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Banquet for the Damned

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Much of the best in horror fiction comes from writers in the UK, and Adam LG Nevill's novel "Banquet for the Damned" contributes to that distinguished tradition. It's character-driven and suspenseful.

Dante is a young prog-metal guitarist at loose ends professionally and personally. Steadily approaching thirty, he's between bands and between girls, feeling dry creatively - and getting increasingly uncomfortable with his lack of future direction in the industrial city of Birmingham in the English Midlands. Used to having fun and living one day at a time, even he's finding it hard to fight sensations of failure.

Enter Eliot Coldwell, professor in the Department of Theology at St. Andrews University in Scotland's oldest university town. Dante's always admired "Banquet for the Damned," a controversial book Coldwell wrote many decades before, and which Dante credits with inspiring and influencing his life.

When Coldwell invites him to St. Andrews University to take up a position as his new research assistant, all expenses paid, Dante thinks he's gotten the break of a lifetime. He imagines working under the enigmatic Coldwell will give him the creative boost he needs for a new music project, a concept album based Coldwell's ideas and writings. So, with best friend Tom, he packs up his battered Land Rover and heads to St. Andrews.

But things turn out vastly different for Dante. Students at the university are dying in unimaginably horrible ways after suffering terrifying and paralyzing sleep disturbances. Coldwell's career-long involvement in witchcraft and the supernatural have caused him to summon forces far beyond his control. And very quickly, Dante, and a visiting academic, Hart Miller, are fighting for their lives against the vengeful spirit of a long-ago executed witch and her horrifying "familiar," the hideous (and very hungry) Brown Man.

Nevill's writing is controlled - descriptive without ever becoming excessive or overwrought. He creates atmosphere very well ("it is a night empty of cloud and as still as space"), and the old university town of St. Andrews provides the perfect setting. In his descriptions of its buildings and architecture, Nevill has a keen eye for grim, stark detail which he uses skillfully in creating dark tone and mood. In every corner of St. Andrews University, the violence and cruelty of the town's witch-burning past weigh heavily on the present.

Nevill's characters are convincing as flesh and blood people, with quirks and frailties -- but they are likable. Dante and Miller are imperfect heroes, and this heightens the suspense around their fight against a powerful supernatural evil.

Adam LG Nevill has produced a first-rate horror novel, with a plausible and persuasive edge.

So I have a weakness for occult thrillers. It's a problem that goes way back. I've tried to get help for it...well, ok, so I haven't tried to get help, but I probably should. The point is, I really wanted to love this book, but I ended up just liking it. Don't get me wrong, it's an entertaining page-turner, and I do appreciate that Nevill avoided the ubiquitous vampires, werewolves and other tired gothic standbys that have infected current pop culture. But I just wish he'd had a better editor to rein in some of the sloppiness. Nevill, you see, feels he has to describe everything in maximum detail, so that when a character goes from A to B, he treats us to all the details of everything on the path from A to B. Ends up making the book at least a good 50 pages longer that it had to be, and slows down the paciness. Some originality in the occult details would have been cool too. As it is he lifts most of the occult background straight out of Witchcraft and Black Magic, which just felt a tad lazy - some crazy Latin incantations from an old grimoire would have added a bit of spice.
Still, you could do much worse if you're looking for a fun supernatural romp.

I've always thought that the secret to good horror writing lies less in the quality of the portrayal of a story's supernatural elements and more in the effectiveness with which the real world can be evoked; the more accurate those parts of the world with which the reader is familiar, the easier it becomes to accept those deviations and embellishments on reality which would otherwise give rise to disbelief. Credible (and thus more frightening) horror tales build on reality and rely for their effectiveness on the establishment of a sense of trust in the author as an authority on the incredible through their demonstration of empathy with a reader's own experiences.

It is ironic, therefore, that where Adam Nevill's début horror novel "Banquet for the Damned" failed principally for me was not in its horrific supernatural elements but in its piecing together of an altogether unbelievable story setting. The descriptions of St Andrews, on Scotland's east coast of Fife, as a lively student-filled town which is nevertheless something of a back-water, isolated from the world at large, are indeed vivid and compelling; it is easy to see how the town inspired or coloured many elements of this story during the author's time there as a student of creative writing. The author makes good use of the drear moodiness of the north east coast to create a powerful sense of foreboding throughout much of the book, as well as using the town's sense of history and antiquity to suggest at a deep and ancient underlying presence of evil, which has merely been biding its time, waiting for someone to summon it back to power.

Other, more central aspects of the story, however, suggest a long gestation period for the book which has resulted in an eclectic and somewhat incongruous juxtaposition of period pieces that, for me at least, had the unfortunate effect of repeatedly throwing the narrative out of kilter. The story is set in and around a contemporary (2008) University of St Andrews, replete with a student body flush with mobile phones, laptops and other standard accoutrements of modern student life. The main protagonist, however, is a failing heavy metal rock musician, who with his struggle to come to terms with a lack of compositional inspiration for his dysfunctional band's second album, his pursuit of a concept album ideal, and a battered old Landrover that he endlessly fills with leaded 4-star petrol (unavailable in the UK since the turn of the millennium) in spite of having almost no money, seems to have fallen right out of the late 1970s or early 80s. In addition, Nevill's descriptions of university staff, their interests and practices are also hard to reconcile with the true nature of today's universities as efficiency-conscious qualifications factories, rather than the somewhat aloof and eccentric centres of learning they once used to be. Again, Nevill seems to be writing of something from the 1970s rather than the modern day. In fact, I think that had the author made a deliberate and conscious effort to seat this story in the 1970s it would have made for a much more convincing and believable tale. But, all of that said...

"Banquet for the Damned" nevertheless makes for a gripping and exciting tale of the terrors that the night can hold and the power that nightmares wield over the human psyche. The book is well paced and, apart from a short but oddly lumpy patch in the middle where it seems to lose its way in the mire of depressive alcohol-induced angst on the part of almost all of the characters, remains tightly focused on progressing well to its high-octane and terrifying finale. I would suspect that for most readers, the incongruities of the story will be hardly noticeable, or at least not so bad as to detract from the highly evocative prose which make the book a pleasure to read. Although "pleasure" might be an inappropriate word at times, if you don't happen to take delight in having your flesh made to creep and the spine to tingle. For those looking for a good scary read, this could be just the thing. Personally, I'm still trying to get the smell out of my nose!

If you liked this book and are looking for more of the same, Adam Nevill's latest book, "Apartment 16" can also be highly recommended.

I cut my horror teeth on Stephen King, Ramsey Campbell, F. Paul Wilson and Peter Straub. I inhaled entire issues of Cemetery Dance upon arrival. Banquet For The Damned is a throwback to the hey day of horror. You know, when horror was really good. When a story stuck with you far into the night even though you wished it would just go away and let you sleep for Christ's sake. BFTD is is smart, well crafted, driving horror. Dark fiction that keeps your mind picking at the plot, trying to anticipate and decipher. A good adrenaline rush with well crafted characters. Truly literary horror--smart and savvy and addictive to boot. Two thumbs up and a blanket over the head. :)

This book is pretty slow in starting, but once you get into it, it is pretty good. It doesn't move terribly fast, but if you have the energy to put in to it... I liked it overall.

Terror comes in two flavors in Adam LG Nevill's Banquet for the Damned: the one off and the build up. Nevill's use of the former, a tactic that (when you remember that these are just words on a page, and we only care because of our empathy for the characters) really should not work, is done through night terrors. Throughout the first quarter of the narrative, we find ourselves inside character after character's heads. They are not in their beds. They do not know how they got where they are. They have been suffering increasingly disturbing nightmares for days on end. Within a few pages, they will be dead. The inevitability of these sections is horrifying, and I found myself reading as fast as I could, sometimes having to force myself to not skip whole paragraphs, because growing acquainted with these pre-damned characters, understanding their thoughts and what makes them tick, was simply too painful. And, since this is horror, I mean that in the best possible way.

Bed wetting dream sequences are nice - very nice, even - but they alone cannot sustain a novel. In order for an atmosphere to permeate every page, for the suspense to forbid us from even glancing over the top of the book, we need to be grounded in the setting and characters; we need for their every threat to be a mortal one for us as well. In this, Nevill succeeds admirably.

The novel takes place in the college town of St. Andrews. The setting is perfectly realized in the story, both in its grandeur and in the new darkness that begins to creep within it:

"This is a home for learning built from old stones, with an elegance to its arches and courts, and a mystery endowed by its shadows and legends. But the aesthetics have shifted: he can feel it. Something has arrived to disturb the calm, to wind back time and reinstall a grimmer place where thinkers burned for heresy and darkness brought dread to small grey towns." (p.66)

Coming to the town from outside are the key characters of the novel. The first of these is Dante, a washed up heavy metal musician coming to St. Andrews for his last chance at a big break and a chance to meet his idol. Now, it could be argued that, in a St. Andrews housing laptop computers and cell phones, a leather clad rock musician would be more bizarre anachronism than daring rebel, but such a thought doesn't enter your head until long after you've turned the last page.

The reader sees the majority of the story through Dante's eyes, and his emotions and reactions to events often determine our own. When the story starts, Dante is arriving in the town. It's a moment of hope for him, and, though our expectations are obviously colored by the knowledge that we're reading a horror novel, the reader sees St. Andrews as a new beginning, a place where anything can happen, compared to the routines of Birmingham and our own lives. Even then, though, there is a hint of uneasiness to the whole experience, conveyed by the police investigation underway on the beaches as we arrive.

Hope changes to despair, the change marked by Dante's meeting with Elliot. The lead up to and execution of these first interactions between the two are, quite possibly, the heaviest hitting parts of the book. The depths of Dante's admiration for his mentor, coupled with the disillusioning reality of the man, are agonizing to read about. After that, though nothing truly malignant has occurred to our lead, the town takes on a disorienting, unfamiliar feel that it maintains, to great effect, throughout the rest of the narrative.

An excellent result of our reliance on Dante's narration comes about when Dante is, essentially, hypnotized. The scene is like suddenly having the color on your TV cut out, leaving you with half the picture. We can still see Dante's actions, still understand the world around him, but, without warning, we can no longer make any sense of his thoughts. While an effect like this could easily become nothing but baffling, or perhaps just a cause of apathy, it's unsettling and dream like, here.

Our closeness to Dante, however, does bring with it the occasional problem. While our view of Elliot is tempered through the viewpoints of the school's administration, our grasp of Tom, Dante's friend and band mate, is left entirely to Dante's eyes. As a result, while we come to understand and rely on the intricacies of the two musicians' relationship, we never come to care for Tom as a character, rendering any threat to him unmoving to us beyond what effect it has on Dante.

One of my main problems with Nevill's Apartment 16 was that the source of the horror, when it was finally revealed, proved to be unequal to the buildup. While I won't go so far as to say that the source of Banquet's terror is as frightening as our corner-of-the-eye glimpses of it, it doesn't disappoint.

A large part of that is the second of Nevill's two major viewpoint characters, Hart Miller. Hart is a researcher who studies the kind of night terror epidemics that have gripped St. Andrews. His carefully documented, scientific means of looking into what's going on in the early chapters of the book give the town's collective nightmares far more believable weight than they otherwise would have had. Later in the novel, Hart's research into the occult, browsing through a collection of real and invented sources, fleshes out the novel's menace without defanging it.

To refer back (or forward?) to Apartment 16 again, the secondary point of view in that novel, Apryl, felt like she had no existence outside of the strict confines of the plot. In some ways, Hart is the same thing, but here that very one dimensionality becomes the springboard for the character's growth. Up until this point, Hart's life has been wholly focused on night terrors and, at first, the events at St. Andrews seem as much an opportunity as a threat. As the book progresses, however, and as the danger grows more and more personal, Hart tries to take a step back - and realizes that, not only can he not flee the darkness in the town, he has nothing to flee to. Though not uplifting reading, the character's questioning of both his efficacy and purpose are powerful moments.

A large part of Banquet for the Damned's atmosphere comes from Nevill's prose. The writing here is never flowery - think a gateway rather than a stained glass window - but its simplicity belies the clarity, precision, and feeling that comes through every word. Take the opening paragraphs of the novel, for instance:

"It's a night empty of cloud and as still as space.

Alone, a young man walks across a deserted beach. His eyes are vacant, and his mouth is loose. The steps of his unlaced boots in the sand are slow, as if they are being taken under duress, or as if he is being led.

Guided away from the jagged skyline of St. Andrews town, he moves west towards the Eden Estuary and the Tentsumir forest beyond, until the distant streetlights become nothing more than specks winking at his back. As if beckoned, he then moves to the base of the dunes, where the shadows are long, and the sands cold." (p. 1)

It consists of short sentences and basic vocabulary, yes, but the amount of information (the man is orienting himself by the landmarks of the town, for instance, so it's clearly the focal point of his life, here) and, more importantly, mood, that comes through is tremendous.

Banquet for the Damned succeeds in almost every way that counts. The novel's atmosphere - a chilling, claustrophobic darkness that leaves you trying to stay awake with cup after cup of coffee in the hope that you won't find yourself, in the dead of night, on some forsaken forest pathway - is rammed home by precise prose and well drawn characters. If you're a reader of horror, Banquet for the Damned deserves a spot on your shelf - perhaps between Ghost Stories of an Antiquary and The Shining. Though, of course, that'd mess up the filing system something mighty...

I took a chance and bought this book based on teh cover and I have to say I've never been more pleased with a random book selection.

The writing sets the scenes perfectly, the characters are just deep enough to keep the story running without bogging it down, and it is genuinly chilling in places.

Well recommended.

When I began reading, I wasn't sure how I would like it because the story is written in the present tense. But I fell under the spell of the story itself, the characters, the setting, the plot, and especially the author's use of language. It's a wonderfully scary story that fairly drips with atmosphere and tension. Keeps you wondering how the story will be resolved right to the very end.

I started Banquet For The Damned, at the insistance of my son, though I was initially put off by the 'wordiness' of the book. Oftentimes, that can become tedious and eventually detract from the storyline. However, every single word became necessary toward the development of the characters and the unfolding story. The story is one of true horror, and the book becomes impossible to put down (my favorite kind)! Too, I was fascinated by the grammar of the novel. Being a very mundane American, I loved 'hearing' the British and Scottish vocabulary, none of which was detracting. If you have ever been interested in historical occult myths and practices, this will especially appeal to you. Otherwise, Banquet For The Damned is simply a very good read.......and I foresee a movie in the making!