The Keep by Paul F. Wilson

A massive novel, and an Epic Volume, The Keep starts strong and gets better and better. The book has corpses, castles, Nazis, medieval evil and terror hardened villagers and soldiers.  There are mysterious messages written in blood, an unknown evil wreaking havoc, and an ancient sorceror from the 'First Age' of humans. There's something so satisfying about Nazis getting it in the neck.  It's not hard to pinpoint, and the physical and psionic assaults on the hapless German soldiers stay satisfying til the end.

German soldiers and SS einsatzkommandos are being slowly killed off in a mysterious castle (the "Keep" of the title) high in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania in April 1941. A Jewish History Professor living in Bucharest, Theodore Cuza, and his daughter Magda, are collected and delivered in a desperate effort by SS Sturmbannfuhrer Eric Kaempffer to find out what is murdering his men.

It’s shocking to discover that there are Romanians out there who do not believe in vampires, but they come to their senses before long. The Keep is a full on operatic novel, with pedigree, partially let down by a film version by Michael Mann for Paramount in 1983. The film was a disaster but retains a cult following, partly due to Tangerine Dream's work on the soundtrack.

Every night I was reading this (the book is better than the film!) my delight increased, and approaching a bedside table that has a copy of The Keep on it is a thrill not to be undervalued. The Keep has runes in it that say ‘stranger leave my home’ – so everything is perfectly laid out, and executed. To the last Nazi.

'Cowed by the amplified sounds of his own terror, Grunstadt stood transfixed as the walll into which his friend had crawled bulged outward, minute cracks appearing along the jagged edges of the heavy granite blocks.  A wide cravice jagged up from the space left by the stone they had removed.  The few puny lights strung along the corridor began to dim, and when they were nearly out, the wall burst open with a final convulsive termor, showering Grunstadt with shards of shattered stone and releasing something inconceivably black that leaped out and enveloped him with a single smooth swift flowing motion.  The horror had begun.'

The horror continues at Epic Volumes
More horrific doings at http://peterburnett.info/horror

The Nameless by Ramsay Campbell

Ramsay Campbell is unpredictable, and it’s kind of hard to guess what you’re going to get. I wouldn’t put The Nameless (1981) at the forefront of the Ramsey oeuvre, because although it starts well, it transitions to the climax too slowly for me. It depends what you’re reading for I guess, and I'm more of a shock a minute type of reader.  So although Epic, Ramsey Cambell's volumes are to be treated as personal.

The story is about a woman who has lost her daughter, only to receive a phone call nine years later from a person she believes is the girl – and it all leads her into the world of a hideous and sadistic cult of people with no names – among other things.

As far as I know, The Nameless is the only one of Ramsey Campbell's many novels to have been filmed – so far. It’s a pity, yes, but it certainly is the easiest in terms of plot. I can't say I enjoyed the film, which is something of a modern gallio, if you know this Italian genre.  I had no idea they were still making them, and I was surprised they even optioned this novel for it, as it bore so little relation. A proper, even British, film of The Nameless would be more satisfying.

The highlights in The Nameless come pretty early, when the hero Barbara is creeping around the deserted safe houses used by the cult, making shocking discoveries.  These are truly creepy scenes with an atmosphere that isn’t caught again until near the end. During these genre-perfect thrill-a-page passages, which seem in parts as stock as anything James Herbert might produce, the book is diverting, enjoyable and possessed of a down to earth suspense that is best served late at night.

As is common though in the horror game, The Nameless doesn’t lead to a ultimatell, full-on, epic and fulfilling ending; I mean, the end is good, but perfunctory, given the build-up was so fantastic. 

Horror fans are fussy like this, and I know among the most demanding. A lot of horror reading is about enjoying the moment as opposed to imagining a fulfilling and entire work. It means that the great build up , which really comes to very little, proves in a way that the high hopes enjoyed throughout the book must be valued – not dismissed merely because they are dashed aside in closing.

Finishing is so hard to do, and we can never know if there are sadistic forces at work behind the scenes in a writer’s life. It is after all, a horrific business.

The Nameless at the Epic Volumes Vault
http://peterburnett.info