Talking In Obscurity, "At the Mountains of Madness" by H.P. Lovecraft

 

Or Download This Episode Here: https://mcdn.podbean.com/mf/web/5wtsw4/Mountain_of_Madness_Edit_podcast_a6ci8.mp3

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, my dear Obscurists. I apologize for being on such a sparse and erratic upload schedule, but I have a good one for you today.

Speaking of distance, Steven and I are taking you to a faraway destination, "At The Mountains of Madness," by H.P. Lovecraft, not once but twice in this double feature review. Today we compare the novella version of this story, written by the man himself, and Dark Adventure Radio Theatre's adaptation of this story as a radio drama. Dark Adventure Radio Theatre is part of The H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, so if you want to check them out, click the link below.

Author's Website: https://www.hplhs.org/index.php

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"Dead Station" by Aaron Beardsell--Fiction Review

Tonight Obscurists, things go bump in the stars! Gear up for a sci-fi horror story with Aaron Beardsell’s “Dead Station.”

What I love about this book:

“Dead Station” was pitched to me as a mix between “Alien,” “Event Horizon,” and “The Thing,” three sci-fi horror stories I absolutely adore—and Beardsell, one hundred percent, hits those notes pitch perfect. For better or worse, a lot of genre fiction is marketed by what it’s like. A lot of the time, the first question about a story is, “what is it like?” And to be honest, it’s usually an interpretation of whether or not a story is “like” another story or not. So it’s genuinely impressive how laser-like accurate Beardsell is on what “Dead Station” is like.

What “Dead Station” is, is a short story collection. And as with any talented short story writer, I’m jealous. In my fiction, my attempts at short fiction tend to balloon on me. I’m often reminded of the Abraham Lincoln quote, “I could write shorter sermons, but when I get started, I’m too lazy to stop,” never mind if he actually said that or not, I like it, and it reminds me of my plight. Beardsell pulls off all the essential qualities of a plot in each story and does it with brevity and style. 

This next point is minor spoiler-esque, not anything to spoil the plot, but more character motivation that I need to bring up. I have often said that I like my human antagonists to have motivations and my Lovecraftian nightmare monsters to be unknowable. That’s the rule I live by, and “Dead Station” flat out defies that preference of mine, and god damn it if I didn’t fucking love it. We get a peek into the ultimate-terror-from-beyond-the-stars’ mind, and, from its perspective, it feels like it’s being friendly. It’s bringing people together—making friends—and that childlike exuberance is terrifying. “Dead Station” is an object lesson that rules are great to know, but if you’ve got a good angle on something—break whatever rule you need to achieve that effect.

What I don’t love about this book:

The human characters we follow through these short stories are great quick sketches, but that’s all they are, partly due to the short story form, so there isn’t much that could be helped there. Every time I felt I was getting in a groove with a character, learning who they were and how they thought, that story was about over. The ultimate effect is none of the human characters achieve much of an emotional response from me.

It’s eluded to that there is a company a lot like Weyland-Yutani in this universe, and I never understand how these companies grew to such power to supposedly control everything. These sci-fi horror story companies choose evil at each step, even when it doesn’t make sense. It’s the Umbrella Corporation conundrum, as I call it. For instance, how does Umbrella keep getting investors? Because their primary preoccupation seems to always be; to build a secret illegal bioweapons lab underneath everything, have the laxest laboratory procedures to guarantee an accident, and get 99 percent of their workforce killed. Repeat. Not the most effective business model. And sure, real companies can be evil too, but they’re typically much better at least pretending they’re not. So it’s not my favorite trope.

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as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases

Author’s Website: https://allmylinks.com/aaronbeardsell

Analysis:

“Dead Station” is an extremely quick read, a fantastic time burner if you need one. Beardsell clearly has bigger ideas for this universe, but don’t expect them to be fully fleshed out in this collection.

Overall, these stories know what they are and embrace their core concept. There aren’t any sub-plots, extraneous detail, or character study—it is a straight arrow of high concept. Each story rolls out precisely on message. The first is a mysterious dead station from which a desperate crew needs to get supplies; horror ensues. The second is another station from a child’s perspective while the initial horror is ongoing. The third is a dogfight in space against a Lovecraftian-style horror. There is also a bonus story. 

Like the stories it’s compared to, expect quick and terrible violence. Beardsell’s distinctly clinical style makes his narrative especially sharp, which serves his overall aesthetic of to-the-point storytelling.

Parting thoughts:

I love sci-fi horror. It might be my favorite sub-genre. So I’m easily sold on stories like “Dead Station.” But it’s a hard sub-genre to pull new readers into; usually, they will be recruited from people who are already fans of sci-fi or horror.

Fans of such macabre stories tend to be enthusiastic about their favorite stories and love talking about them. But the community is rather insular, which I think is a holdover tradition from both parent genres of science fiction and horror.

If you want to write a sci-fi horror story, great! I think Beardsell proves that with keen insight and clarity, these kinds of stories can be quick successes with a cult audience.

The appeal to the broader mainstream, though, is, and always has been, even back to Lovecraft’s day—rare. 

I’ve often lamented this issue with horror stories in general, and it feels all the more true for the sub-genre. There are no actual examples of stories or authors in this subgenre that have lit the world on fire like Tolkien did for high-fantasy with “The Lord of the Rings.” “Alien” or “The Terminator” might come close. Also, I think a pretty good argument can be made for “Godzilla,” but they’re still not as iconic as, say, “Batman” in superhero fiction or “Harry Potter” in children’s Fantasy. Also, each of my examples are movies with a whole visual component to them that a novel—at least at first—lacks.

It’s not that I think it’s impossible to do—fear and the drive to survive are perfectly valid core emotional structures to build a narrative off of since they’re universal. I just don’t think it’s ever been done before. It is interesting to imagine what a sci-fi horror story that reaches cultural saturation would look like.

"Annihilation" by Jeff VanderMeer--Fiction Review

In today’s review, we’re visiting Area X in Jeff VanderMeer’s “Annihilation,” which is one of my absolute favorite examples of modern-day weird fiction/cosmic horror.

***The Non-Spoiler part of this review***

What I love about this book:

The first thing I want to talk about—that I love about this book—is the fact that none of the characters have names in the traditional sense. Everyone is just identified by their role on the team during the expedition, and our protagonist is the Biologist. It really adds to the whole weirdness of the story.

As cosmic horror, “Annihilation” is a high-water mark of the subgenre. I’ve heard VanderMeer called the weird-Thoreau before, and I can tell you it’s deserved high praise. More than anything, “Annihilation” is an atmospheric book to such a finely honed degree that I found myself getting lost in VanderMeer’s lush descriptions of Area X.

There is a pervasive feeling of dislocation throughout the narrative of this book that mocks any form of human intent or investigation. Area X is determinedly unknowable in every sense of the word. It’s a kind of horror that is constant pressure, unlike the jump scare sort, which is all short, intense bursts. Everything—every element of this story—serves that feeling from the human characters not having names but titles, to the bizarre environment of Area X, and how the characters investigating it even got there, or why.

What I don’t love about this book:

“Annihilation” is a short book, and typically, I enjoy a good short book—I’m addicted to hearing, “Audible hopes you’ve enjoyed this program,”—but in this case, it leaves me wanting more, a little more time in Area X. This is what makes the next book in the “Southern Reach Trilogy,” so frustrating for me because it takes place just outside of Area X. The third book scratches that same itch as the first one but there feels like something missing from the whole formula so, it’s only nearly as good. This is more a critique of the series as a whole, but if “Annihilation” had a bit more to it, I don’t think I would be left wanting more.

Half of the expedition team isn’t as fleshed out as the other half. VanderMeer spends all this time creating subtle character development and hints of back story for the Biologist and the Psychologist that the character work for the Surveyor and the Anthropologist suffers noticeably. It isn’t clear why they’re there in the first place. As for the Biologist, or Ghost Bird, as her husband calls her, she’s there, you discover, because she’s an odd bird—sorry, it had to be done. 

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as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

Author's Website: https://www.jeffvandermeer.com/

***The Spoiler part of this review***

***Ye be warned to turn back now***

The quick and dirty synopsis:

We start “Annihilation” with four women, the Biologist, the Psychologist, the Surveyor, and the Anthropologist. Beyond their titles, we’re never told their names. Everything starts shortly after they enter the mysterious Area X, a coastal location that has been quarantined and studied for the last thirty years. This is the twelfth expedition into Area X. The Biologist, our protagonist, is the wife of one of the members of the eleventh expedition. That expedition was thought lost, but mysteriously, members of the eleventh expedition returned home with no memory of how they got out of Area X. They all soon died of terminal cancer, including the Biologist’s husband.

"14," by Peter Clines--Fiction Review

I wanted my first review to be of “14” by Peter Clines.

***The Non-Spoiler part of this review***

What I love about this book:

It’s neo-Lovecraftian horror that somehow manages to feel very light, like an episode of friends that takes an unexpected hardcore turn into Cthulu-Ville.  I also love its ensemble cast of characters who are all compelling in their own ways. Finally, and the biggest reason I love this book, I’m enchanted by the vocal talents of its narrator, Ray Porter, for the audiobook edition—yes, I’m one of those.

“14” does exactly what I want in modern-day cosmic horror. It keeps all the stakes of perception stretching nightmares, and it updates the characters to make them more relatable than just the stuffy professor type who stumbles upon a moldy old book. So, when bad things start happening to the characters, you genuinely care about their fates. Lovecraft, a pioneer of stories like this, didn’t always bother to name his characters, making it hard to care about them when things from beyond the veil of ordinary reality drove them insane. Oh no—that… guy—went nuts and jumped out of a window! I will forever remember fondly how frightened he was of fish people. 

I credit Peter Clines for reawakening my enthusiasm for writing and great storytelling at a time when I had walked away from this art form. It is my favorite novel that I’ve read as an adult, it’s the first book I always recommend, and you should buy it.

What I don’t love about this book:

There isn’t much of anything I don’t like about “14,” which isn’t to say that it’s a perfect work of literature—I don’t believe perfection is possible. Subjectively, for me, all of its constituent elements of plot and character development work in a way I find pleasing. I often find myself picking a random moment in the story and relistening to the rest of the book from there—yes, sometimes that’s the very beginning—in an attempt to inhabit that headspace I experienced the first time I read the novel. Now I get that this is starting to sound like more reasons why I love this book, dear probably no other human being ever until aliens from Alpha Centauri are sifting through the wreckage of our collapsed society and only come across my blog to ascertain what our culture was like reader. But, where I’m going with this is with great familiarity inevitably, you can’t help but see little defects.

First off, as much as I love the dialog between characters, there are a few kitschy moments. The major one I’m thinking of is one character mentions Torchwood—which I’ve never seen, and I’m sure is a lovely program—but nobody in a group of people greater than three, who vary wildly in demographics, such as age group, asks, “what’s that again?” Everyone gets it, and the banter continues without missing a beat, which was probably a conscious decision by the author to keep the flow going, but I’d argue it feels a tad inauthentic.

This leads to my next point, every character, who are the protagonists—or orbit the protagonists in a friendly way, share essentially the same sense of humor, a light form of sarcastic gallows, which if you’ve read the preceding paragraphs, you’ll understand why it resonates with me. Groups of friends do tend to have similar senses of humor but are less likely, to have the exact same sense of humor, differences in experiences make that sort of thing unlikely. This means that how the characters talk doesn’t always sound exactly like how people actually talk. I would also argue that in fiction, we don’t really want characters to talk precisely how people actually speak in the real world, because real-world people do things like, um, you know add words and things improbably, and like, um, incorrectly, and repetitively, while sorta babbling on, stalling for time, because they sorta drift off, forgetting their original, you know, point they were driving at, at the beginning of their run-on sentence.

This preview is an Amazon Affiliate link; 

as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases

Author's Website: https://www.peterclines.com/

***The Spoiler part of this review***

***Ye be warned to turn back now***

The quick and dirty synopsis:

The story opens with a man running away from a group of people while bleeding to death. He knows he’s going to die and is cool with it, just so long as the mysterious people don’t catch him and get him to reveal something that would kill everyone—not a few people, or a lot of people, all the people.