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Dead Reckonings No. 24 (Fall 2018)
ISBN/GTIN

Dead Reckonings No. 24 (Fall 2018)

PaperbackPaperback
EUR10,00

Product description

TABLE OF CONTENTS A Feast in Small Bites ........... Géza A. G. ReillyRobert Aickman, Compulsory Games Alive with Darkness ........... S. T. JoshiRamsey Campbell, By the Light of My Skull and The Way of the Worm God Is a Disease: The Mystic Exile of Andrzej Zulawski's Possession ........... Nathan Chazan Full House ........... Hank WagnerDarrell Schweitzer, The Dragon House Ringing in Apocalypse ........... Christopher RopesDavid Peak, Corpsepaint Reflections on ICFA ........... J. T. Glover Ramsey's Rant: A Modicum of Blood ........... Ramsey Campbell What Is Anything When Considered Twice?Existential Remembrance ........... Donald Sidney-FryerAll He Cared to Tell ........... Géza A. G. ReillyS. T. Joshi, What is Anything?: Memoirs of a Life in Lovecraft The Case for Weird Tales Replicas ........... Ryne Davis Transformative Visions ........... Acep HalePriya Sharma, All the Fabulous Beasts A Visionary Work Renew'd ........... Sam Gafford and The joey ZoneWilliam Hope Hodgson, The House on the Borderland, illustrated by John Coulthart Adam Nevill: The Sense of Dread ........... S. T. Joshi Horrifying Abnormality of the Mundane ........... Fiona Maeve GeistTim Waggoner, Dark and Distant Voices: A Story Collection Stephen King: Fast Food or Five Star? ........... James Arthur Anderson Signs of a Young Horror Master ........... Leigh BlackmoreJosh Malerman, Goblin: A Novel in Six Novellas When Unreality Becomes Too Unreal ........... Darrell SchweitzerJosh Malerman, Unbury Carol The Beauty and Horror of Home ........... Javier MartinezAndrew Michael Hurley, Devil's Day Realities Other Than the Ordinary ........... Peter Cannon Henry Wessells, A Conversation larger than the Universe:Readings in Science Fiction and the Fantastic 1762-2017 About the Contributors
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Details

ISBN/GTIN978-1-61498-234-0
Product TypePaperback
BindingPaperback
Publishing date31/12/2018
LanguageEnglish
SizeWidth 127 mm, Height 203 mm, Thickness 6 mm
Weight118 g
Article no.11379937
CatalogsLibri
Data source no.A36108822
Product groupBU562
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Jane Austen is a writer ruined by TV adaptation (before you all start writing letters, I know there are good ones). Despite two centuries of inclusion in the canon, there are still many (and I am afraid they are mostly men) who dismiss her as 'frivolous', 'saccharine' or 'unserious'. This means it is only worth continuing to discuss Austen with people if they either don't use any of the aforementioned adjectives or if, by the latter, they mean, she is one of the funniest writers in English (full stop). If you don't know this already, the first page of 'Persuasion' will convince you, and then her biting, satirical commentary on Georgian society will show you that far from reverently writing about it out of admiration, she irreverently lambasts it and its eccentric snobbish hierarchy (people who write her off will probably say John Oliver likes Trump because both wear suits). If you don't believe me (and even if you do), read her (and start with 'Persuasion') before you watch her.
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Author

"I'm Ramsey Campbell. I write horror."
That's how I introduce myself at readings and on panels, and in conversation too if the opportunity arises. I quite enjoy being told that people don't like horror, which they don't read (a situation that prompts me to ponder how they can know). Sometimes they even tell me that they don't like the sort of thing I write, although they haven't read it. On occasion they approach me to let me know as much. Admittedly the sort of fun this affords is limited, and I think there's a better reason for me to keep up the image. I believe I'm in a minority of writers who say that they write horror.

Some of those who made their name with it seem eager to show they've moved on. Some might even like to convince us that they never entered the field, and seek to erase all traces of their presence as they flee the scene of the crime. I won't be doing either. Perhaps I was lucky to encounter the classics of the genre first - anything that found its way between hard covers and into the public library - but I've never faltered in my conviction that horror is a branch of literature, however much of it lets that tradition down. I started writing horror in an attempt to pay back some of the pleasure the field has given me, and I haven't by any means finishedI don't expect to choose to, ever.

Lovecraft declared that the weird tale - by which he meant much of what I mean by horror fiction - could only ever be a portrayal of a certain type of human mood. Certainly one of the pleasures of some of the greatest work in the field is the aesthetic experience of terror (which involves appreciating the structure of the piece and, in prose fiction, of the selection of language). I don't see this as limited. There's surely no more reason to criticise a piece for conveying only this experience than there is to object to a comedy for being nothing except funny (as might be said of Laurel and Hardy, surely the greatest exponents on film) or a tragedy for making its audience weep. Indeed, I wish more of the field still assailed me with dread: these days little besides the darker films of David Lynch achieve it. However, the field is capable of much more, and frequently succeeds - as satire or as comedy (however black), as social comment, as psychological enquiry, and perhaps best of all when it aspires to the awesome, the sense of something larger than can be directly shown. One reason I stay in the field is that I haven't found its boundaries.

Some years ago at a literary conference I attended a panel on which the speakers seemed to be hailing the death of genre (by cross-fertilisation, I believe). There's certainly nothing wrong with expanding genres by enriching them from without; indeed, writers who read purely within their own fields tend to end up buried in them (although bringing lived experience to bear on them is at least as important as reading more widely). All the same, I had the impression that the panel felt that the destruction of genre was a good thing, and I failed to grasp how. I almost spoke up to ask whether, since I didn't feel constrained by my field, I was somehow inadequate. It would have been a silly question, since I know my answer.
(continued at www.RamseyCampbell.com)