spouse, and their children? Is it the well-kempt, pleasant place it appears to be? Is the husband a tyrant in his own home? The wife a hectoring nag? The children ill-behaved, screaming menaces? And what was the last family like? What happened in the home a decade, two decades, or three ago? Anyone ever die in the house? A house like mine that’s sixty-two years old, well, it’s practically inevitable that someone died in there, or gave birth, or fell down the stairs, or beat their wife or kids, or suffered from an eventually fatal illness. But I really have no idea. I know that it’s a surprisingly well-maintained home, with no unpleasant surprises, and that means that most (all?) of the previous owners have cared enough to maintain it. But who were these people?

And that brings me to THE SLAB. It’s a novel about a house and, necessarily, about the people who built the house and the people who came to live in it over the years. Unlike my house, the house in THE SLAB has some unpleasant surprises for its inhabitants. It’s been home to a number of families, some young couples, some middle-aged, and some in their twilight years. It’s also a place that’s suffered more than its fair share of tragedies.

Some minor plot spoilers follow.

Buying a home is scary business. It’s a huge investment – probably the biggest ticket item most of us will ever purchase – and yet it almost has to be decided on a whim. Sure, you have some basic criteria for the house (rough location, number of bedrooms, if you’re willing to fix it up or not, etc.) but you’re essentially deciding on a home based on how you feel about the place after you’ve visited it a couple times. And then the real fun begins. You have to get someone to lend you the money to buy it unless you’re one of the rare few who can pay for a house with cash. You have to get the place inspected. Is it as nice as it seems? Are there hidden problems? Can you believe what the seller, or your buyer’s agent, or even the home inspector tells you? Most of those folks have major incentives to get you to buy the place no matter what. But what aren’t they telling you?

THE SLAB captures all those hopes and fears. In the case of the home in the novel, there’s a lot each new purchaser doesn’t know. It was constructed by a shady developer and things got violent right from the start. As time marched on, the place deteriorated. It was fixed up at times, and some of the problems were concealed from later purchasers. Some ugly people who did ugly things lived in the house. Not all of them, but enough to leave a, well, kind of a “residue” behind. This is an idea that has been explored at length by some other horror writers (I am think especially of Stephen King). It’s an attractive conceit: the emotions that we all experience don’t simply dissipate, they are absorbed, at least a little, by the places where they happen. The stronger the emotion, the more emotional residue they leave behind. And negative emotions – hate, fear, rage – leave behind very strong residues indeed. These things accumulate over the decades. They might even begin to influence, or attract, the same kinds of negative emotions and experiences. New residents of a home might find themselves unwittingly experiencing the same things past residents did. And in the case of 1066 Oleander Place, the home featured in THE SLAB, that’s not a good thing at all. I should also note that THE SLAB is set in Tamarind Valley, Michael R. Collings’ suburban Los Angeles setting for two other horror novels: THE HOUSE BEYOND THE HILL and STATIC! (clock on those links for my previous reviews). It’s not necessary to have read either of those works to enjoy THE SLAB fully, but knowing that there’s lots of other weirdness going on nearby adds a bit to the appeal of the novel.

THE SLAB is highly recommended. If you require non-stop gore and battles to the death between a plucky protagonist and an implacable and nigh-unbeatable creature from beyond the stars, then this is not the novel for you. But if you like slow-building and under-stated – but not at all boring – psychological horror, then you will enjoy THE SLAB immensely (and that under-stated elegance of the novel is why I have been vaguer than is typical for me about the specifics of the plot). This is a story about what most might think of as a mundane setting – just a simple tract house in a California suburb – and ordinary people. But it’s a story about what happens behind closed doors. And sometimes very bad things happen when we’re in the sanctity of our own homes. I liked this one a lot.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers

Book Review: THE PAPERBACK SHOW MURDERS by Robert Reginald / MURDER OF A BOOKMAN by Gary Lovisi

Two veteran authors and bookmen – the esteemed Robert Reginald and Gary Lovisi – have penned a pair of book-themed murder mysteries that have been packaged as Wildside Mystery Double #5 (format is: flip the book over to read the other novel, just like the old Ace Doubles, remember those?).

Some mild plot spoilers follow, but given that these are mystery novels, I promise not to write anything that would risk ruining your enjoyment of either novel.

THE PAPERBACK SHOW MURDERS by Robert Reginald:

Not surprisingly, this is a murder mystery set at a vintage paperback show. First, a female bookseller with a valuable copy of a vintage paperback lesbian pulp/gothic novel is found murdered in her hotel room. The book in question is, of course, missing. And there are lots of suspects – namely, pretty much everyone at the convention. Our viewpoint character, a male book dealer has a female partner who almost immediately becomes suspect #1 because of her past with the book’s author. Then a drunken horror writer with a new wife is found dead. Further intrigue and shenanigans until another bookseller is murdered. Whodunit? I certainly won’t spoiler you on that, but suffice it to say that this is a light-hearted, fast-paced mystery that will retain your attention.

Not knowing many book dealers or what the behind-the-scenes interactions are like at book shows, I have no idea how well the novel captures the relationships between dealers, but I suspect that many of the archetypical personalities at these shows are being parodied. The foibles, and in some cases, odious personality traits, of all the characters are highlighted front and center. You may not want to hang out with these characters, but they’re certainly a lot of fun to watch as they interact (and kill each other off).

I should also mention that each chapter – and these are quick-moving, short chapters – is opened with a page or so “excerpt” from a pulp novel of the 1950s-early 1970s that serves as a lampoon (or homage) to a particular kind of hack novel from the period. They are hilarious and well worth the price of admission alone.

MURDER OF A BOOKMAN: A Bentley Hollow Collectibles Mystery Novel, by Gary Lovisi:

By the sub-title, I presume that Lovisi intends this to be the start to a new series. This first story centers, unsurprisingly, on book collectors (presumably later stories will focus on collectors of other kinds). These aren’t your run-of-the-mill bibliophiles, these are rabid book sellers and collectors, at least one of whom is ready and willing to kill. The mystery here revolves around the brutal stabbing of a wealthy bookseller. His book listing the values of each book in his extremely large, valuable collection is nowhere to be found. There are tons of suspects: the dead man’s business partner, his wife, the wife’s boyfriend (their pool boy), and his ex-wife, among others. Detective Bentley Little is assigned the case, along with a new partner. Little’s new partner is obnoxious and the pair immediately clash, creating further problems for Little. He’s a bit of a nebbish and still wrestling with the aftermath of what appears to be a pretty messy divorce. As with THE PAPERBACK SHOW MURDERS, the real strength of MURDER OF A BOOKMAN is its characters. Each is just a bit larger-than-life and lots of fun. Lovisi’s knowledge of the used book business and culture really shine through here. The story works very well as a mystery, with a tight premise, cast of characters, and logical investigation, even when Bentley Little’s detective work reveals that – of course – all is not what it appears to be and the murder is just the tip of the iceberg. All too often in mystery novels, the police investigations fall short, but Lovisi has crafted the investigation to be one that won’t have you scratching your head or setting aside because of gaping plot holes.

The book-themed cozy murder mystery genre is one of my favorites, so both novels were right up my alley. They are both terrific and fun short novels. If you are a bibliophile and mystery fan, as I am, I highly recommend this pairing of two very fun short mystery novels.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers

Stephen King Flowchart

I haven’t written much about Stephen King’s work on this blog, but he’s one of my favorite authors. (I believe the only book review I’ve done for his stuff was a review of CELL, which I didn’t like all that much.) I hope to correct that obvious oversight later in the year, possibly with some reviews of his stuff in October. One of the joys for long-term readers is finding all the connections between his characters and novels — it really does form a coherent, inter-connected whole. This is most obvious in the Dark Tower series, but even leaving that aside, the Stephen King universe is rich with connections across the novels. Castle Rock and Derry, to name just two of his fictional settings, have always seemed very real to me. I love it when authors slowly build their settings because it adds a reward for long-term readers (e.g., Michael R. Collings has created Tamarind Valley as a setting for some of his horror novels, and of course H. P. Lovecraft created Arkham, Innsmouth, Miskatonic University and all the rest, to name just two authors who have done something similar).

The point of this post is to share with you a flowchart that attempts to map some of these connections in Stephen King’s work. I don’t think she’s captured all of them, and Gillian — the creator of the flowchart — purposely avoids the Dark Tower series, but it’s a fun start. Here’s the link to her original post on the subject where you can see a much bigger version of the flowchart.

Requiescat in pace: Ray Bradbury

Ray Bradbury has died at the age of 91. The New York Times has done a nice obituary for him available here. There are many others sprouting up all over the Internet.

I don’t normally post author tributes or obituaries, but Ray Bradbury was one of my favorite authors growing up. He was my introduction to science fiction and horror (Tolkien introduced me to fantasy fiction). I read and enjoyed all his major short story collections and novels: Fahrenheit 451, Something Wicked This Way Comes, The Martian Chronicles, The October Country, The Illustrated Man, Dandelion Wine, I Sing the Body Electric, etc. If I had to pick just a single, favorite Bradbury story it would probably be “Homecoming,” but they’re all terrific. I also recently had the privilege of seeing the film Fahrenheit 451 in 35mm on the big screen just a couple months ago.

I have disturbingly few of Bradbury’s books in my collection — though I do have a number of his stories in various anthologies I own — probably because I read so much of his work from the library. I will have to correct that deficiency in my own library.

Let me just close by posting the links to my blog posts from 2010 on Rachel Bloom’s comedic but not-suitable-for-work song about Mr. Bradbury and his reaction to the song (here and here). By all accounts, he enjoyed the song and took it with the good humor it was intended, so I think it’s a fun tribute t an author who has left a lasting impression on so many people over the decades.

Book Review: The Yard by Alex Grecian

A debut novel, this was an enjoyable police procedural set in post-Ripper Victorian London. I appreciate that the author decided to set a detective novel – and one involving a serial murderer – in Victorian London, but made it only tangentially connected to the Jack the Ripper case. While I enjoy Ripper-related stories as much as the next Victorian crime fan, it’s a story that’s mostly been done to death. Jack wasn’t the only killer in London in the early 1890s, and it’s about time we read about some of the others.

Some minor plot spoilers follow, but I will absolutely NOT ruin the mystery for you.

The tale begins with the shocking murder of one of Scotland Yard’s detectives, who has been inexplicably stabbed to death and stuffed in a steamer trunk at a train station. While Scotland Yard has created a new murder squad of detectives dedicated to solving London’s homicides in the wake of the unsolved Jack the Ripper killings, ordinary citizens have mostly lost confidence in the police. And now one of their own has been killed.

We have three protagonists: Inspector Day, a newly-wed, inexperienced detective who has just joined Scotland Yard; Constable Hammersmith, a stalwart policeman who managed to escape from a childhood of desperate poverty; and Dr. Kingsley, a caring but absent-minded widower with a great personal interest in criminal forensics. They begin the novel working to solve one murder and end up investigating a series of killings, some only tangentially related to the rest.

THE YARD moves quickly and is engaging. The protagonists are well-developed (we even see some interesting tidbits from their pasts in flashback chapters) and the secondary characters interesting, quirky, and memorable. The novel’s plot hangs together coherently, an absolute must for a police procedural. Its also relatively complex, with lots of moving parts, but at no point does the plot become confusing for the reader. The criminology used to solve the murders, true to form, is rather crude and relies on lots of legwork and a bit of luck. It’s a very well put together story and I look forward to more from the author.

This is not to say that the work is entirely without blemishes. This is one of those police procedurals that provides the identity of the murderer early on, and includes periodic interludes from this individual’s perspective. If you don’t mind those, then this won’t be a problem, but I prefer for the villain’s identity and motives to be left uncertain for as long as possible. One of the protagonists, Kingsley, is a physician who is interested in the cutting-edge use of fingerprints to solve crimes. While it’s an interesting element, and shows his progressive outlook, as it turns out, the fingerprinting aspect of the case is almost entirely superfluous. As such, I’d have rather had it excluded. The main sub-plot – somehow related to a dead boy stuck in a chimney, an unpleasant physician and his wife, and two prostitutes who always seem to be lurking about – remains mostly opaque and unsatisfying. Either more should have been done with this sub-plot or it should have been left out entirely. And, I must admit, the crimes are wrapped up a little too quickly and neatly in the climax; this produces a finale that wraps everything up thoroughly, but in a slightly unsatisfying way. I’d have liked to see that complicated a bit. I don’t want to focus too much on these issues, as none prevent the novel from being thoroughly enjoyable. I am really just quibbling with a few of the author’s choices.

THE YARD is highly recommended to those who like period crime fiction. It’s well done, and a strong debut novel. It seems clear that there will be a sequel, and I suspect that Alex Grecian’s second effort will be even stronger. The cast of characters he has assembled have a lot of potential for additional stories, and the setting is ripe for further exploration. I’m looking forward to it.

Review copyright 2012 J. Andrew Byers