Book Review: Dark Dance by Tanith Lee

Dark Dance (Bloof Opera I), by Tanith Lee, 1992, Macdonald & Co
Cover Art: uncredited 

Tanith Lee has come up in a number of my Goodreads reading suggestions and on the back of these recommendations I decided to actually read something written by the author earlier this year. 

I came across several of her titles, including Silver Metal Lover and Electric Forest, which all sounded appealing, but decided to make a start with Dark Dance, which is the first book in Lee's Blood Opera series. 

As some of Lee's titles command quite a highish price tag on the second-hand book market, my decision to settle for Dark Dance was partially influenced by the availability of the hardback first edition for a reasonable price and, I have to admit, I liked the book's cover. (Sadly, the cover artist is not credited.)

Plot Summary -  Dark Dance by Tanith Lee

Jumping straight into a summary of this book without giving too much away: 

The story follows our heroine Rachaela Day from the point when she is plucked from her solitary and mundane life as a bookshop assistant in London to live with her father's family, the Scarabae, on the family's country estate, up to the point when her then 11-year-old daughter Ruth arrives to join the Scarabae family a decade later.

Having been brought up as an only child by her estranged and now deceased single-mother, Rachaela is at first reluctant to join her relatives. (She has thus far never met her father.) Yet, as circumstances appear to conspire against her, she eventually embarks on the journey to meet and live with this rather weird bunch of characters.

The Scarabae family is made up of a multitude of extremely long-lived oddballs, who idle away their days galloping through the house on toy horses or defiling books in the library before gathering at regular intervals for seagull stews and roast rabbit dinners. (The interaction between Rachaela and the Scarabae takes place almost exclusively during dinner time.)

Following a rather disconcerting nightly encounter with the most reclusive member of the family, Adamus Scarabae, Rachaela's father, the family's dark secrets (a tradition of intergenerational, incestuous relationships mixed-in with a moderate amount of vampire-like behaviours) are gradually unveiled to Rachaela and the reader. 

Overwhelmed by the enormity of it all in combination with an unwillingness to yield to Scarabae family tradition and play her part in this 'familial arrangement', Rachaela makes a first attempt at returning into her old life, but due to abysmal public transport links (Tanith Lee delivers a humorous, yet totally factual, and thus damning indictment of the British public transport infrastructure in these passages) Rachaela is soon retrieved by her very own father, for whom she is, much to her own dismay and bewilderment, now harbouring sexual attraction. 

Following their passionate encounter in the aftermath of Rachaela's 'repatriation' to the Scarabae family home, Adamus, however, reverts to his reclusive lifestyle within the tower. Ignored and neglected by her absent lover and bored-out by the remainder of the geriatric family members, Rachaela decides to embark on a second escape from the family, which ends in her return to London.

Here she intends to take-up her old lifestyle, but finds herself pregnant with Adamus's child. For the ensuing eleven years, we witness how Rachaela fits her life around her unwanted daughter, Ruth, until the family finally start stalking Ruth, who readily abandons her mother to take-up residence with the Scarabae. 

In the aftermath of her daughter's departure from London, Rachaela follows Ruth to the estate. Motivated for the most part by jealousy of Ruth, who is now at the centre of the Scarabae's and, above all, Adamus's attention, and by a sense of maternal duty rather than genuine concern for her daughter's emotional wellbeing, Rachaela attempts to extract Ruth from the family's clutches, but has to resign herself to the role of a bystander, witnessing both Ruth's betrothal to Adamus and her eventual revolt against the family's rulebook. 

Verdict

Dark Dance was quite something else and I am at a loss how to best assign this book to a genre, though I would agree that, purely for the sake of assigning a genre label to the story, I think Urban Dark Fantasy probably sums it up nicely. Perhaps even Urban Dark Erotic Vampire Fantasy? How does that sound?

Yes, there are vampires or vampiric elements, but this aspect of the story is not really touched upon in great detail and the reader is largely left in the dark about the specific nature of the Scarabae-type vampire. Some reviewers highlighted the erotic elements within the story. Yet, despite the explicit nature of a handful of passages, I wouldn't describe Dark Dance as Erotica or Erotic Fantasy either. The book is not exactly littered with descriptions of erotic scenes. 

Yes, Dark Dance contains explicit references and descriptions of intergenerational incest. Some readers clearly are put off by this. Deal with it, or don't. It's the premise of the book. I repeat: Dark Dance is about incest as a longstanding tradition practised within the Scarabae family. The plot revolves around it, the family's peculiar characteristics and, above all, their longevity are derived (somehow) through the practice of incest. If you are put-off by references to and the description of incest, don't read Dark Dance. Your choice. 

Yes, the storyelling remains at times rather vague, both in respect of the characterisation of  the main protagonists, their motivations and their backstories. However, through this omission of backstory and lack of explanation Dark Dance derives its appeal (at least for me), i.e. through the elements of the plot, which are not touched upon. The unexplained adds to the appeal of the book.

As a deliberate stylistic choice, this ommission adds a layer of mystery and kept me guessing and pondering about the protagonists' choices and motivations long after finishing the book. Why, for example, is Adamus opting for a reclusive lifestyle away from the family, whilst at the same time complying with its traditions? What is the reason behind the persecution of the family, their residence in exile and how did they come to be what they are today in the first place? I am very much hoping that some of these aspects will be addressed in Personal Darkness, the second instalment of the Blood Opera series, which I shall definitely be getting hold of.

Lastly, I have to mention that I enjoyed Lee's style of writing immensely. It's evocative, atmospheric, sparse at times and not overly descriptive. She has an incredibly subtle sense of humour, which brilliantly came to life in her depiction of Rachaela's transport nightmare following her first escape from the estate, and she is extremely apt at conveying deadpan humour through dialogue. I will certainly be reading more by Tanith Lee.

Book Review - The Killing Doll by Ruth Rendell

The Killing Doll, first released in 1984, showcases Rendell's tremendous talent as a writer of psychological suspense, and being the first Rendell I ever picked up, it introduced me to her work some twenty years ago. It also turned me into what I would describe as a constant reader. Though years may pass without reading one of her novels, there is usually an unread Rendell on my shelves. As soon as I have completed it, another appears to fill the void. 

At the age of 85 Ruth Rendell very sadly passed away in May 2015. Yet, thanks to her prolific output spanning over fifty years and comprising of over sixty titles, I will not be running out of reading material for a while. Though I am not overly keen on her Inspector Wexford series, I am particularly fond of her stand-alone, psychological suspense novels and the books she chose to publish under her pseudonym Barbara Vine. 

Ruth Rendell (17 February 1930 – 2 May 2015)

Too eager to explore her plots and to meet more of her ill-fated characters, I have thus far never ventured into re-reading my Rendell / Vine books. As The Killing Doll was my first ever Rendell, which I read back then in its German translation Der Pakt (The Pact), I thought it was time to make an exception and get hold of the original, English version for a re-read. I was not to be disappointed.

Ruth Rendell - The Killing Doll, 1984, Book Club Associates Edition 

Judging by other readers' reviews, The Killing Dolll seems to divide opinions, both between seasoned fans and those new to Rendell's work. Whichever side of the fence you are on, the book appears to provoke strong emotions in both camps. Whilst some praise it for its tight plotting and unexpected twist at the end, others seem to criticise it for its alleged lack of pace, the absence of likeable characters and its subject matter; i.e. the protagonists' dabbling in the occult. 

The plot by and large centres around the Yearman family, comprising of siblings Dolly and Pup as well as their widowed father Harold. Coinciding with Mrs Yearman's demise, Pup begins to dabble in magic rituals, selling his soul to devil in exchange for worldly goods and, above all, physical growth. He enlists the help of his sister Dolly, an apt seamstress, who - owing to a facial disfigurement - has  very few social contacts and leads an isolated life mostly confined to and maintaining the family's home. 

Dolly sews Pup's ceremonial robe and is from time to time allowed to attend the so-called 'temple', which Pup has created in an unused room in the house, whilst their father - oblivious to the ceremonial magic practised under his roof - is completely absorbed by his obsession with historical fiction and, eventually, his new wife, Myra.

Following Mrs Yearman's death, Dolly's interest in occult matters is amplified when she attends a number of seances and gets further fuelled by her desire to employ magic in order to banish Myra from the family home. Yet, after discovering his business acumen and penchant for casual sex with a string of affairs, both Pub's emotional connection to his sister and involvement with the occult are waning, and he is increasingly viewing his preoccupation with magic as a childish pastime obsession. Though still fond of his sister, both his sexual proclivities and newly found role as a businessman leave little time to devote to his sister's emotional well-being.

Despite this, Pup continues to perform rituals to please his sister, thereby continuing to fuel her belief in his abilities. When in the aftermath of one such ceremony involving the ritual stabbing of Myra's effigy in the form of a cloth doll, Myra is discovered dead in the Yearman's bathroom, Dolly's belief in the efficacy of her brother's geomancy is reaffirmed, triggering a fateful spiral of events and further accelerating Dolly's descent into madness. 

To me, The Killing Doll delivers perhaps one of the best contemporary depictions of a protagonist's gradual descent into substance abuse and schizophrenia as well as the concomitant circumstances of isolation and dysfunctional family relations, which in the end enable the condition to take hold and completely engulf the individual.

I therefore firmly belong into the camp of those, who did not merely enjoy the novel but would also recommend it to all those wishing to explore Rendell's body of work further. After all, to maintain the reader's interest, characters do not have to be likeable. Quite the contrary. Childish preoccupations such as dabbling in occult writings and rituals as well as unexpected chance encounters (similar to the one at the end of the book) can have fateful consequences and are therefore utterly believable. As for the alleged lack of pace, I would argue that Rendell does not deviate from her usual norm and succinct style, telling a story spanning a timeframe of over five years in the space of less than 240 pages suggests that the book is not cluttered with unnecessary detail.

Book Review: Dark Harvest by Norman Partridge

It's 1963, it's Halloween and in a secluded backwater somewhere in the US teenage boys are being starved by their parents and locked away in their bedrooms, whilst waiting for the town's yearly hunting ritual to begin.

Somewhere in a cornfield outside town the October Boy, a pumpkin vine dressed as a scarecrow featuring a carved head and candy stuffing, awakes and returns to be hunted down by the community's teenage boys. Any number of perks and a chance for a fresh start await the winners of the race and their families. It's therefore no surprise that all the 'lucky' winners of previous hunts have escaped this small-town setting, never to be seen again by those they left behind.

Dark Harvest by Norman Patridge, TOR 2007, Cover Illustration by Jon Foster

Book Review: American Coven by Amy Cross

My first venture into the literary world of Amy Cross. It was a bizarre ride. 

Cross appears to be an author with a prolific digital output and a minimal, almost non-existent personal presence on the web. A large number of her many titles are currently available as free downloads on Amazon. That's exactly where I came across American Coven, which was suggested to me as a recommendation - most likely as a result of having purchased quite a few dark horror novels with supernatural elements in my time. American Coven fits that description rather well. 

American Coven - Amy Cross

Happy 50th, Baby Satan! - Rosemary's Baby turns 50 in 2018: Summary and Review of Ira Levin's 1968 Novel

First published in 1968, Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby will celebrate its fiftieth birthday in 2018. A good reason to start celebrating and tick this book off the 'to-read' queue.  

I expect that most readers of the genre are either familiar with Polanski's film adaptation, have read Levin's novel or, indeed, both. Not much needs to be said about the plot. A quick summary can be found below.

Bloomsbury 2002 Paperback edition of Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby, featuring the artwork created for the release of Roman Polanski's film adaptation of the same name.

Quick Plot Summary

Rosemary Woodhouse becomes the victim of a satanic conspiracy, perpetrated against her by both her neighbours and her husband, Guy. The book starts off with Guy and Rosemary house hunting for a rental property in the Bramford, a sought-after apartment complex in a well-to-do New York City neighbourhood. Having secured a flat in Rosemary's dream apartment, she and Guy, an up and coming television actor, make friends with their neighbours in the building, Minnie and Roman Castevet. Guy becomes ever more attached to the elderly couple, his acting career is taking off and Rosemary falls pregnant with their first baby. All in all, joyful times. 

But all is not as it seems and cracks are apparent from the start. Rosemary feels controlled by the Castevets, her marriage to Guy becomes strained for similar reasons, she finds herself subjected to patronising behaviour and has to endure an extremely painful pregnancy. She eventually starts to take control and connects the dots thanks to a mysterious book on witchcraft and satanism bequeathed to Rosemary by her recently deceased friend and surrogate father, Hutch. Yet, the Bramford conspirators remain ahead of the game, usurping and preempting all her efforts to escape the situation.

As Roemary’s friends and family are either cut off or killed off by the Bramford coven, she is completely isolated by the time she eventually goes into labour. Despite her newborn initially being removed from her, Rosemary goes on a hunt for her son and locates him in the midst of a gathering of satanists in the Castevet’s flat. Finally allowed to face her devilish offspring for the first time, Rosemary succumbs to her maternal instincts, accepting her role as mother of Baby Satan, who comes suitably equipped with tail, horns and claws.

Rosemary's Baby: Book vs Film 

Polanski, who wrote the screenplay for the film adaptation of Rosemary's Baby, is often credited with having created one of the most faithful adaptations in cinematic history. This is understandable, given that Levin's book reads like a screenplay. According to Polanski, it took merely one month to adapt Levin's novel.

When reading the descriptions of the apartment and its decor, I was immediately reminded of Polanski's film, of which I can only remember fragments. Not recollecting the film's entire plot I remained interested in Levin's novel throughout. Reading the book ended up fulfilling a purely utilitarian purpose for me in the end: Filling in the gaps I couldn’t remember from the film. I consequently visualised both Mia Farrow and John Cassavetes at all times, especially when the characters engaged in dialogue. I would say that both Levin's novel and Polanski's adaptation have to be viewed as distinctive, yet inseparable. When reviewing one, it's impossible to ignore the other.

Review: Dark Satanic by Marion Zimmer Bradley

Originally published in 1972 Dark Satanic is the first book in Marion Zimmer Bradley's Occult Tales series and the prequel to The Inheritor. Throughout her life Bradley was an incredibly prolific writer and is, of course, better known for both the Darkover and Avalon series. Given the sheer quantity of Bradley's written output, it should come as no surprise that some of her books lack in the quality department.

Anyone familiar with her wider work will be aware, Bradley published a great number of books and short stories that can best be described as 'fragments' or literary experiments, in which she was trialling new plot lines, developing characters and experimenting with new themes. Rather than retaining these fragments in a drawer, Bradley was happy to see them published - in later years most often inside one of her short story collections and anthologies. Yet, at times her ventures into new territory were published as stand-alone books or republished and marketed as sequels and / or prequels to other novels.  Dark Satanic belongs into the latter category.

Dark Satanic, Marion Zimmer Bradley 

The story unfolds in Manhatten where James Melford, a publisher, and his wife Barbara share an apartment with James's ageing mother (Mother Melford) and her friend, Dana, who temporarily stays with the Melfords while house hunting. 

Shortly before his untimely death, one of James's authors, Jock Cannon, visits James in his office at Blackcock Publishing in order to deter James from publishing Jock's recently completed expose on New York City's satanic subculture. As a result of researching  satanist circles, Jock is now subjected to intimidation and harassment by as yet unidentified forces, wishing to prevent the information in his book from becoming public. 

When Jock suddenly dies of a heart attack, James, still determined to publish his book, decides to investigate further. He remains unconvinced by Jock's warnings until James himself starts receiving threatening calls and unexpected late-night deliveries. 

Meanwhile, Barbara, who not only has a rather strained relationship with her mother-in-law but is also deeply uncomfortable with Dana's presence in the apartment, experiences strange goings-on, too. At first, she doubts her own sanity, but as the story unfolds, she becomes increasingly suspicious of Mother Melford, her confidante and their behaviour towards her. 

Admittedly, in Dark Satanic Bradley is not giving us her best. Quite the opposite. The spelling mistakes in my copy alone indicate the absence of any serious editing and suggest a turbo turnaround from initial manuscript to publication. The characters remain flat and abstract and the story seems to plot along, giving the impression that Bradley, whilst writing, forgot where she wanted to take the story. 

Following the introduction of Claire Moffat's and Colin MacLaren's characters, which assume the roles of dei ex machinae, Bradley moves on to plant the seed of the sequel, thereby not so subtly preparing her readers for further literary ventures into the worlds of good and evil, the forces of black and white magic, religious ceremonies and satanic rites. This is somewhat reminiscient of The Fall of Atlantis, 

The Fall of Atlantis, Marion Zimmer Bradley, photo courtesy of Clarice Asquith

Atmospherically and thematically, the setting and subject matter of Dark Satanic evoke associations with Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby, which was published in 1967. Rosemary's Baby became the best-selling horror novel of the 1960s and thanks to Polanski's adaptation of the book, which was released in 1968, it remained a trendsetter in the genre for years to come.

As a literary product, Dark Satanic can best be described as a gothic pulp, tapping superficially into Levin's market by ripping various elements off Rosemary's Baby. Considering the poor quality editing, I would not be surprised to find out that Bradley was under a very tight deadline when writing Dark Satanic and she made use of this to explore a rough idea for a new series. In later editions the book is marketed as the prequel to The Inheritor, which was published in 1984 and received overwhelmingly positive reviews. The success of The Inheritor undoubtedly boosted sales of Dark Satanic, resulting in its republication in 1988. 

All in all, Dark Satanic certainly deserves a place in any MZB fan collection, especially to satisfy the needs of the completist collector. All others are best advised to skip the book and read The Inheritor instead. 

Summary and Review: Mind to Mind by Betty Shine

Mind to Mind is the first of several Betty Shine publications to be reviewed on this blog over the coming months. Originally released in 1989, with Mind to Mind, Betty aims to provide a broad overview of her work as a spiritual healer, medium and clairvoyant.

Mind to Mind by Betty Shine