Home » Posts tagged "body horror" (Page 20)

Anthony Bourdain’s Hungry Ghosts by Anthony Bourdain and Joel Rose, illustrated by Alberto Ponticelli, Vanesa Del Rey, Leonardo Manco, Mateus Santolouco, Sebastian Cabrol, Paul Pope, Irene Koh, and Francesco Francavilla


Anthony Bourdain’s Hungry Ghosts by Anthony Bourdain and Joel Rose; illustrated by Alberto Ponticelli, Vanesa Del Rey, Leonardo Manco, Mateus Santoloucuo, Sebastian Cabrol, Paul Pope, Irene Koh, and Francesco Francavilla

Dark Horse Comics, 2018

ISBN-13: 9781506706696

Available: Hardcover, Kindle, comiXology

Hungry Ghosts, by the late Anthony Bourdain with Joel Rose, brings us the stories of a group of international chefs who are challenged to play 100 Candles by a Russian crime lord. The game is based on the Japanese Edo period game of Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai where samurai were challenged to tell ghost stories, each more terrifying than the last. After each tale, the storyteller then blew out a candle, making the atmosphere darker with each story. They also had to gaze into a mirror to ensure their fellow storytellers did not become possessed by the entities they could summon while telling their stories. The chefs participating in this game each tell a different cautionary tale all with the same theme: food.

I loved all of the stories in this graphic novel, but a few stood out over the others. In “The Starving Skeleton,” a cautionary tale about ignoring those in need, a homeless man enters a small restaurant in search of a meal. The chef turns him away, refusing to serve him, but soon discovers what happens when the spirits of those who starved to death are refused alms. In “The Pirates”, a voluptuous red-haired woman is rescued from drowning at sea by a ship of lusty pirates. What ensues is a feast of a different kind.

An apprentice chef who finds himself alone after his master dies unexpectedly is taken in by a group of chefs who each have a sad story to tell in “The Heads”. The masterless apprentice decides to stay with them, but discovers a disturbing scene in the middle of the night when he sees the bodies of his new friends in the kitchen missing their heads. It’s a far more disturbing sight when he sees what has happened to their heads.

A father and son are trapped in a blizzard in “The Snow Woman”. They find shelter, but in the middle of the night the son wakes up to find a mysterious woman over his father. She spares the son’s life, but tells him he must never tell anyone of what happened that night. Later, he finds the woman of his dreams. They wed, and have children. His fortune changes when he tells his wife the story of what happened that night in the snowstorm. The artwork for this story is particularly beautiful.

Included in the book are an afterword by Joel Rose, recipes, descriptions and artwork of the ghosts, demons, and entities in the stories, a cover gallery, and author biographies.

Rose and Bourdain, as well as the illustrators, did not pull any punches with content in some of these stories. They deal with disturbing content and imagery. If you are not a fan of body horror, gore, and/or disturbing themes, you should probably avoid this book. However, if you appreciate these horror elements like I do, consider picking up this title. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some new recipes to try. Highly recommended.

Contains: body horror, disturbing imagery, nudity, sexual assault

 

Reviewed by Lizzy Walker

 

Book Review: The Rust Maidens by Gwendolyn Kiste

The Rust Maidens by Gwendolyn Kiste

Journalstone. 2018

ISBN-13: 978-1947654440

Available: Paperback, Kindle edition

 

If there’s someone out there who is unfamiliar with Gwendolyn Kiste’s gorgeous prose of the macabre, The Rust Maidens would be a great place to start. After last year’s stellar collection, And Her Smile Will Untether The Universe, Kiste steps out with her debut novel, which rattles the soul in a disturbing, yet beautiful read.

Set in Cleveland in 1980,  this tale unwinds in a muted, depressive state that feels utterly claustrophobic, brought to life by Kiste’s exquisite, yet unobtrusive, prose. A group of girls in the neighborhood has contracted an illness that defies logic and science. What begins as something relatively innocuous, dripping water from their bodies, becomes much more dangerous and frightening: skin breaking open, revealing glass-like shards and rusted metal where bones should be. The horror is quiet here, like the best of Shirley Jackson and Charles Grant, as Kiste dissects the rotting body of the area which mirrors the internal strife of the people who live within the crumbling town.

The dual narrative of our protagonist, Phoebe, past and present, is a haunting one, as she returns home to revisit the bones of what she escaped long ago. The mystery of what happened to her best friend and cousin Jacqueline looms large over both timelines. The true antagonists of this novel are vague, and should be: the women who strive to hold power of the lives on Denton Street, the government agents who appear to investigate, the Rust Maidens themselves, the self-destruction of the town.

To give away more would strip away the power of this beautifully written novel by one of the best new writers out there today, a tale both unsettling and gut-wrenching. Kiste wraps her story in a veneer that feels like a mix of rust with the dust that has settled over the dying town, and the emotional heft between the covers weighs down on the reader like the crush of a rust-riddled steel beam, suffocating in mood but resulting in a story that begs to be read and savored. Kiste is a star, and The Rust Maidens is a slam dunk as a finalist for this year’s Stoker Award.

Highly recommended for lovers of any any genre.

 

Reviewed by David Simms

 

Book Review: Sleeping with the Lights On: The Unsettling Story of Horror by Darryl Jones

Sleeping with the Lights On: The Unsettling Story of Horror by Darryl Jones

Oxford University Press, 2018

ISBN-13: 978-0198826484

Available: Hardcover, Kindle edition

 

In Sleeping with the Lights On, Darryl Jones addresses the origins and evolution of horror, and provides a brief but wide-ranging, descriptive overview of the relationship of violence, taboo, and fear to culture, society, and storytelling that will provide newcomers with a readable and easy-to-understand guide to the horror genre’s major terms, critiques, subgenres, and tropes addressed in both lay and academic literature. Those more familiar with the horror genre, may be acquainted with many of the ideas and criticisms, but Jones organizes the information effectively. In his introduction, he starts by tracking the origins of horror through early literature, religion, and myth, following through to the present day and making predictions about the future of horror. He provides clear explanations of terror, horror, the Gothic, the uncanny, and the weird, citing major, primary sources for their origins and definitions, and argues that changing cultural anxieties inform the development of the horror genre. Further chapters discuss major branches of the horror genre: monsters, the occult and supernatural, horror and the body (this includes transformation and cannibalism as well as body horror), horror and the mind (focused on madness, doppelgangers, serial killers, and slashers), and mad science.

In each of these chapters, Jones explores the breadth of the topic by first addressing the general concept (monstrosity, in the chapter on monsters) and then getting more specific and discussing critiques and analyses of how their representations and meanings  have changed with the times, through a more specific examination (in this case, of the representation of cannibals, vampires, and zombies in society, culture, history, and literature). Although he is able to address these only briefly, it is clear that his knowledge is deep as well as wide.

An afterword discusses post-millenial horror and Jones’ predictions for the future of horror. Noting that one of horror’s defining characteristics is its existence on the margins and manipulation of boundaries, he observes that its recently gained respectability in academic circles and the way it is now marketed to mainstream popular culture may be compromising its transgressiveness. Jones coins the term “unhorror” to describe movies that use horror tropes, sometimes exaggeratedly, and using computer-generated effects, without actually being horrific (he seems to be focused on recent kaiju movies, which do definitely differ in tone depending on who is making them. I don’t think anyone can say that Shin Godzilla is “unhorror” despite its CGI, though) and introduces “Happy Gothic”,  which uses a Gothic mode but in a romantic, whimsical way.

Jones also notes that recent storytelling in the genre is rooted in cultural anxieties about economic, ecological, racial, technological, and political horrors, all of which are very real parts of people’s lives right now, as well as a return to “old-school horror”, but that Asian and Hispanic horror are also having a major impact on the genre, as well as television, podcasts, and Internet memes such as Slender Man. Jones concludes that horror is expanding past the page and movie screen directly in front of our faces, to include new voices and new fears in ways that, at this time, we can’t even imagine.

As this is a short book, it really isn’t possible to cover everything, and I feel like Jones maybe stretched himself a little too far in trying to include as much as he did, especially in his afterword. He devotes just a few sentences to YA horror and paranormal romance(entire books have been written about this), and a few to the “Happy Gothic”, without really elaborating or providing examples (I have never heard of this and now I am curious). His attempt to describe “unhorror” was fragmented as well. He just didn’t have the space for everything I think he would have liked to have said, so the end felt a little unfinished.  I was also a little frustrated with the index. While it lists authors and titles of books and movies cited, movies were not always identified by the date (there are a number of movies titled Godzilla, for example) and terms defined in the text were not always included (abjection, taboo, and sublime, for instance). This is less of a big deal if you have a paper copy that you can just flip through, but doing that on the Kindle is more difficult. The “further reading” section was also difficult for me to read, and I would have liked a little space between citations. These are minor quibbles, though.

This is a great book for anyone looking for background on the genre or arguments for its validity, or who is just interested in the topic, and especially for newcomers seeking a good overview of the horror genre in literature and cinema. Highly recommended.