8 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Chaos and Crustaceans, What Lurks Beneath The Skin, November 10, 2002
This review is from: Beneath the Moors and Darker Places (Hardcover)
Beneath the Moors and Other Places exhibits the plethora of talents that Brain Lumley, the personification of what a short story writer should be, brings with him, showcasing exactly why he is considered by some, myself included, as one of the best storytellers readers can have the been fortune of running across. Besides the fact that he can take anything that crosses his path, from the ordinary things strewn about your house, those microscopic worms that you studied in science classes, or that pesky outerworldly terror that your next-door neighbor seems to drag out on rain days, and make it frightful, he also has an inner eye for detail, one that allows him to convey surroundings with remarkable detail. This is easily seen any time he divests the surroundings of his newest horror, taking some blank canvas and giving contours and colorations most authors forget and making you, the immersed reader, actually feel its chest heaving life. Besides that, the detail within the inner workings of both the background and the characters themselves, the believability with which they are portrayed, is remarkable, making even the shortest of tales teem with a cast that you can actually feel suffering.
Within this collection itself are some highly notable pieces, including the much acclaimed Lovecraftian pieces Dagon's Bell, The Fairground Horror, the Rising of Surtsey, plus the short Novel, Beneath the Moors, and the ones I favor, David's Worm and The Sun, The Sea, and The Silent Scream. This mingle together in a lovely fashion, taking different aspects of horrors that are both physical and psychologial and placing them in a stew that o so well.
Shortly breaking down some of the inclusions and listing the rest at the end, they are:
David's Worm, a story about the lowly planarian worm that David, a scientist's son, sees upon a slide, notices is alive, and lovingly liberates by letting it go into a pond behind his home. Here it feeds and grows, taking on the abilities and mentalities of many of the things it consumes before finally wobbling onto land and confronting David and his family as well. I personally found this story entertaining because it shows why some things make good additions to a slideshow and shouldn't be freed and why I would only play fetch with a cute little blob like Planny if I had a kid to bait it with, plus the ending is wonderfully cruel device that sent a tiny shiver down my entertained spine. As a reader, I truly appreciate that.
Dagon's Bell, is a tale about the wonders of home acquisition and what sometimes lurks beneath our wonderful abodes. Here, a home once possessed by a man thought to be a bit crazed becomes vacant when he, disappearing altogether, can no longer display the wonders of shotgun love to an adoring public and a newly married couple decides that this place, an extensive fixer-upper, would be a dream come true. Little do they know that somewhere beneath the grounds the sounds of a bell, Dagon's Bell, can be heard when the tide is right, and it brings with it things that really don't make good dinner guests. This story has a lovely rendition of manifestation inside it that I enjoyed, plus a bit of background that is pretty tasty, not to mention that the story itself, teeming with a bit of madness that Lovecraft would enjoy, comes across really well.
The Sun, The Sea, and The Silent Scream, is a lovely recount depicting the joys of vacationing in places where the water isn't intestable and where tiny parasites, enjoyable crablike entities that like to get on and in their hosts, infest everything. Besides simply entertaining the reader, it actually works as a textbook of sorts, teaching you the merits of staying at places not considered "out of the way" and also showing you why your food preparers, a sometimes overlooked by the less picky of sorts, should be mistrusted without exception.
The Fairground Horror, deals with the great tentacled one's priests and the mark they bare. It begins by focusing on Hodgson's Funfair and a man named Anderson Tharpe who has recently added a new freak-house frontage called "Tomb Of The Great Old Ones." Within it are the normal oddities that freakshows like to use, the cons that have been sold throughout the ages, but there are also some other things, pieces taken from his younger brother, Hamiliton. Without delving too much into it, this is basically a lesson in why you should try to play with things belonging to the sleeping old one, and why you should never trust anyone wearing a hairpiece.
Also included in this book are The Second Wish, A Thing About Cars, Rising of Surtsey, Big 'C' and Beneath the Moors, all good pieces that deserve attention and will no doubt appeal to the outermost terror because of my careless neglect.
To say that the stories manifesting here are worth reading is, quite simply, an understatement of the foulest sort. With the mistreatment of a child's kindness, the rising of undersea horrors, fairs that have no need of falsified unicorns to have truly unique sideshows, and vile creatures that burrow under one's skin, this collection warms the heart in a way that only the most special of collections can. Personally, it makes me feel like singing Christmas carols.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
