This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on September 6, 2023.

Conan the Barbarian #2

By Jim Zub (Writer) and Roberto De La Torre (Artist) – Titan Comics – August 30, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

The second issue of Titan Comics’ Conan the Barbarian begins in the ashes of Aquilonian frontier outpost Hauler’s Roam. Conan and the Pictish scout Brissa watch from hiding as the undead “Tribe of the Lost” wordlessly gather together the bodies of their savaged victims. Loading the corpses into a net they drag behind them, the rotting horde heads north, crossing the border into Conan’s homeland of Cimmeria. Sole survivors of the supernatural raid, Conan and Brissa follow in pursuit, hoping both to warn Cimmerian warriors of the encroaching threat and learn the location of the larger army of zombies. Along the way Conan and Brissa learn more about one another, with initial mistrust eventually giving way to camaraderie.

The artwork for this issue is the best seen thus far. For Conan the Barbarian #1 I commented that the reader’s viewpoint often felt a bit too distant from the action, obscuring facial expressions and other fine details. Issue #2 displays a marked improvement on that front. Not only are we given a clearer look at character’s faces, they are good faces as well. As to be expected given the situation, Conan mostly wears an expression of grim determination throughout the issue, but Roberto De La Torre avoids stone-faced monotony through subtle attention to Conan’s eyes. Now that we’re able to get a better look at her face, we can see that Brissa is rendered in a style that would not be out of place alongside Belit, Valeria, Red Sonja, and other warrior women and love interests from the 1970s issues of Marvel’s Conan the Barbarian, rather than a more modern standard for comic book heroines. This consistency with the classic artwork is appreciated. While the characters and fight scenes take center stage, De La Torre’s art also does a quietly effective job showcasing the rugged wilderness of Cimmeria.

There’s more narration than dialogue in Conan the Barbarian #2, but Jim Zub continues to take a light hand with the text. He mostly lets the artwork speak for itself, using brief and evocative language as needed to communicate the less visual aspects of the story. Most of this issue is taken up by overland travel, but there are some nice character moments as Brissa and Conan—thrown together by circumstance—gradually feel each other out. The Tribe of the Lost and the unseen power commanding it remain mysterious, but some intriguing hints are revealed.

There has been a small amount of grumbling from canon purists about the coziness of comic book Conan’s relationship with the Pict Brissa. In “The Black Stranger,” one of the original short stories by Robert E. Howard, Conan takes considerable umbrage at another character’s suggestion that he has been living among the Picts: “Even a Zingaran ought to know there’s never been peace between Picts and Cimmerians, and never will be.” The comic book Conan is much younger than the one depicted in “The Black Stranger,” and I’m curious to see if this long-standing feud between Cimmerians and Picts will be reflected in the plot developments of subsequent issues of Conan the Barbarian.

Conan scholar Jeffrey Shanks’ brief article for this issue takes no position on “Pictgate”; instead he draws a connection between Zub’s comic character Brissa and the lineage of Howard’s Pictish characters Brule the Spear-slayer and Bran Mak Morn. The issue concludes with a letters column, in which Zub reiterates a statement he has made in interviews, that his intent for Titan Comics’ Conan the Barbarian is to focus on creating new tales, rather than retell classic adventures. A laudable goal, in this reader’s opinion.

Enthusiasm remains high regarding Conan’s comic revival, with Conan the Barbarian #1 reportedly outselling all Titan Comics releases to date. A third printing of the first issue is in the works, and Titan reports that this second issue is already back at the printers for a second run. Conan the Barbarian #2 maintains the high standard of quality seen in #1 and the Free Comic Book Day issue #0 and is an easy recommendation for fans of dark fantasy comics.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on August 31, 2023.

Lord of a Shattered Land

By Howard Andrew Jones – Baen Books – August 1, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

Lord of a Shattered Land opens immediately after the decisive conclusion of a brutal, genocidal war. After two previous conflicts were fought to stalemate, the expansionist Dervan Empire has finally succeeded in crushing Volanus. Not just content to dominate the rival city-state militarily, the Dervans exterminated nearly all the populace, razed Volanus’ iconic silver towers, and salted its fields. The handful of survivors were shipped back to the Empire in chains. Leading troops in the field, Hanuvar—Volanus’ greatest general—was absent for the obliteration of his homeland. Having witnessed him plummet into the ocean from a great height, the Dervan legions rejoiced at the death of their hated foe. But reports of Hanuvar’s demise have proved premature. After washing up on an island, Hanuvar immediately pits his formidable military mind against the Dervans anew. He vows not to rest until every Volani survivor has been freed from slavery.

First volume in a planned five-book saga entitled The Chronicles of Hanuvar, Lord of a Shattered Land has an unusual structure. Rather than a conventional novel, it’s a cycle of 14 linked short stories. Each chapter is a self-contained story but taken together they tell a greater narrative. Unlike the fix-up novels of classic science fiction and fantasy, where disparate short stories are tied together post facto, the individual component stories that make up The Chronicles of Hanuvar were intended from conception to contribute to a planned, overarching plot. This structure feels a bit like a market-driven compromise between the typical short story format of Sword & Sorcery fiction (Jones is a vocal proponent of Sword & Sorcery and also serves as editor of the subgenre’s premiere magazine, Tales From The Magician’s Skull) and major publishers’ preference for multi-volume epic fare, but in the end it works surprisingly well. Each chapter satisfies as a bite-sized piece of entertainment while still providing a sense of overall progression and forward momentum.

While many of the stories collected in Lord of a Shattered Land involve Hanuvar traveling to a new locale, encountering Volani survivors, and attempting to free them from the yoke of Dervan slavery, there is significant variation in tone throughout the book. Straightforward man vs. monster Sword & Sorcery tales are included alongside heist and espionage stories. There’s even a fairytale: “Shroud of Feathers.” While Hanuvar himself displays too much integrity to be considered a grimdark hero, his mission and the setting are decidedly grim, with the oppressive cruelty of the Dervan Empire on constant display. Depictions of violence are generally brief—Hanuvar tends to eliminate threats with cold efficiency—but graphic, and chapters like “The Eyes of the Reaper,” “The Missing Man,” and “The Light of the Lovely Ones” emphasize horrific elements, venturing deep into dark territory.

Given the nature of the book, whether Lord of a Shattered Land will be successful for a given reader or not depends greatly on how they react to Hanuvar as a character. Jones makes no secret that his hero is inspired by the great general Hannibal of Carthage, known for his strategic genius in the Punic Wars against Rome. While historically the destruction of Carthage took place decades after Hannibal’s death, Jones has Hanuvar survive the razing of his Carthage analogue, rising again as a sort of avenging angel for his people. Fiftyish and hindered by chronic war injuries, Hanuvar relies on clever tactics, decades of hard-earned experience, and steely determination. Despite all the historical flavoring, however, Hanuvar’s preternatural competence and tendency to be several steps ahead of the opposition reminded me of cinematic spy heroes like James Bond, or Ethan Hunt from the MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE series. Some of the quieter moments in the book reveal that Hanuvar carries a great deal of survivor’s guilt for not being present at the destruction of Volanus, but he never allows himself to wallow in self-pity or indulge himself in “extracurricular” revenge. The mission to free his enslaved countrymen is always first and foremost in his mind, and deep within enemy territory he frequently finds himself left with no choice but to work alongside citizens of the very Empire that destroyed his homeland.

While readers who prefer significantly flawed or morally ambiguous protagonists may be left cold by Hanuvar’s righteous certitude, Lord of a Shattered Land is ideal for fans of intensely driven, hyper-competent heroes. The episodic nature of the storytelling makes it an ideal book for brief reading sessions, and the individual chapters span a wide range of story types. The pseudo-Mediterranean setting and Roman trappings are also a nice change of pace from Northern European-inspired fantasy.

Readers who enjoy Lord of a Shattered Land will not have long to wait for a sequel. The City of Marble and Blood is set to arrive this October, with two further volumes in The Chronicles of Hanuvar scheduled for release in 2024.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on August 12, 2023.

Conan the Barbarian #1

By Jim Zub (Writer) and Roberto De La Torre (Artist) – Titan Comics – August 2, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

This first installment of Titan Comics’ Conan the Barbarian is set eight years after the debut Free Comic Book Day issue. Still just 24 years old, Conan is already a veteran of numerous battles and brushes with supernatural horrors. Since putting his homeland of Cimmeria behind him, he’s ranged from Asgard to Nemedia, Corinthia to Zamora. As a teenager he left the burned-out outpost of Venarium curious about the outside world, only to discover dishonorable men at every turn. Tired and embittered, he has come full circle, to the northern Aquilonian frontier town of Hauler’s Roam, not far from both Venarium and Cimmeria. After a violent altercation with the incompetent and cowardly leader of his most recent employer, a mercenary band, Conan pauses to consider his next move. His respite is short-lived, however, as an enigmatic Pictish horsewoman gallops into town warning of the Army of the Lost: a horde of undead raiders. As the sky is plunged into an eerie darkness, Conan must once more take up his sword against a preternatural threat.

In this first full-length issue, Robert De La Torre’s artwork continues to display a strong (and pleasing!) John Buscema influence without slavishly aping the fan-favorite Marvel artist. The artwork is dynamic and gory, with a surprising number of decapitations for a single issue. There’s also a single panel with bare breasts on display, perhaps signaling that this series will hew closer to the more adult-oriented Savage Sword of Conan magazine of the 1970s than the all-ages Marvel Conan the Barbarian comic that ran in parallel. My only complaint with the artwork thus far is that sometimes the “camera” feels a little too distant from the action, making faces indistinct.

Jim Zub’s writing is punchy but restrained. Quite frequently comic authors seeking to emulate Conan creator Robert E. Howard’s “blood and thunder” prose end up cramming too much text into the panels, paradoxically slowing the reader down with wordy, breathless narration. Zub wisely lets the artwork do the heavy lifting, highlighting and emphasizing the action with his text rather than unnecessarily repeating it.

As with the Free Comic Book Day issue, Conan the Barbarian #1 closes with another brief article by Conan scholar Jeffrey Shanks, this time entitled “Robert E. Howard and His Ages Undreamed Of.” As the Pictish people feature heavily in this issue, Shanks discusses how Picts, Atlanteans, Lemurians, and other antediluvian races reappear across Howard’s non-Conan work, resulting in a sort of greater shared universe. Shanks’ essays provide useful context for the original stories that inspired the comic and are kept brief enough that they’re unlikely to intimidate newcomers. Intriguingly, both this and the previous essay seem to hint that Titan Comics and Howard Estate rights-holders Heroic Signatures are planning to gradually expand their collaboration to non-Conan characters. Perhaps King Kull of Atlantis and the vengeful Puritan Solomon Kane are due for a comeback.

Titan’s Conan the Barbarian #1 starts off with a bang, very clearly setting expectations for the series to come. We’re introduced to Conan, given a quick demonstration of the rough honor code this barbarian lives by, and then see him pitted against a rapidly escalating otherworldly menace. The stage has been set for a compelling original Conan adventure and I look forward to seeing the creative team ramp up the excitement in subsequent issues.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on July 21, 2023.

Conan the Barbarian – Free Comic Book Day 2023

By Jim Zub (Writer) and Roberto De La Torre (Artist) – Titan Comics – May 6, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

The 2023 Free Comic Book Day issue of Conan the Barbarian is set deep within the grim, hilled land of Cimmeria, Conan’s homeland. After crushing three Cimmerian villages in the process, the expansionist Aquilonian empire has established the frontier outpost of Venarium. The Cimmerian barbarian tribes’ internecine feuds have left their lands ripe for colonization, or so the arrogant Aquilonians believed. Now the barbarians—temporarily united by their hatred for the foreign interlopers—scale Venarium’s palisades. Among their number is Conan, just fifteen years of age and already more impressively built than most fully grown men. It is at Venarium where Conan first bloodies his blade. Picking through the outpost’s loot he also, unexpectedly, finds himself afflicted with an intense curiosity about the outside world.

This Free Comic Book Day issue marks the first installment of Conan the Barbarian from UK publisher Titan Comics. It may sound strange to say this about a comic starring a bloody-handed barbarian, but it feels like this introduction to the new Conan the Barbarian series is about reassuring fans. While Conan is one of the most venerable fantasy characters in comics, his publication history has been rocky in recent years. The fledgling Titan Comics line appears to be an attempt to provide some welcome stability.

Excitement surrounded the return of the Conan the Barbarian comic book to Marvel in 2019. Conan’s 15 year stretch at Dark Horse was largely successful, but to long-time comic fans the original Marvel run beginning in 1970 is still the first incarnation of the character to come to mind. The one penned by Roy Thomas and illustrated by Barry Windsor-Smith and later John Buscema, with all of them operating at the height of their formidable powers. To many, the relaunch of the Conan the Barbarian and companion Savage Sword of Conan series felt like a homecoming.

It didn’t take long for cracks to appear, however. The flagship Conan the Barbarian series was well-received, but Marvel’s editorial decision-makers also wasted no time incorporating the venerable character into the greater Marvel universe. The Avengers: No Road Home (2019) story line saw him join forces with Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch. Conan also took on a primary role in the subsequent Savage Avengers series, alongside Wolverine, The Punisher, Venom, etc. While crossovers such as these were not unknown during the classic Marvel era, they were largely confined to the non-canon What If…? title. Many readers—not limited to purist fans of Robert E. Howard’s original literary Conan, but also including fans from the crossover-light Dark Horse Comics era—opposed this sort of crossing of the streams.

Far more damaging, however, were the production and publication days that accompanied the pandemic. After the conclusion of Jason Aaron’s “The Life and Death of Conan” arc, writing duties on the core Conan the Barbarian title passed to fantasy comic veteran Jim Zub. Just two issues into Zub’s “Into the Crucible” story line, production was halted, with supply chain issues cited as the cause. There was a seven-month gap between issues, stunting the momentum the plot had accumulated. The mainline Conan the Barbarian series lasted ten more issues, and a six-issue King Conan miniseries followed, but by mid-2022 Marvel announced they had declined to renew the Conan character license.

With the Marvel experience still fresh in public memory, Titan Comic’s Free Comic Book Day issue of Conan the Barbarian seems like an attempt to satisfy and reassure three segments of the audience: neophytes, existing Conan comic fans, and fans of the original pulp fiction character.

Newcomers to the character are given an easily digestible origin story; they’re introduced to Conan during his very first battle and learn the motivation for his wandering life of adventure. There’s no exposition info-dump or dense setting lore, we meet the hero when he’s just starting out, see him in an action-packed situation, and receive some tantalizing hints about future adventures.

Readers already familiar with earlier comic book incarnations are given an immediately familiar-looking depiction of the character: Roberto De La Torre’s lines are strongly reminiscent of John Buscema’s classic Marvel portrayal of Conan. Jim Zub has been given another chance to write the character, and even the colorist and letterer (Jose Villarrubia and Richard Starkings, respectively) are veterans of the Dark Horse Conan series. When Conan’s future love interest Belit is glimpsed in a brief foreshadowing sequence, she appears in her classic Marvel furs. When Conan leaves Venarium behind in search of adventure, he even picks up and dons a horned helmet vaguely similar to the one given him by original Marvel artist Barry Windsor-Smith. The message seems to be that this is the comics Conan you know and love, delivered by people you can trust.

Finally, while they might not be the largest audience or the most impactful on comics sales, fans of Conan creator Robert E. Howard’s original pulp stories are also given some attention. The sack of Venarium depicted in this issue is adapted from a few lines in “Beyond the Black River,” a short story that appeared in a 1935 issue of Weird Tales magazine. When the reader is given a glimpse of Conan’s future exploits, situations from Conan’s other pulp appearances (“The God in the Bowl,” “The Tower of the Elephant,” “Rogues in the House,” “The Queen of the Black Coast”) are shown. The issue even concludes with a brief essay by Howard scholar Jeffrey Shanks that highlights the character’s long literary history and explores why Conan’s stories still resonate today.

While the Free Comic Book Day issue of Conan the Barbarian is only a brief taste, this fan has been duly reassured. De La Torre’s artwork is gorgeous and dynamic, and it hearkens back to some of the most beloved depictions of the character. Jim Zub has been vocal about his enthusiasm for Conan for many years, and there’s no other active comic writer I trust more to do the barbarian justice. Conan the Barbarian Issue #1 can’t come soon enough.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on July 4, 2023.

Boys in the Valley

By Philip Fracassi – Tor Nightfire – July 11, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

Boys in the Valley immerses the reader in the harsh, prison-like environs of St. Vincent’s Orphanage, deep in the hills of rural Pennsylvania, 1905. Here Peter Barlow and 31 other boys spend monotonous days working the fields and participating in church services under the watchful gaze of a handful of Catholic priests. Any perceived infraction or impiety is met with withheld meals, corporal punishment, or a trip to the dreaded “hole”: a subterranean cell dug into the grounds outside the dormitory. The boys’ already grueling situation goes from bad to worse with the midnight arrival of the local sheriff and his deputies with a grievously wounded suspect in tow. The injured man is combative and raving, with the sheriff evasive about the circumstances of his arrest. Former military medic Father Poole attempts to provide treatment, but what begins as first aid soon devolves into a harrowing exorcism that the wounded man does not survive. After the man’s death and interment in the orphanage grounds Peter notices an unsettling change come over a number of his fellows, beginning with one just returning from an overnight stay in the hole. Formerly cheerful boys have become inexplicably malicious and conspiratorial. They huddle together, darkly plotting and recruiting others, while the priests refuse to acknowledge that anything unusual is occurring. Violence seems imminent, and as the oldest boy with a strong sense of responsibility it’s up to Peter to protect his comrades. Assuming, that is, he can distinguish friend from demonic foe.

Like Fracassi’s previous novel, Gothic, Boys in the Valley involves devil-worship and demonic possession. The publisher’s pithy tagline describes Boys in the Valley as “The Exorcist meets Lord of the Flies, by way of Midnight Mass.” Similarities to The Exorcist are obvious, and both the absence of effective adult supervision and the pervasive child-on-child brutality certainly bring to mind Lord of the Flies. But despite being—at its heart—a religious horror novel, I would also recommend it to fans of John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982). Isolated and snow-bound, the orphanage may as well be as remote as an Antarctic research station, and its immediately clear that no outside help is forthcoming. Unlike many horror stories, where a singular devil flits from one host to the next in serial fashion, possession is treated here almost like an infection. Some demonic hosts are more insidiously subtle than others, engendering a heavy atmosphere of paranoia as alliances shift and former friends become lethal enemies.

Despite the claustrophobic setting of Boys in the Valley, Fracassi effectively manages a large cast of characters. The various boys are all named and given evocative quirks. The lion’s share of characterization is given to the oldest two boys, the noble aspiring priest Peter and his cynical counterpart David, but through brief passages and conversations Fracassi manages to communicate each boy’s essential nature with surprising economy of words. With the end goal, of course, of making the reader really feel the blow whenever a particular boy meets a savage end at the hands of his fellows.

The pacing is another highlight of Boys in the Valley. Many authors would be tempted to prolong the first third of the novel, after the first boys start to change. Those authors would drip-feed the reader a series of unsettling events over several more chapters before the first murder takes place. Fracassi’s demons are impatient and ready to get to the carnage, however, with the whole sequence of events escalating very quickly. I appreciated the apparent confidence Fracassi had in the strength of his basic premise and his scene-setting ability. Rather than dragging things out unnecessarily, all hell breaks loose within the orphanage soon after Peter uncovers the demonic threat.

Previously published in 2001 as a 500 copy limited edition by Earthling Publications, Boys in the Valley is now being released by Tor Nightfire. Hopefully this mass market edition from a major publisher will introduce Fracassi to a wider audience of readers. After reading both Gothic and Boys in the Valley I am firmly convinced that Philip Fracassi is a name worthy of being included alongside other contemporary horror greats like Paul Tremblay, Nick Cutter, and Stephen Graham Jones. Boys in the Valley is a tense page-turner, absolutely gripping.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on June 21, 2023.

The Vessel

By Adam Nevill – Ritual Limited – October 31, 2022

Review by Robin Marx

The Vessel opens with protagonist Jess McMachen in a desperate situation. Having separated from her violent husband, she supports herself on meager wages earned weekly as a caregiver for the elderly. Her primary school-aged daughter Izzy is mercilessly bullied by her classmates, but Jess’ irregular work schedule prevents her from being as available for her daughter as she would like. Her ex-husband is also constantly lurking around the periphery, paying surprise visits to their daughter that violate the terms of their divorce agreement. A new job opportunity offers a chance to escape this tenuous situation, however. If Jess can stick with it, avoiding a repeat of the vaguely hinted-at disaster that spoiled her previous posting, she could earn enough to move into a new house in the countryside, far from her ex-husband, where her daughter can play outside and get a fresh start at a new school.

Upon accepting the new job, however, the situation quickly goes from bad to worse. Her client, Flo Gardner, is in the late stages of dementia. She lives in Nerthus House, a once beautiful mansion that (mirroring its owner) has deteriorated over the decades, dimmed by unreplaced burnt-out light bulbs and crammed with a lifetime of clutter. Jess soon discovers that—during those fleeting moments when Flo isn’t completely catatonic—she’s verbally abusive without provocation and unpredictably violent. Flo also proves surprisingly mobile for a supposedly frail wheelchair user, appearing in unexpected places in the dead of night. Jess keeps discovering strange shrines in neglected corners of the house. Birds act strangely in the surrounding woods, and ominous shapes move in the overgrown garden at night. There is a sense that both Nerthus House and its resident are awaiting something. The eerie events Jess experiences escalate even further when, after her babysitting arrangements fall through, she finds herself with no choice but to bring her daughter into Nerthus House and into contact with Flo.

Much like Nevill’s The Ritual and No One Gets Out Alive, The Vessel deals with an isolated protagonist trapped in a simultaneously miserable and threatening predicament. “Why don’t they just leave?” is a question that horror writers and filmmakers frequently have to grapple with, and Nevill always has a ready and convincing response. He combines empathetic character portrayals with a singularly claustrophobic atmosphere, effectively immersing the reader in his beleaguered protagonists’ shoes.

Apart from its sudden and intense finale, The Vessel is more about inevitability than surprises. Rather than blindside the reader with twists and unexpected reveals, the events of the story seem to follow an inexorable, perhaps even preordained sequence. The reader is kept one step ahead of Jess throughout the story, enhancing the feel of dread.

Only slightly longer than a novella, The Vessel is a short novel intended by the author to be read in one or two sittings. While I appreciated that it wasted no time getting to the exciting supernatural bits, it also felt like the novel would have been perhaps even more effective with some more meat on its bones, so to speak. In the book’s enlightening back matter, Nevill reveals that the narrative’s leanness and almost stage-like presentation were an intentional experiment on his part. Ultimately, whether that experiment was successful will depend on the perspective of each individual reader, and I will refrain from spoiling Nevill’s stated goal for the book.

The Vessel is a taut little exercise in folk horror. Reader’s familiar with Nevill’s other work will find his strengths on display, and newcomers with a taste for folk horror in the tradition of Arthur Machen (slyly referenced in Nevill’s heroine’s surname: McMachen) and The Wicker Man are sure to enjoy this tale. The old gods of Britain may have faded from sight, but that doesn’t mean they have disappeared.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on June 9, 2023.

Maeve Fly

By CJ Leede – Tor Nightfire – June 6, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

With Maeve Fly, debut novelist CJ Leede wants to introduce readers to a new breed of serial killer.

Maeve Fly, the eponymous protagonist (not to be confused with “heroine”), is living her best life. She resides rent-free in a palatial mansion owned by her grandmother Tallulah, a former actress from the Golden Age of Hollywood. She has a job that she loves, working as a costumed princess at the Happiest Place on Earth. She has a best friend, Kate, who is literally the Anna to her Elsa. She amuses herself watching VHS pornography and inciting online hate mobs. Oh, and she indulges in a little murder sometimes, as a treat.

But, as she is intensely aware, cracks are beginning to appear in Maeve’s cushy lifestyle. The grandmother that Maeve idolizes has been comatose for some time, and is receiving in-home hospice care. Her aspiring actress friend, Kate, is one successful audition away from stardom and an inevitable separation from Maeve. And despite their popularity with amusement park visitors, both Maeve and Kate are being subjected to increasing scrutiny by their employer. If all that weren’t enough, an unpredictable new element has arrived on the scene: Kate’s handsome and cocksure brother. A professional hockey player, Gideon both attracts and repels Maeve in equal measure. At any moment her house of cards could collapse, leaving Maeve rootless and adrift. And when Maeve Fly feels threatened, people die.

Written in the first person predatory perspective and peppered with pop culture references, American Psycho is the most obvious point of comparison for Maeve Fly, but there’s a fair amount tonally of Fight Club in here, too. Both Bret Easton Ellis and Chuck Palahniuk are directly referenced within the narrative, name-dropped alongside a number of outre authors, perhaps a self-aware bit of judo intended to disarm critics. Maeve herself has read the books her story is likely to be compared to, and she even glances at a copy of American Psycho before embarking on her final killing spree. But there’s more of interest to be found within this slick serial killer story than a simple gender swap. While habitual murderers are commonly portrayed as aloof, Maeve is anything but detached. She needs the grounding and stability that her grandmother and best friend provide. While she constantly strives to hide her murderous compulsion, at the same time she has a powerful desire to be understood and accepted. Ironically, to be seen. The way that ambivalence is handled is what distinguishes Maeve Fly from other serial killer stories.

With its uncompromising tone and unsettling main character, Maeve Fly is destined to be a divisive book. The violence is graphic, and Leede does not shy away from depictions of sexual assault or animal abuse. Maeve is a forceful and liberated woman, but she’s simultaneously a black hole of need and dependence. She’s a fascinating character, but also an unrepentant monster. There’s no inciting incident from her past that turned Maeve into a killer, she’s a monster with no origin story. The people she kills and mutilates generally aren’t deserving of their fates. They don’t “have it coming.” There’s some sparse and under-cooked commentary about misogyny and gendered violence, but it’s undermined by the fact that Maeve acts more savagely towards women than any of the male characters in the book, and her brutality has a relentlessly sexual component. Maeve is not the subversive feminist icon some prospective readers may be looking for.

Maeve Fly is a pitch black character study. Leede promises a monstrous woman and she delivers with gusto. While full-on splatterpunk horror fans might be let down (Maeve tends to describe in detail the torments she’s about to unleash on her victims, with the actual execution taking place between chapters), the level of gore still feels a few notches above the mainstream horror novel average. With its strong characterization and compelling exploration of dark themes, Maeve Fly is an uncommonly aggressive and confident debut novel, and CJ Leede is an author to watch.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on May 26, 2023.

Die By the Sword

Edited by D.M. Ritzlin – DMR Books – April 28, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

DMR Books has quickly established itself as one of the premiere sources for new and reprinted fiction written in the pulp sword & sorcery and science fantasy traditions. They’ve released a number of anthologies in recent years, including the Swords of Steel series of dark fantasy stories written by heavy metal musicians and the horror-themed Samhain Sorceries. Rather than reprints or specially solicited authors, Die By the Sword is intended to be the first in a series of anthologies featuring all-new sword & sorcery tales gathered via open calls for submissions. This initial volume includes eleven stories by both previous DMR contributors (Howie K. Bentley, Matthew Knight, etc.) and newcomers. The gorgeous cover artwork is provided by underground comix and paperback veteran John Pound, who may be most well known among readers of a certain age for his work on Topps’ Garbage Pail Kids line of trading cards. Alas, the cover is a reissue of a painting from 1980 and no lion-headed warriors appear in this book.

Die By the Sword starts off strong with “Ardax in Antillia” by Dariel R.A. Quiogue. Hailing from the Philippines, the prolific Quiogue has been popping up frequently in fantasy and adventure-fiction venues, including the first installment of Rakehell magazine and issue zero of New Edge Sword and Sorcery Magazine. As with those outings, Quiogue blends historically-inspired settings with swordplay and monsters, creating stories that bring to mind the classic Ray Harryhausen fantasy adventure movies. “Ardax in Antillia” involves a pair of gladiators who, after their escape from a Roman arena in Iberia, encounter a beautiful maiden condemned to be sacrificed to the cruel Atlantean gods. The fast-paced tale that follows is packed with visceral combat and fun aquatic monsters.

“Rites of the Black Goddess” by Paul D. Batteiger is another outstanding story. Fresh from the Crusades and Jerusalem, war-weary lord Morcar returns home to find his domain usurped by an arrogant Norman count. Through the aid of steel and decidedly unchristian magic, Morcar immediately sets about regaining his birthright. While most of the stories in Die By the Sword pair gritty combat with a dark outlook, this violent and moody piece is especially likely to appeal to grimdark fans.

Sharing a setting with the author’s 2022 novel Frolic on the Amaranthyn, Chase A. Folmar’s “The Sorcerer’s Scion” is another tale that emphasizes shadowy atmospherics. The bulk of this short chronicles the final hours of sell-sword Kulvrak—found killed under mysterious circumstances at the story’s outset—hired to rescue the daughter of a deranged herbalist from a nightmarish garden in squalid Old Iskalruun. Folmar cites classic Weird Tales scribe Clark Ashton Smith as an influence, and this story similarly delivers both lush prose and tense strangeness.

Inevitably with anthologies, some stories are less successful than others. Neither Howie K. Bentley’s “Secrets Only Dragons Know” nor “The Key to the Blood Pyramid” by Matthew Knight quite worked for me. The former involves Eldol, a warrior Briton who joins forces with a tribal witch in a quest for revenge against treacherous Saxons. The witch is demonstrated to have an agenda of her own, but muddy storytelling and an overly cryptic ending ensured that the titular dragons kept their secrets to themselves. “The Key to the Blood Pyramid” holds together better as a narrative, but the over-the-top vampyre-slaying magical armor-clad dimension-crossing protagonist (previously seen in 2019’s Karnov: Phantom-Clad Rider of the Cosmic Ice, by Knight, Bentley, and Byron A. Roberts) reminded this reviewer of a well-meaning but over-exuberant guy at a game store telling everyone within earshot all about his “cool” high-level Dungeons & Dragons character.

Among many strong stories, the highlight of Die By the Sword for me was Gregory D. Mele’s “The Heart of Vengeance.” Like Mele’s previous contributions to Tales From the Magician’s Skull No. 6 and Whetstone: Amateur Magazine of Pulp Sword and Sorcery issue 5, “The Heart of Vengeance” takes place in the Aztec-inspired setting of Azatlan. After warrior lord Helomon Twelve-Vulture loses his kingdom to a treacherous cousin, he embarks on an epic quest of retribution. He gains the mystical assistance of the skull-faced priesthood of Xokolatl, Lord Death, but is left with a troubling prophecy: all other victories will be Helomon’s, but should he seek the life of his usurper cousin he will not live to see the completion of his revenge. This central tension—is revenge worth one’s own death?—plus the intriguing setting combine for a very compelling dark fantasy tale.

Also worthy of note is the final story in Die By the Sword, “The Sacrifice” by Elias Varsity. Deceived by an alluring woman of the night, arrogant Greek wanderer Cleofas finds himself pinioned by a marble statue in an isolated ruin. His arm trapped in an unyielding stone fist, the harsh Mediterranean sun threatens to drive him delirious before an ignominious death of thirst. His only possible salvation lies with a cloaked, misshapen lurker that speaks in riddles. The shrouded figure offers him escape, but at a terrible price. A nasty little grimdark fable that deals quite directly with hubris and the punishment thereof, “The Sacrifice” lingers in the brain.

Die By the Sword is a strong collection of stories from fascinating newer voices. While not every story hit the mark with me, it is important to emphasize that NONE of the stories in Die By the Sword are boring. Violent action and fast-paced storytelling are ubiquitous, there is a generous serving of horror, and the stories are peppered with crowd-pleasing operatic themes like self-destructive revenge, desperate rescue missions, and rulers in exile. In addition to its reprints, DMR Books has devoted a great deal of effort to showcasing newer pulp sword & sorcery and dark fantasy authors. It’s exciting to see DMR casting its net even wider with open calls for submissions, and it is this reviewer’s hope that the proposed series continues.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on May 13, 2023.

Killer

By Peter Tonkin – Valancourt Books – February 7, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

After Peter Benchley’s Jaws was published in 1974, its massive success and that of the 1975 film adaptation inspired a wave of authors and filmmakers hoping to hit the commercial jackpot with their own lurid tales of aquatic creatures terrorizing those poor fools who thought it was safe to go back into the water. Books and films about piranhas and giant octopi followed, and Guy N. Smith even memorably wrote a series of novels about killer crustaceans, beginning with Night of the Crabs in 1976. Larger and more intelligent than Jaws’ iconic great white shark, killer whales also enjoyed a brief moment in the spotlight. Produced by Dino De Laurentiis and starring Richard Harris and Charlotte Rampling, Orca: The Killer Whale was released to theaters in 1977, to poor reviews and middling box office results. Peter Tonkin’s 1979 novel Killer, however, fared much better. Lean and tightly plotted, Killer emphasized the orca’s formidable physicality and intelligence in prose in a way that Orca: The Killer Whale failed to accomplish on the silver screen. While successful in both the United Kingdom—the author’s home country—and in the United States, Tonkin struggled to produce subsequent novels. The aquatic horror boom faded with time, and Killer inevitably fell out of print.

Now, more than four decades since the book’s debut, Killer is back. It received glowing coverage in Grady Hendrix’s Paperbacks from Hell: The Twisted History of ‘70s and ‘80s Horror Fiction (2017) retrospective, and now the novel itself is a part of Valancourt Books’ companion PAPERBACKS FROM HELL line of cult classic horror novels curated by Hendrix and Too Much Horror Fiction blogger Will Errickson. The Valancourt Books release is available in both digital and nostalgia-inspiring mass market paperback format, with Ken Barr’s vintage cover artwork and a new introduction by Hendrix.

The titular Killer is a massive orca raised in captivity as a part of a US Navy experiment. Trained dolphins were used during the Vietnam War to detect enemy divers attempting to sabotage moored ships, and the novel envisions an evolved version of the real-life Marine Mammal Program, one in which an orca—more powerful and more intelligent than a dolphin—is conditioned not just to find suspicious swimmers, but to terminate them as well. The killer whale takes to its training all too well and, inevitably for this type of horror story, a moment of human error leads to disaster. The orca kills one of its captors and escapes its enclosure, fleeing to the deep sea with a taste for human flesh.

Some time later, promising young scientist Kate Warren sets out for an Arctic research camp, hoping to form a closer relationship with her brilliant but (both physically and emotionally) distant marine botanist father. Their brief reunion is cruelly interrupted when their plane crashes en route to the research facility, leaving father and daughter trapped on an aimlessly drifting ice floe with four other survivors. Resources are meagre and tempers quickly grow strained, as the group of survivors includes both arrogant camp director Simon Quick and Colin Ross, the taciturn scarred man Simon holds responsible for the death of his loved ones after a disastrous Antarctic expedition. The situation deteriorates even further when the stranded party comes to the attention of the escaped killer whale, now dominating an entire pod of two dozen wild orcas. The killer’s training kicks in and he becomes fixated on the humans, intent on both devouring them and teaching the pleasures of human meat to his fellow cetaceans.

Killer is a taut story of survival. Where Benchley’s Jaws filled pages with meandering subplots involving the Mafia and Police Chief Brody’s wife’s infidelity (wisely excised from the film adaptation by Steven Spielberg), Tonkin wastes no time getting to the good stuff. The six stranded individuals are rarely given time to catch their breath, and neither is the reader. Killer is also clearly a horror novel, rather than a simple wilderness adventure. Whenever the killer whales fall upon their prey (be it human, whale, polar bear, or walrus), the violence is almost triumphantly graphic. Where the shark in Jaws is a solitary, almost machine-like predator, Tonkin uses the orcas’ pack tactics and malicious cunning to great effect. The survivors are always on the defensive, struggling to deal with the killer whales’ organized ambush attacks while supplies dwindle and their ice floe gradually, inexorably disintegrates around them.

While tension—punctuated with bursts of gory violence—dominates Killer, Tonkin also deftly captures the emotional dimension of the story. Even before the killer whales arrive on the scene, the gripping plane crash sequence effectively reveals each character’s inner world, sliding from perspective to perspective as each of them confronts their own mortality. Some react with grim resignation, others turn to religious faith (fascinating supporting character Job wavers between Methodist Christianity and the Arctic gods of his Inuit heritage), while others reveal cowardice and contempt for their fellow man. The tendencies and weaknesses displayed during the crash scene become more and more pronounced on the ice floe as the survivors’ situation grows more desperate.

Does Tonkin succeed in his original goal of outdoing Benchley’s Jaws? Killer perhaps holds together better as a novel; Jaws is a rare example of the movie adaptation being better than the original book. On the other hand, the orca’s superior size and intelligence aside, on a primal level there’s something deeply terrifying about great white sharks that orcas can’t quite match. Killer is an easy recommendation for enthusiasts of “animal attack” horror novels, but the vastly uneven odds and interpersonal conflict among the survivors is likely to appeal to fans of zombie novels as well. With Peter Tonkin’s Killer, the PAPERBACKS FROM HELL reprint line has resurfaced another winner.

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This review originally appeared at Grimdark Magazine on May 10, 2023.

Tales From The Magician’s Skull – No. 10

By Goodman Publications – April 12, 2023

Review by Robin Marx

First debuting in 2018, Goodman Publications’ Tales From The Magician’s Skull has reached its landmark tenth issue. While the arrival of new magazines dedicated to short fantasy fiction is not uncommon, Tales From The Magician’s Skull distinguishes itself from its fellows via its specific editorial focus and high production values. Directed by editor Howard Andrew Jones, the magazine is dedicated to never-before-published stories written in the classic pulp Sword & Sorcery tradition.

In addition to digital formats, the magazine is available in high-quality physical volumes manufactured via traditional offset printing (rather than print-on-demand). This tenth issue boasts a vibrant cover painting by veteran paperback cover and comic book artist Sanjulian, and each of the nine stories contained within have been given their own accompanying black and white illustration. Interior artists include Jennell Jaquays, Brad McDevitt, and Stefan Poag.

In an essay titled “Defining Sword-and-Sorcery” (collected in special issue No. 0 of Tales From The Magician’s Skull), Jones describes his vision of the S&S sub-genre and what distinguishes it from other varieties of fantasy. He highlights the outsider hero as one of the hallmarks of S&S: the protagonists often exist on the margins of society as wandering barbarians or thieves, rather than comfortably ensconced nobles and townsfolk. S&S heroes tend to live by their wits and martial ability, with magic either unreliable as a tool or outright malignant. And rather than lofty ideals or nation-level politics, these heroes tend to be motivated by earthier, more immediate concerns: the acquisition of wealth, romantic desire or lust, or the simple will to survive another day. Jones also emphasizes the breakneck pacing of S&S stories and their focus on violent action. All of the stories contained in this tenth issue demonstrate these qualities, making Tales From The Magician’s Skull an easy recommendation to readers who enjoy an abundance of action and peril in their fantasy.

The magazine’s cover art is dedicated to “The Demon Rats,” by C. L. Werner, a prolific author of licensed fiction set in the various WARHAMMER settings. The story involves Shintaro Oba, a disgraced samurai who finds himself tasked with exterminating a suspiciously coordinated horde of iron-fanged rodents intent on destroying a temple’s library of scriptures. He receives some assistance from an alluring shape-shifter with her own agenda. While Shintaro Oba has appeared in previous stories, no prior knowledge of the character is required to enjoy this adventure. Both the premise and characters are colorful, but some of the names feel awkwardly constructed in Japanese.

Perhaps the simplest story in the issue is also one of the most effective. “Green Face, Purple Haze” by Marc DeSantis is about an American soldier in the Vietnam War who finds himself magically transported to a fantasy realm with its own battles raging. Gunpowder fails to work, robbing him of the technological advantage of his assault rifle, but his modern military training and indomitable fighting spirit serve him well in the conflict between humans and the bestial urks. Although the specific words of the modern US Marine mantra “Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.” do not appear in the text, this story entertainingly celebrates that ethos. With its focus on the unchanging nature of war and visceral combat descriptions, this story in particular has a lot to love for grimdark enthusiasts.

Many of the stories collected in this issue are grounded and gritty, but others venture into much stranger territory. “The Sorcerer’s Mask” by Jason Ray Carney, managing editor of Whetstone: Amateur Magazine of Pulp Sword and Sorcery, involves an unnamed thief unjustly cast into a vast dungeon by a paranoid immortal wizard. The Rogue must rely on his wits and the aid of an enigmatic soothsayer to effect his escape, and there is a sense of grim inevitability leading up to the final confrontation. The story moves quickly despite its vivid detail, covering a surprising amount of ground in a mere six pages. “A Simple Errand” by Grimdark Magazine contributor Matthew John also involves a prison break, but one where a sorcerer (or “meddler” in the story’s parlance) frees a barbarian warrior awaiting execution in order to put him to work on a dark mission: killing an alien god on another world. This adventure is packed with hallucinatory imagery worthy of Roger Dean’s cosmic prog rock album artwork.

A surprise highlight of the issue was “The Black Pearl of the Sunken Lands,” by Cynthia Ward. In this story, a headstrong youth named Bruko vows to reclaim a legendary lost treasure to prove himself worthy of the affections of a beautiful maiden. This familiar premise is freshened by the fact that the protagonist is a nereus (aquatic humanoid) and his sidekick in the endeavor is an intelligent dolphin with blades strapped to his fins. It’s a simple thing, but the underwater setting makes a significant difference in the feel of the story. Ward’s sly humor further enhances the piece; the object of Bruko’s affections makes it pretty obvious to the reader that she’s not especially interested in marrying Bruko, and the dolphin companion proves to be more intelligent than the hero he’s accompanying.

The stories in this issue all share brisk pacing and an emphasis on swordplay, but their heroes are diverse in nature. In addition to Werner’s samurai hero, African-inspired and Native American warriors (in “Nzara” by D. J. Tyrer and “The Silent Mound” by Charles D. Shell, respectively) also have opportunities to shine. One of the toughest and most physically imposing characters herein is a woman: Dakagna, heroine of the grimdark-inflected “Dakagna and the Blood Scourge” by W. J. Lewis. At the opposite end of the spectrum is Jade, the heroine of Jeffery Sergent’s “The Eye of Kaleet,” who uses guile to survive situations where she is clearly outmatched martially.

The issue concludes with a brief appendix entitled “The Monster Pit,” giving various monsters appearing in the fiction game statistics for use with the publisher’s Dungeon Crawl Classics Role Playing Game. This is a fun addendum for players of DCC RPG or other games with systems largely compatible with early editions of Dungeons & Dragons, but the page count it occupies is minimal, meaning that non-gamer readers are unlikely to feel alienated or slighted by the non-prose content.

Ten issues and nearly five years in, Tales From The Magician’s Skull continues to deliver fantastic action-adventure tales in an appealing and polished package. Previous issues included a number of established names familiar to fans of contemporary Sword & Sorcery—Adrian Cole, James Enge, John C. Hocking, Violette Malan—but the most recent installments have also begun incorporating exciting newer voices as well. The magazine enjoys near universal acclaim among Sword & Sorcery readers and has become a sort of Holy Grail venue for S&S writers looking to showcase their work, but—like the sub-genre itself—one still gets the feeling that Tales From The Magician’s Skull isn’t quite getting the sort of wider recognition its quality deserves. Whether this is due to difficulties in promoting short fantasy fiction in today’s increasingly entertainment-saturated market is unclear. Perhaps the magazine’s association with a role-playing game publisher and each issue’s appendix of game statistics lead some fantasy readers to assume that Tales From The Magician’s Skull is an RPG magazine, rather than an original fiction magazine with some bonus RPG content. Sword & Sorcery tales are full of scrappy underdogs doing whatever it takes to survive, but like those heroes it’s nice to see the underdogs rewarded in the end with glory and gold. Other Grimdark Magazine contributors (cf. Matthew John’s Robert E. Howard: Godfather of Grimdark? and John R. Fultz’s The Mud, The Blood, and the Years: Why “Grimdark” is the New “Sword and Sorcery”) have remarked upon the considerable amount of shared DNA between Sword & Sorcery and grimdark fantasy fiction. Grimdark readers are encouraged to give Tales From The Magician’s Skull a look, perhaps it will become a new favorite discovery.

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