Literary horror, you say? Why, that subject just starts fights. And it can’t be answered. It simply can’t. It’s too subjective, and no one – not even ivory tower la-di-da literareh types – knows what ‘literary’ is. So piss off, asshole, and don’t rock the boat. Nickolaus Pacione just posted a personal ad on Craigslist, and we need to make fun of his mentally ill ass keep an eye on him for the safety of the community.
I hear you. It’s not a fair question. You can’t expect a zombie author to write like Joyce or Nabakov; Koetzee or Lessing. You can’t expect a scene of interspecies rape and genital destruction to include conceits and metaphors that hearken back to Evelyn Waugh. You can’t expect to find VS Naipaul’s observations on history and post-colonial identity in Lovecraftian hackwork.
So let me start by saying I’m not looking for that. If I find something like that – and I have, and I’ll tell you about it later in this article – I’ll be very pleasantly surprised.
You see, I would swear some horror writers think horror means ‘horribly written.’ The telling and never showing (‘Life was hard when he was twelve, but he was able to employ the defence mechanisms of childhood’) the passive sentences, the alliterative cliches (‘bulging biceps,’ ‘Bouncing breasts,’ ‘Beer and Bimbos’). I would be happy to read a horror novel that reads clearly and easily. And don’t tell me I just don’t ‘get’ Writer X, or I’m not open-minded enough to appreciate the dreck of Writer Y. Good writing shouldn’t be a genre, it should be a requirement.
So here it is: a list of good writers. A list of writers who know what the hell they are doing. In horror, this is what ‘literary’ mean; by necessity I make the term this broad. These writers make few egregious mistakes, and commit no boners that would get them kicked out of a first year university course. At least two of the writers on this list are undoubtedly and inarguably literary, and I’ll make no apologies for that. If there are a few of you who are new to the wonderful world of horror, but are artistically horrified by what you’ve read so far, then you can read this for a few pointers.
1. Cormac McCarthy – Yup, you heard me. Blood Meridian is the best horror novel ever written. The Road is damn close to horror, and Child of God and Near Dark are unmistakably horror. Both Blood Meridian and No Country for Old Men feature villains that are the most frightening in literature. The heir to Melville, Faulkner, and perhaps even James Joyce (see Suttree for similarities to Ulysses), McCarthy can craft endless, labyrinthian sentences and then fill pages with taut dialogue. Judge Holden, the mighty, Gnostic, child-killing and poly-lingual lawyer, geologist, theist, and Ur-antagonist from Blood Meridian, seems to step off the page as we read the book, moonlight gleaming his bald albino head. Cormac is for neither the faint of heart or faint of mind, but he is a genius. As a bonus for the fan of extreme horror, his novels are more violent and gory than anything from the murkiest corners of the genre.
2. Doris Lessing – Who, you ask? She won the Nobel Prize for Literature, that’s who. Actually, she’s won every prize worth winning. Her relation to horror? Her body of work is colossal, but among the tales of Africa and her science fiction, she wrote a wonderful horror novel called The Fifth Child, which was about a lovely family that gives birth to a murderous evolutionary throwback. Also, she wrote a five-novel series called The Children of Violence. I won’t insist you read it, because it is enormous; but it ends in perfectly-themed apocalypse. Her commentary on mental illness, communism, war, mutation, precognition, race, and class is second to no one. She writes like she is a minor deity cataloguing God’s creations.
This is a small thing, but here it is. Some in the horror community defend bad writing, and instead call it ‘blue-collar writing,’ or ‘working-class writing.’ Lessing grew up rough and sunburnt in the African bush; she worked as a nursemaid and telephone operator. She’s as working class as it gets, and yet she somehow writes beautiful prose. Know who else was working-class? Herman Melville, Don Delillo, Phillip Roth, Saul Bellow. Stephen King, as well. There is no such thing as a working class or blue collar style. Writing is the great equalizer; all you need, at the very least, is a pen and a napkin, and you can write whatever you want.
3. Stephen King – Of course I’m going to mention him: the father to us all. Now sixty-four and still writing very well, he doesn’t seem to be slowing down. His last novella collection was some of his best work in decades. His writing is deceptively brilliant; one only has to read his early collection Night Shift to see the brilliant and effortless economy with words. He is the definitive horror master who has done more than anyone to bring the real into the horrible. Pet Sematary, one of his less successful books, is perhaps his saddest and most horrifying, and full of commentary on pride, gender, and the elemental in all of us. ‘Salem’s Lot, his take on the classic vampire tale, is also about the metaphorical death of a small town. Most importantly, when he writes something, you have to read it. You have no choice. Anyone who reads King knows exactly what I’m saying, even if few know why. Keep at it, Steve, and long may you live and reign, Your Horrific Majesty.
4. T.E.D. Klein – he’s written two collections and one novel. Pathetic, really – he has writer’s block. But that tiny body of work is dark, frightening; he is one of those writers who can really unnerve a reader. Much like in Lovecraft, his character are helpless before faceless powers, great mysteries, terrifying coincidences, and vague threats. His short stories are elaborately crafted pieces, and his novel is one long soak in fear and unease. Petey, from the Dark Gods collection, is a technical standout. Look for his work in second-hand stores (in New York in particular), and online.
5. Laird Barron – another Lovecraftian. His command of language, his obsessive descriptions of creatures that are somehow both cosmic and spiritual, make him a worthy addition to this list. From his first collection The Imago Sequence, read Hallucigenia. After you are done, google ‘hallucigenia sparsa’, and prepare to be creeped out. His stories are well-researched to craft that vague but intricate and intentional feeling of black science and insane genius. His characters are almost always male, alone, and struggling with insanity. I think Lovecraft was writing about insanity throughout his career but didn’t know it; that’s another post.
Barron has written a novel, but it is available by mail, bound in the finest Corinthian leather, and it costs a small fortune. While Barron is a fine writer, I won’t buy something like that in a world where I can buy Lolita for a buck at the second-hand store.
6. Glen Hirschberg – A writer of lovely prose. His work isn’t that scary; The Two Sams, while affecting and wonderfully done, doesn’t grip the reader by the metaphorical balls. Struwwelpeter is suspenseful for a few moments and then only alludes to awful and frightening events in the future. I’d like to see more from Hirschberg before I let him become one of my favorites. But he’s good, no mistake. I want to check out his novels.
7. Tom Piccirilli – I’ve always liked his work, but The Shadow Season really knocked me over. It reads simple, but the threads of disappointment and regret mix in with the suspense to create a novel that is precise yet somehow hallucinatory as well. Picirilli is prolific, and always willing to chat on his blog and on message boards. I’m going to read a lot more of his work in the future.
8. Joe Schreiber – The only writer I’ve ever encountered who comes close to Stephen King for breezy, easy, and yet incredibly rare ease of writing. His work is unquestionably horror, and I have no idea why he isn’t more successful. My favourite is No Doors, No Windows. His plots and set-ups, like King, are not original; it’s how he does it. Look out for this guy.
I have a few more to add, or not add, to this list. I’ve got Glen Duncan’s The Last Werewolf waiting to be read, and I’ve also got Dave Zeltserman’s The Caretaker of Lorne Field. I’m looking forward to the Duncan, because it’s got some real literary cred. The Zeltserman – not so much. The cost of the ebook was ridiculous, and the reviews are suspiciously enthusiastic.
More to come on this subject.
