New Arrival: Nothing But Blackened Teeth by Cassandra Khaw

 

Many horror fans are probably familiar with the image of Samara, the creepy ghost girl from The Ring, crawling out of the television, her damp, black hair forming a veil across her face. They might not know that she originally appeared in the movie Ringu and in the novel by Koji Suzuki. They also might not know that, in the novel, her name is Sadako Yamamura and she is the vengeful spirit, or onryo, of a young woman who was murdered and thrown into a well. However, there are also fans of J-Horror films and stories who are quite aware of Koji Suzuki and other creators in this subgenre. Fans of those stories will be delighted to know that Cassandra Khaw’s Nothing But Blackened Teeth expertly uses Japanese mythology and spirituality, as well as some down-to-earth human ugliness, to tighten the screws on some adult friends who just wanted to attend a wedding in a haunted mansion.

Those who have seen a few horror movies already know that having a wedding in a mansion that’s supposed to be haunted is a terrible idea, but it doesn’t stop four friends from planning a wedding there. Nadia and Faiz are there to tie the knot, while Phillip is the friend from old money who has made this wedding possible. Relating these events is the semi-reliable narrator Cat, recently recovered from depression and disliking her best friend Faiz’s new bride (the feeling is quite mutual). Throw in Lin, the comic relief that the friends don’t really find funny, and you have a group that are basically fodder for the ghost bride that is happy to finally have some living guests at her mansion.

This novella is a quick and brutal read but Khaw’s gift for description paints a vivid picture of the supernatural terrors that borrow heavily from Japanese folklore. Throwing around terms like yokai and kitsune might confuse some readers, but Khaw not only provides enough context to keep the readers in the story, she demonstrates a knowledge of these terms that grounds the story in if not reality then authenticity. The characters trapped in this nightmare might not be ones the reader would like to spend time with, but they will want to see what happens to them as the story progresses to a violent and even heartbreaking end. Nothing but Blackened Teeth is an example of a novella that showcases why this medium shines at telling horror stories, providing the depth of a novel with the pace that quickens the readers’ heartbeats. It also is the perfect novella for J-Horror fans that want to delve into its particular brand of mythology.

Graphic Content: Abbott and Abbott 1973

 

Urban fantasy and paranormal romance, including works by Jim Butcher and Patricia Biggs, are two speculative subgenres that often get lumped together. And just like chocolate and peanut butter, they create something better than the sum of their parts. Rather than dissect these stories for the elements that are either urban fantasy or paranormal romance, the meager taken up with this review would be better spent enlightening readers about a pair of graphic novels that are not only a great example of both urban fantasy and paranormal romance but contains some social commentary into which readers can sink their mental teeth. These two graphic novels are Abbott and its sequel Abbott 1973, both written by Saladin Ahmed and illustrated by Sami Kivelä.

Abbott introduces the reader to chain-smoking, tough as nails Elena Abbott, tabloid reporter with an acerbic wit, a need to always be smoking, and a supernatural destiny that piques the interest of the dark forces brewing in Detroit. In Abbott, Elena must battle a secret society with close ties to the Umbra, a literal force of darkness that wants to destroy the world. The first book introduces the reader to Abbott’s world and its colorful characters, some who don’t make it to the end of the first story. In Abbott 1973, after learning more about her destiny and enjoying a new relationship, Elena must find out who or what is trying to interfere in Detroit’s mayoral election. Elena and her friends must battle not only the agents of the Umbra but also the racism and corruption that flow through Detroit’s streets like poison.

Those who like hard-boiled noir, ‘70s cop shows, or urban fantasy will find something to like in Ahmed’s story. Elena features prominently in every panel, always smoking and rarely smiling. Elena might not have a lot to smile about, particularly when it comes to her status in this version of the Motor City. Elena has lost lovers to threats both mundane and paranormal, and she faces racism as well as sexism in her job as a reporter, but these struggles are what make her an interesting character as well as someone to whom modern readers can relate. Kivelä’s artwork helps immerse the reader in Elena’s world, not only by invoking the fashion and aesthetic of the ‘70s but by using an art style that brings to mind early ‘80s Vertigo comics. These books are for fans of The Dresden Files as well as the Mercy Thompson series, but they also display a social awareness in its depictions, for example, of racism among Detroit’s police. This look into deeper, darker issues that aren’t supernatural helps set it apart from the many heroines of this genre that are both witty and tough as nails.

Stream to Scream: Relic and Come Closer by Sara Gran

 

One particular Calvin and Hobbes comic stands out in my mind when I think of the strip’s philosophical underpinnings. As young Calvin and his imaginary pet tiger Hobbes are wandering through the forest, Calvin asks his anthropomorphic tiger if he believes in the devil and Hobbes, an astute, unbiased observer, states, “I’m not sure man needs the help.” Despite many believing this much more nuanced take on the origins of human evil, many possession stories, where a devil literally makes someone do something, still exist, but recent ones have also become more nuanced than “demon enters someone then others try to force it out.” The 2020 movie Relic uses the supernatural as a metaphor for losing oneself as the body loses its battle with time. Come Closer by Sara Gran, on the other hand, gives a very intimate and harrowing portrayal of losing oneself to a demonic entity, a battle that has the line between human and demon constantly blurring.

Relic stars Emily Mortimer as Kay, a woman who realizes that her mother Edna is not the woman Kay knew. After hearing that her mother has vanished, Kay and her adult daughter travel to Edna’s cottage and discover clues to Edna’s deteriorating mental state. Those fears are not assuaged when Edna returns and exhibits some very odd behavior. Not to mention, there is some strange mold growing in the house and Kay is having some very unusual dreams. This all leads to a very surreal meditation on mortality as well as our own eventual decay. Relic has some frightening images, but what really makes this movie stick with you is how powerless Kay, or anyone, is to stop what’s happening.

That helplessness is also part of what makes Sara Gran’s Come Closer so terrifying. Told exclusively through protagonist Amanda’s experiences, the story begins with her experiencing lapses in memory and strange dreams, dreams of a red beach and a strange woman with sharp teeth. Soon, Amanda’s behavior becomes more erratic. Her husband soon becomes concerned, then begins to drift away, while Amanda tries everything from therapy to a self-help book on demonic possession that pretty much verifies that Amanda is indeed possessed. However, just as Edna is powerless to stop her decline, Amanda is constantly thwarted by the demon, usually by taking control of her body long enough to dissuade anyone from helping her. Both stories talk about a slow and horrifying loss of control, but Come Closer has the reader vicariously experience Amanda’s possession. Far from the spinning head and vomiting, Amanda’s demon is much more subtle and sinister, simply having Amanda commit petty crimes and seek out men for anonymous sex. What is the scariest about Amanda’s loss of control is that it becomes difficult to see just how much or how little the demon influences Amanda. Maybe Hobbs was onto something.

Have You Read This? Clown in a Cornfield by Adame Cesare

 

As a librarian, I am exposed to a lot of books. As a scary librarian, I am exposed to a lot of scary books, mainly, I’ll admit, because I choose to. But even a scary librarian cannot abide by just adult horror, and I thought it high time I broaden my horizons. That necessity to escape my typical reading choices, as well as the particular time of year, is why I’m looking at a young adult horror novel that should be scary for people of any age, Clown in a Cornfield by Adam Cesare. And while the weather outside is turning colder, and the leaves crunching underfoot give way to frosted and frozen earth, this book is still a great read for any fan, young or old, who is a fan of the slasher genre.

The story takes place in the town of Kettle Springs, Missouri, which is all about traditional American values and Frendo, the mascot of the town and of the factory that used to be the town’s lifeblood. Quinn Maybrook and her father Glen move to scenic Kettle Springs with its miles of corn fields, a widening rift between the town’s teens and their parents, and a homicidal clown that wants to crash a teen party out in the cornfield. It was a fun party until Frendo came . . . and started killing. What begins as a teen party full of dancing and alcohol becomes a war between the younger and older generations of the town.

What initially drew me to this book was the plot, a throwback to the slasher movies of the ‘80s sprinkled with modern sensibilities. The kids that populate this world, however, aren’t as throwaway as many of the teens in those slasher flicks and that is to Cesare’s benefit. It would be very easy to merely narrate a slasher walking around and exterminating teens too stupid to know that being alone was a terrible idea. But Cesare doesn’t go for the simple homage; he creates an interesting story that’s full of teen angst but also gory fun. Those who might think that a young adult novel would mean it has less teeth than, say, a Stephen Graham Jones slasher, but Cesare doesn’t skimp on the brutality of the deaths. There are no convenient cutaways from the deaths to spare readers the gory details. Both teens and adults are dispatched in gruesome and creative ways. For my first foray into Young Adult fiction, I was glad to meet this killer clown, and I look forward to seeing where Frendo ends up next.