Review | Dolly by Susan Hill

Readers of horror are a sorry marginalized lot. If their ghosts are not competing, and losing, to Swedish serial killers, then they're up against sexy immortal vampires. Ghosts are immortal too you know! So imagine my pleasure, my absolute delight, when I am shown to a section at Waterstones Piccadily devoted to headless children, haunted homes and dark adventures. Three floor to ceiling shelves filled with atmosphere, that whistle in the dark that would have been the wind between the trees, or was it? Well you just had to be there. 

One of the best part's about Waterstones' is the employee recommendation cards stuck underneath the book and Dolly's iridescent green cover immediately stood out.  This little gem of a book is bound in green hardback and is the perfect library addition. I just stood awhile admiring the gorgeous cover; a dilapidated baby suspended in creeping embossed ivy that just jumps off the page and right into your nightmares.

Susan Hill is the queen of the contemporary ghost story. Her The Woman in Black has been playing in the west end for countless years and it was just made into a film starring Daniel Radcliff aka Harry Potter aka the man who went naked next to a horse. She has four ghost stories to her name and many more novels as well as non-fiction titles. 

It opens with an adult Edward Cayley, the protagonist for most part, returning back to Iyot Lock, a place where he spent one childhood summer when he about twelve, along with his thoroughly spiteful nevertheless pretty cousin, Leonara, “a white-faced child with a halo of red hair”. They arrive at their Aunt Kestral's house, Iyot lock, a simple yet bleak isolated Victorian home with the de rigueur dim lighting but nothing to suggest anything was out of the ordinary. He goes back in time to narrate listless summer days walking around the fen's, nights spent ignoring the merciless howling wind. The two cousins are children of Aunt Kestral's younger sisters, one dead, the other a fluttering socialite only too happy to get rid of her daughter. The days merge into each other, each one only distinguished by Leonora’s tantrums, which begin parallel to strange otherworldly incidents like a moment when the two of them glance at their reflections in a lake and don't like what they see. The tension is palpable and everything comes to head when Leonara does not receive a doll she has had her heart set on for years. A scream pierces the sky and the world changes after that for the both of them. One small event follows the two of them through adulthood and culminates when Edward returns, in a whisper. 

Susan Hill circumvents all the cliche's through language and the unpredictability of children. You know everything is connected to that one moment but you don't know how or why. Her language is like music, but never suffocating. The contrasting personalities of the two children are stark and no dialogue is self-indulgent. It is simple, direct and quick, storytelling at it's best. "It was almost as if I were playing the old childhood game of Hide and Seek, one in which the inner sense was saying 'Cold' 'Cold' 'Warm' 'Very Warm'. 

At the heart of this classic ghost story is probably recompense and retribution. It also reflects on why perhaps evil doesn’t touch all of us and is more attuned to those who are conducive to it. Is evil inherent or a by-product of upbringing? The book rushes at the chilling pace and will probably take last than a couple of hours to read. It's like a capsule of time between pages and not meant for train rides or that odd read while you wait at the doctor's office. It requires complete focus. Dim the lights, get yourself a cuppa tea or a glass of wine and find an old comfortable chair. Now you're set to encounter a few things that go bump in the night. 

Revival Review | The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty

The year is 2012. We are surrounded by vampires- most of them ridiculously good looking. Werewolves are largely misunderstood, but still manage to find the time to work on their abs in between bouts of angst ridden brooding. The world’s most watched television drama is about a zombie apocalypse. Three of this year’s most successful animated movies center around a young boy who can speak to ghosts, a dead dog brought back to life and a luxury resort for monsters run by Count Dracula.

Horror has become a pop culture staple, never more so than when it comes to demonic possession. In the last year alone we’ve been subjected to The Rite, The Devil Inside, The Last Exorcism and The Possession.   Yup, we’re surrounded by horror. And we love it.

But in 1971, the world was a very different place. Horror was predominantly escapist fantasy for teenage boys featuring classic movie monsters, things from outer space and scantily clad 50 feet tall women. Then along came a book that changed everything. That book was called The Exorcist and it taught us that horror was real, that it was lying in bed, upstairs. Waiting.

                                                                                               Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells was the perfect 

soundtrack to the movie and continues to be haunting.

41 years hence, The Exorcist may no longer be as shocking and visceral a read as it was when it was first published, but it still remains one of the greatest horror novels ever written. As the New York Times Sunday Book Review memorably put it, “The Exorcist is to most other books of its kind as an Einstein equation is to an accountant's column of figures”.

The Exorcist created the original blueprint for what has now become Demonic Possession 101: young, innocent girl is possessed by malevolent demon and is then exorcised by Catholic priest.  But its power lies not in its fairly linear plot, but rather in its tone, manner and immensely compelling style. The Exorcist is not a horror novel written in a literary style. It is a literary novel that just happens to be terrifying.

William Peter Blatty shuns fast and easy thrills in favour of slow paced, simmering characterization. The book’s three principle protagonists - conflicted Jesuit priest Damien Karras, traumatized actress Chris MacNeil and her possessed daughter Regan all become living, breathing people that you actually find yourself caring about. The book’s titular character, Father Lankester Merrin only really joins the proceedings in the last 50 pages, yet at no point preceding this does one feel the need for things to get a move on.

While the 1972 film (as brilliant as it was) relied largely on visual shock tactics to deliver most of it scares, the book is more restrained and instead worms its way into your psyche far more insidiously. It is far more than a simple tale of good vs. evil and raises some profound questions regarding the nature of evil, faith and God himself.

Given the increasing amounts of real world horror that we are exposed to these days and the resultant nonchalance with which we have come to treat it, The Exorcist may no longer pack as terrifying a punch as it did all those years ago. However, its message and its underlying implications have never been more relevant than they have today.  Is an emaciated, foul mouthed, head spinning little girl the only manifestation of demonic possession? What about the child molester? The rapist? The murderer? The terrorist? The man who shoots his neighbour over a parking space?

We often talk about how the world we live in ‘is going to hell’. The Exorcist raises the chilling possibility of that particular metaphor being a little too literal for comfort.

Is The Exorcist ‘the scariest book ever written’? Probably not. But is it one of the most disturbing? Most definitely.Ultimately, the book’s power lies not in its ability to make you want to sleep with the light on (though it’ll do that as well, trust me) but instead in its ability to make you think about your own particular belief system- or lack thereof.

In his poem The Generous Gambler, Charles Baudelaire famously wrote “the most exquisite of the Devil’s wiles is persuading us that he does not exist”.

The Exorcist reminds us that not only does The Devil exist, but that he’s waiting for you. In that little room. Just up those stairs…

A little bit about our reviewer

John Thangaraj is 34 years old, and spends most of his time reading comics, listening to obnoxiously loud metal and playing with his dog (who does not like the obnoxiously loud metal).  He also occasionally finds the time to work, though given that he works in advertising, the actual definition of ‘work’ is ambiguous at best. Having been traumatized by his parents at the tender age of 7 by being made to watch The Omen, The Exorcist and Salem’s Lot in quick succession, he has a somewhat unhealthy obsession with horror and fantasy. His favourite authors include Stephen King, Road Dahl, Bill Bryson and Neil Gaiman. He thinks The Lord of the Rings rules and The Fountainhead sucks.  

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Quick Read | Mile 81 by Stephen King

Hello all!

Yes, I am back from England and Italy with a goody bag of stories to tell and bills to catch up on, but that's for later. For now I want to write about the book that took me through my four hour hold up at the Roma Airport. That and some lovely Italian duty free shopping. What? You give a girl a present like that and don't expect her to open it? Anyway, the book was Mile 81 by Stephen King. This is a perfect little Novella and akin to that bite size Amedei truffle, all you need in one sitting. This was King's response to the dying art of short story telling in America.

The book starts out slow and zooms in on Pete - a normal boring teenager living in a normal boring American one horse town who is being left in the cold while his older brother does way cooler things like smoke and drink.  Gutted to be left behind, he decides to prove himself by spending a few hours alone in a deserted burger king by a highway route, just him and a bottle of Vodka. Like all Stephen King novels, it takes a while to kick in.  Outside a muddy station wagon arrives while he is sleeps off his sorry eventless adventure and then the story hits overdrive.

This isn't a complicated book and it reads like an early work of King's- something cult that he would have loved as a child and would make the perfect drive in movie.  Whatever it is, this is CLASSIC Stephen King. Made me snort in my seat while I sipped some mind-blowing Brunello which in turn made a very genteel lady sitting beside me jolt in disgust. "Don't get your Hermes in a knot." I said to her in my head and continued to snort. It's a perfect introduction to King's work for the unfamiliar and a no-brainer for ardent fans. It's only $2 on the IPAD and is a good way to brighten up a weekday evening.

And if you do happen to fall in love with King, here are some more chilling recommendations. Black House with Peter Straub and a personal favorite of mine that my fellow Blogger is yet to appreciate, Duma Key. I continue to persevere and convert her.

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