Killer Clowns, Reading IT and Thoughts on Horror

So where has the past month gone?

I’ve been spending some time revising my Greek mythology eBook In the Beginning was Chaos, mostly expanding the text, doing some additional research, and also adding pictures in the form of copyright-free artwork illustrating the myths. I hope to have the book out in its perfected form within the next couple of weeks.

As far as reading goes, I was oddly inspired by skimming increasingly absurd media reports of the Killer Clown Craze to have a go at tackling Stephen King’s IT.

I remembered watching the TV serial when it was broaclown_feardcast in the ’90s and finding it entertaining, but not especially frightening. Since then, I’ve read other Stephen King novels, including the more recent (2011) 11/22/63 with its  gripping time-travel theme and his much earlier novel The Shining (1977) which I found darkly atmospheric and absorbing and remember later finding the film a little thin and disappointing in comparison.

I approached IT then with a reasonably positive expectation. As before, I was impressed by King’s ability to draw you into the story and make you care about the characters with some vivid brush-strokes. Each of the young protagonists had clearly delineated problems or issues which to some extent defined them. The prose was readable, fast paced and clever, shifting you in and out of past and present and immersing you in the small-town world of the book.

However, for the present at least, I have ended up putting the book aside at a little short of 200 pages of its 500+. Why? Ultimately, the horror itself didn’t convince me. The manifestations of the dark terror haunting the town of Derry were simply too over-the-top, in some cases to the point of absurdity. I found myself watching the mayhem unfold with a kind of distanced scepticism, rather than any remote feeling of disquiet. It was the fact that these things happened so comparatively early in the book that threw me, too, I think. If such horrific manifestations had been the climax after being built up to throughout the book, they might have felt in some sense earned; as it was, it just felt deeply unlikely.

Part of King’s talent, I think, is showing that the real horror, the real monsters are to be found in human guise. That I think is what made The Shining work so well. There were strong elements of that insight in IT, but they were overshadowed by the solid unsubtlety of a monstrous being that simply rips children apart or, indeed, causes them to float.

Horror is a very subjective genre, of course. What will elicit a shrug or a laugh from one person can be the cause of a disturbed night’s sleep to another. I find the idea of a sad shadowy ghost manifesting silently upon one in one’s solitude much more worrying than a big scary monster.

What gives you a genuine chill in a horror story?

 

Claire Tomalin’s Biography of Charles Dickens

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11202585-charles-dickens

charles_dickens_-_project_gutenberg_etext_13103I’ve been getting into Dickens the last couple of weeks, reading and rereading. I enjoyed A Tale of Two Cities very much and am now some way through Our Mutual Friend, Dickens’ last completed novel. The murky ancient river with its deathly secrets and the brittle manners and concerns of the arriviste bourgoisie are both compelling.

This enjoyment prompted me to want to read more about Dickens himself, so I gave Claire Tomalin’s biography  a try as it seemed to be the best recommended. I certainly found it very vivid and readable,  as it leads you quickly through the events of Dickens life  giving vivid glimpses of his personality along the way.

In Tomalin’s portrayal, Dickens came across ultimately as a very ambivalent figure.

On the one hand, he was capable of wonderful kindness and generosity to those stricken by misfortune, a man of radical politics though scathing of politicians generally and genuinely indignant and concerned on behalf of the marginalised of society. I was interested to learn of Dickens’ radicalism. For some reason I had always imagined him as some kind of One-Nation Tory. I suspect that this is because he has become a figure that seems to embody an idea of ‘Victorianism’ in itself in the public consciousness, even because of his scathing portrayal of much of what was wrong with it.

On the other hand, there was a sense that he could be cold, autocratic and rejecting to those closest to him. Nn particular,  there was the vile way Dickens treated his wife, not only rejecting her for his actress mistress but  justifying himself  by  attacking her publicly,questioning her love for her children and even her grip on sanity.

There is also the curiously cold way he related to most of his children. It is hard for most British people in the 21st century to imagine what it would be like to have ten children, even though we are only two or three generations from it being the norm. Interestingly, it seems the situation was hard for Charles Dickens to get his head round too. He favoured his first three children, but apparently treated the later additions to his family with a kind of distanced bafflement as though he simply couldn’t extend his love and attention far enough for them all to have their share. It is disquieting to learn that the author of  A Christmas Carol frequently left his own sons at boarding school over Christmas.

Tomalin’s biography brings across these ambivalencies very well. She also vividly conveys the sheer physical energy of the man, who combined a prodigious literary output with the need to undertake walks of many miles on a more or less daily basis. I found the clearly extrovert portrayal of Dickens who seemed to love to surround himself with people and to feed off the energy of an audience devouring his readings to be interesting. Writers are not always introverts, it seems.

What I would have liked to see more of in this biography is a slowing down of the narrative in places and time given to a discussion of questions such as Dickens’ own literary influences and inspirations “where did he get his ideas from…”.  He was a genius, but he wasn’t created out of thin air. What did he read? How much did he gain from his interrupted education? How did he come by his views on religion and politics? (He wasn’t conventionally religious either.)

I also felt there was a lack of insight into some of the people who surrounded him most closely. Catherine Dickens seems to be dismissed by the biographer as a nonentity about whom there is nothing much to be said rather as Dickens himself did. His children also remain shadowy figures though we hear something of how they lived out their lives after Dickens’ death – rather forlornly for the most part. We also got intriguing glimpses of his friendships with writers such as Carlyle and Thackeray and I would have liked to know more about those, about how the greatest writers of the age influenced and reacted to each other.  Of course, a biography cannot contain everything and this was an excellent introduction to the larger-than-life personage who bestrode his era like a Colossus.