![]() ![]() Throw in some fog and a waxy full moon and I'll be good until the morning. ![]() Vampire crawling out of a casket? Even better. Give me a lonely graveyard or a cobweb-strewn hallway and I'll manage to get my buzz. Like many, I'm attracted to the various trappings and aesthetics of the horror genre, even down to the hoariest of settings. Chetwynd-Hayes' "The Thing" and David Grant's "The Bats" and Martin Waddell's "Cannibals." But when I arrived at the pair of tales written by William Sansom (1912 - 1976), “A Smell of Fear” and "The Little Room," the last thing I imagined I would find was actual horror. The collection certainly had given me my share of this with the likes of R. When I picked up my copy of The Seventh Pan Book of Horror Stories (1966), what I had expected were tales of gangrenous aberrations and loathsome creatures of the night. Being that individualized reviews for the book's diverse contents are hardly if ever written, this only increases the unpredictability of each story. The tricky thing about anthologies is that you're never entirely sure what you're going to get with them. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |