A real struggle, one of those books where even halfway through I wasn’t entirely sure if I liked it. Turns out I do, despite the fifty billion names I had to memorise, and I’ve already borrowed the next book. A classic of the “kicks ass but I totally get it if you bounced off” genre.
A deeply strange, beautiful, and melancholy book about a period in history that still defies understanding. Absolutely not what I was expecting from this book, but I’m so glad I read it. In my mind Stasiland deserves a place alongside Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried as something so much less and so much more than a history book.
“That's the danger of Fascism, of state-worship. It supposes an absolute, an egocentric unit. The idea of the state is not rooted in the masses, it is not of the people. It is an abstract, a God-idea, a psychic dung-hill raised to shore up an economic system that is no longer safe. When you're on the top of that sort of dung-hill, it doesn't matter whether the ends are in reality good or bad. The fact that they are your ends makes them good—for you." (215)
Based as fuck. I miss when all the good spy novels were written by socialists.
A fun little horror novella, but unfortunately having already seen The Fall of the House of Usher and The Last of Us I’d figured the whole plot out about fifty pages in.
Very complicated feelings about this one. Spoilers ahead.
Obviously, reviewers are right to point out that a fair chunk of the horror lies in the sexual abuse of two women, not to mention the implication that the "reason" someone is a lesbian is either they are being possessed by a pervert ghost or they were molested as a kid. No matter when the book was written, that's still deeply uncomfortable in a way that goes far beyond the limits of a horror author trying to freak you out. If someone put down Hell House for that reason, that is completely fair enough.
However, I still though the book was a great example of haunted house horror, and I really enjoyed it. Is that hypocritical, or insensitive? Maybe. But the fact is that part of when makes horror so fascinating is its ability to evoke visceral reactions from people even when they know it's all made up. The horror in Hell House feels real. It's not upside-down crosses and some dopey Satan lookalike. It's a house utterly besmirched by debauchery, by elites with no desires beyond their own hedonism. It's the hateful, vile echoes of those elites reaching down through the years to torture others for no reason beyond the simple fact they can. It's unpleasant. And, more impressively, it's a good read. You'd be amazed how hard it is to find an author who can manage both.
Is it problematic, in a way that can't be excused just by pointing out that a pervert murder ghost from the 1920s probably isn't very PC? Absolutely. And again, I firmly believe that if these topics are something you don't want to read about, then you shouldn't have to apologise for that. But, if you are comfortable looking past that, you will find an excellent haunted house novel that rivals even Haunting of Hill House - if not in writing quality, than at least in sheer skin-crawling unease.
Hm. Not really sure where I landed with this one. A fun little read before bedtime. I will say, Kiernan did definitely commit to being really fucking weird, and that's always fun to see.
Disappointing, because I really wanted to like this one. There's a lot of potential here - from the postwar New England gothic-ish setting to the idea of recasting Lovecraft's (famously racist) mythos as a condemnation of human intolerance - but Emrys never really does anything with it. The writing was often confusing, and characters seemed to lack, well, character. The setting felt very vague, trapped in a weird in-between space where magic was widely known to be real but also completely hidden and ignored. Even the portrayals of discriminiation, the Big Message of the book as far as I could tell, felt perfunctory. I was just really hoping for something more than I got.