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Book List: The Horror of Gentrification

When the topic of redevelopment comes up, affected residents need a seat at the table. If developers and city government aren’t interested in the needs and wants of the existing community, any “revitalizing” is for people who aren’t already there.  Gentrification has had the effect of displacing people and institutions that have been in the same neighborhood for decades and replacing their homes with higher-end residences they can’t afford, expensive office space, or shopping and restaurants, with far-reaching consequences. It affects Black, brown, and indigenous people the most, but, even when it’s well-intended, it’s ALWAYS about making money.

 

cover art for When No One Is Watching by Alyssa Cole

When No One Is Watching by Alyssa Cole Bookshop.org )

 

After leaving her abusive husband, Sydney returns home to her mother’s Brooklyn brownstone, in an area which is rapidly gentrifying before her eyes, with her neighbors disappearing mysteriously at a rapid rate as well-to-do white couples move in. As Sydney investigates the history of Brooklyn, she realizes there is a cycle that connects to disturbing events of the present.  When No One Was Watching gets into eugenics and medical experimentation and is grounded in some real historical events.

 

The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin

The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin Bookshop.org )

 

In Jemisin’s book, the follow-up to her story “The City Born Great”, every major city has a human avatar. New York City, however, is so large that each borough needs one. Enter the Better Way Foundation, a front for a potential eldritch invasion of Lovecraftian proportions, though The Better Way Foundation, represented by  Dr. White (I know…) This book has great LGBTQ+ representation, as well as indigenous, Black, brown, and Indian-American characters. Read our review here.

 

cover art for Black Water Sister by Zen Cho

Black Water Sister by Zen Cho  Bookshop.org | Amazon.com )

 

Gentrification is not limited to New York City. Black Water Sister takes place in Malaysia. Malaysian-American Jess was anxious about coming out of the closet. That’s small potatoes now that she is being haunted by her estranged, recently deceased grandmother, Ah Ma, who was a spirit medium for the goddess Black Water Sister and needs Jess to stop a developer from tearing down the vengeful goddess’ temple for a condo development.  I asked my daughter how she would feel about being possessed by a bossy grandmother obsessed with zoning (her grandmother is, in fact, obsessed with zoning), and the expression on her face was one of horror. And that’s not even the scariest part. Vengeance is bloody business. For my part, I thought Ah Ma’s interactions with Jess were really entertaining. You wouldn’t want to get on that lady’s bad side. Side note: a lot of the dialogue is written in Manglish, but I found it easy to follow and understand.

 

Cover art for My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones Bookshop.org )

 

Gentrification occurs in rural and suburban communities as well as cities. In this love letter to the slasher movie, Jade Daniels, a troubled high-school of Blackfoot descent, uses her knowledge of horror movies and their tropes to navigate the town’s soon-to-be slasher story as wealthy gentrifiers begin building an exclusive enclave in her working class community.  As you would expect from a slasher-inspired story, this has plenty of blood and gore.

 

Gentrification’s effects aren’t limited to the living, either. How many haunted house stories depend on one building or neighborhood being built over the homes and lives of others? Here’s a link to a ghostly meditation on the effects of live people on ghosts who were simply haunting their own village.

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Book Review: Women Make Horror: Filmmaking, Feminism, Genre edited by Alison Peirse

cover art for Women Make Horror edited by Alison Peirse

Women Make Horror: Filmmaking, Feminism, Genre edited by Alison Peirse

Rutgers University Press, 2020

ISBN-13: 9781978805118

Available: Paperback, Kindle edition Bookshop.org | Amazon.com )

 

Women working in the horror industry today are severely underrepresented. Although they have been making horror for centuries, many women have been cut out of that history and/or had their authorship and creative influence denied. What is more, women also enjoy consuming horror. Women Make Horror explores women’s creation and enjoyment of the genre through analysis of experimental cinema and filmmaking. The book includes seventeen essays, global in scope, discussing creatives, films, and festivals. While I think every one of these chapters deserve attention, I will highlight some that stand out.

“Women Make (Write, Produce, Direct, Shoot, Edit, and Analyze) Horror” by Alison Peirse provides a solid introduction to the text. Peirse discusses how she garnered and selected the texts for this volume. She asked three questions of the writers: why do women make horror; what kinds of stories do women tell in horror; and what makes a horror film a feminist film (p. 8-9). Every contributor has a unique perspective as to how they answered these questions.

“The Secret Beyond the Door” by Martha Shearer discusses Daria Nicolodi’s authorship and, subsequently, creative content of the original Suspiria. In “Why Office Killer Matters”, Dahlia Schweitzer provides valuable information on this film and argues that it is a film that not only restructures the representation of gender representation, but how horror films are expected to conform to specific tropes (p. 89). Donna McRae, in her chapter titled “The Stranger with My Face International Film Festival and the Australian Female Gothic”, discusses the development of this essential film festival, as well as “considers the influence of a female-centric genre filmmaking in Australia today” (p. 146) and how it has been a force for good in creative circles. Erin Harrington’s “Slicing Up the Boys’ Club” provides an excellent analysis of the existing state of anthology and omnibus films and their lack of diversity, as well as a discussion regarding the women-led anthology, XX. Harrington poses some good questions regarding representation for readers as well. “The Transnational Gaze in A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night” by Lindsey Decker presents an analysis through the lens of Hamid Naficy’s Islamicate gaze theory rather than the typical male gaze theory used so often in feminist film analysis.

In “Gender, Genre, and Authorship in Ginger Snaps“, Katarzyna Paskiewicz analyzes the film Ginger Snaps, which makes connections between a werewolf legend and a girl’s coming-of-age story. Paskiewicz describes her study as having two purposes. She seeks to answer how the film might be productively read through a lens that recognizes filmmaking as a collective art form” (p. 106), as well as wanting to “register the significance of women’s film authorship within the horror genre histories in which they have been traditionally overlooked” (p. 106). Early in the chapter, the author argues that directors are not the only creative voice in a film project. Editors, screenwriters, set designers, and more have influence over various aspects of a film (this is precisely why my colleague and I created Women in Film: A Film Index, to recognize other creatives in horror. That the sentiment is recognized in this seminal text is encouraging).

Other chapters cover directors such as Gigi Saul Guerrero, Lucile Hadžihalilović, and Alice Lowe. There are also chapters that focus on the New French Extremity, Korean horror cinema, fans as filmmakers, international films and events, and much more. The end of each chapter includes notes, and there is an extensive index at the end of the book.

Women Make Horror is a much-needed collection of feminist horror film criticism. Some of these essays, such as Molly Kim’s delve into Korean women-made cinema, are the first of their kind. and others showcase someone’s overlooked or misappropriated contributions, such as Alicia Gomez’s chapter on Stephanie Rothman’s The Velvet Vampire, a film originally credited to Roger Corman. Women Make Horror would be an excellent resource for horror scholars or even an addition to a film studies course on the genre. The general reader could enjoy it, but there are many chapters that read more like an academic work.  Highly recommended.

 

Reviewed by Lizzy Walker

 

Editor’s note: Women Make Horror: Filmmaking, Feminism, Genre is a nominee on the final ballot for this year’s Bram Stoker Award. 

Book Review: End of the Road by Brian Keene

cover art for End of the Road by Brian Keene

End of the Road by Brian Keene

Cemetery Dance, 2020

ISBN-13 : 978-1587677939

Available: Paperback, Kindle edition Amazon.comBookshop.org )

 

End of the Road is a memoir consisting mainly of weekly columns horror writer Brian Keene wrote for the Cemetery Dance website to finance his 2016 signing tour, the “Farewell (But Not Really) Tour”,  which lasted from May to December of 2016. It also contains some additional material, including an introduction by Gabino Iglesias and a piece written by Tom Piccirilli, as well as epilogues going through about April 2017.  In addition to chronicling his journeys to bookstores and conventions across the country, Keene shares his experiences with grieving the recent deaths of three close friends including writers Tom Piccirilli and J.F. Gonzalez and his reflections on mortality. He attended the last World Horror Convention during the tour and recalls fond memories of past conventions and friendships, and, as a member of the planning committee for the charity weekend Scares that Care, gives that some space as well.  He writes about meeting up with friends and fans he’s made in the horror genre, the value of independent bookstores and local conventions, and the loss of individuality he sees in towns as he drives across America. His focus is definitely not on the controversies going on in the horror writing community at that time: he is looking back, not forward.

Keene also muses over his generation of horror writers (he had been a published writer and outspoken advocate for the genre for about 20 years at that time), touching on the changes in publishing and selling since he started as both a reader and a writer. From about 2000 on, I watched many of the changes from the sidelines, seeing the conversations on Shocklines on ebook vs. print, the effect of the failure of Dorchester Publications, the changes from almost entirely small-press limited editions to easier availability to a much wider variety due to ebooks.  He describes his own vision of the six “waves” of horror writers, putting himself in the fifth wave, and ready to let go for the and let the most current wave to take over the direction of the horror genre. His prediction is that independent niche bookstores and Amazon will take over and drive chain stores out of business. As a former public librarian, I think it’s telling that none of his signings were in libraries, who often feature local writers and midlisters: maybe neither of his publishers thought he would find buyers there, or lists his titles with wholesalers, but Pressure, the book he was promoting, is the only one of his books available in my public library (on a personal note, my husband, the founder of Monster Librarian, who died at the age of 40 in 2014, loved and reviewed many of Keene’s previous books, and recommended them for library collections).

Keene is at his best in this book when he writes about the people and places he cares about. His description of his grandmother, and of West Virginia, is nuanced and vivid, and his frustration over the lack of recognition for Hunter S. Thompson comes through pretty solidly. His self-proclaimed middle-of-the-road politics make the book pretty much an artifact of the times, but he really puts himself out there in speaking about his grief, his love for family and friends, and his feelings about the horror genre.

I’m not sure why it took so long for the book to come out, given that (according to Keene’s epilogue) the epilogue ends in February 2017 and the foreword was written in April 2017. While it is an interesting read ( and will be reflective of many interested readers’ experiences), it is not likely to be of wide interest outside the horror community. That said, current members of the horror community may enjoy his reminisces and appreciate his musings on the state of the horror genre circa 2016. Keene still has a blog, a newsletter, a Patreon, and does podcasts, so readers who are interested in what’s going on with him currently have many opportunities to do so. End of the Road is really a snapshot of his state of mind at that particular time, and a way to support a writer readers and friends want to support.

 

Reviewed by Kirsten Kowalewski

 

Editor’s note: End of the Road is a nominee on the final ballot for this year’s Bram Stoker Award in the category of Superior Achievement in Nonfiction.