Another slice of stories as part of Dark Continents Tales of Darkness and Dismay series, A Gentle Hell by Autumn Christian
showcases a distinctive cluster of four tales – brimming at the edge with what
could be termed ‘surrealist’ fiction but devoid of absurdity. Often hard to
nail down but somehow more potent for it, this is a body of work very similar
to my previous review ... where the story is – at the discretion of the reader –
always open to interpretation. The ultimate payoff here is keen insights from
the author and elegiac prose.
An almost dystopian alternate reality is the scene
for They Promised Dreamless Sleep.
Here our narrator reports living in a realm where families consensually hook up
to ‘machines’ and are placated in severe and disturbing ways. Shades of 1984
with a domestic twist.
In Your
Demiurge is Dead we step into Neil Gaiman territory with the death of a God
and the birth of another. Jehovah has washed up – dead – on the Gulf of Mexico.
Heralding a new era for humanity is the Triple Goddess. Another domestic
setting is instigated with a police investigation into deaths in a large family.
Through quirky characters and idealistic insights, we are granted a story that
is at once confounding yet absorbing.
With the The
Dog That Bit Her, Autumn delivers what is probably the most unique Werewolf
tale you’ll ever encounter. It’s a story about psychological addictions and
slavish trust – all given credence by a storyteller who witnesses his wife’s
slow decent into what could be termed, unquestionably, a gentle hell.
It is the last tale, however, that is probably the
hardest to grant revelation. In The
Singing Grass, I imagine artists everywhere will be granted something
within the prose to identify with as a writer tries to find her muse. Heavy on
metaphor, and (in the end) gore, it somehow serves as symmetry and complements
what has come before.
For many, this will be a difficult journey. The
often rudimentary formula of ‘story’ has been abolished in favor of flights of
fancy that are allegorical or dream like in nature. It is often claimed for
horror that it draws on our primitive responses but, as in key moments of this
collection, the best stories can owe their power to something closer to the
modern surface.
