Graphic Content #4
Welcome back to Haunted MTL’s ongoing horror comic review feature, Graphic Content. In our fourth installment, we’ll be keeping up with John Constantine: Hellblazer and Sink. With previous favorite Killadelphia on break, we’re giving a new series a try titled The Grieviling, from a well-regarded horror comic team.
As always, we’re always looking for title suggestions. So please let us know in the comments what you’d like for us to tackle.
John Constantine: Hellblazer #6
Issue #6 is a single-issue story titled “Quiet.” This issue spends some quality time with John’s newest assistant, Noah who has been floating in and out of the hospice care where his mother resides since we were introduced to his character. This episode uses time with him to examine some of the other lives within the ward, but more to the point, provide a glimpse of the ills of society. This issue plays on a larger leftist critique on the Tory government though Noah’s own story. This is classic Hellblazer storytelling; monsters and metaphors. The comic turns the satirical eye to a building of the elderly and the infirm, unable to die, turning it into a site of stalking by a ghost, feeding on the lives of the dying.
A ghost that just so happens catches the eye of John Constantine thanks to Noah. While John is quick to figure out what is going on, the day is “saved” as much as it can be in Hellblazer through Noah. John may be forever damaged goods and a right bastard, but something about him seems to make others into better people. It’s a quick, single-issue story, but it’s fine stuff.
Aaron Campbell returns to art duties and as expected his art is a perfect fit for Constantine’s world. The illustrations are about as rough as prior issues, in that the forms are solid but the lines have a rougher quality to them, like a pencil or a pen that is drying up. It gives Hellblazer‘s London a certain aura. Especially given Jordie Bellaire’s coloring style. Characters are given full-color consideration whereas the backgrounds offer more unified and slightly limited pallets. There are, of course, the glimpses of the magical world which have a very painterly and abstracted air to them. The Campbell and Bellaire team-up continues to impress.
(4 / 5)
John Constantine: Hellblazer #6 was written by Simon Spurrier, illustrated by Aaron Campbell, and colored by Jordie Bellaire.
Sink #3
Sink #3 is a story titled “A Head Full of Wasps” and continues the anthologized glimpse at the damaged lives of Sinkhill. This time around, however, the story starts us off in Edinburgh and introduces us to another Sinkhill toughie, but one who has changed significantly in their time away from the neighborhood. The story follows the old killer, at the behest of the children of a recently passed friend, returning for revenge.
It’s a fascinating issue revolving around identities, dead-names, and again, as with the prior two issues, the ways trauma manifests within and around people in this community. Also, the clowns are back. Horrifying. While this is definitely more of a crime book, I feel comfortable tackling it as horror. I mean, sure enough, horrific things happen. If you read horror for monsters then maybe with Sink it works because the monsters themselves tend to be so abstract. Sinkhill itself is a monster. Transphobia is a monster. The various horrible bastards of each story are monsters in their own ways.
While each issue has been anthologized in tackling different figures, there are connections being formed. I also hope we see more of Florence again. That’s an interesting view of the world I’d love to experience more.
Alex Cormack’s artwork here is stunning and the paneling in a particular moment with a shattered glass is fascinating and an example of the kind of visual storytelling only ever possible in comics. Of course, the comic is also suitably bloody with buckets of gore after a particularly brutal bar brawl. Of particular notice are the way Cormack tackles scarred and lacerated hands.
(4 / 5)
Sink #3 was written by John Lees and illustrated and colored by Alex Cormack.
The Grievling #1
The Grievling is a two-part limited series that pairs horror-comic icon Steve Niles with artist Damien Worm. The first issue is a moody, simple tale of accidental murder and asks difficult questions of the culpability of minors.
Lily is the “weird” girl at her school. The sort of arbitrarily chosen punching bag of the normative-skewing children at her school. Lily’s time spent at the graveyard, at her mother’s grave freaks out local kids and on Halloween night their bullying of her results in tragedy. Lily comes out of the experience with a new lease on life and a strange new entity along for the ride. It’s very much like the first half of a pilot of a Netflix-style drama. It’s effective storytelling and there is a good setup to something larger, but it feels extremely calculated. Less a true desire to tell a story on its own terms and more of a desire to have a book to pitch to studios.
Granted, the story isn’t bad, and sure enough there is potential for an amazing show, but The Grievling is just a pre-visualization for something else. It’s not a comic because it needs to be a comic. It’s a marketing tool. It is a fine read, and it is interesting, don’t get me wrong.
It just feels so much like a marketing tool. The arbitrary two-issue length seems too calculated and whatever elements that interest most about the concept are not likely to be explored well enough. There is a compelling story in here about the dark side of children but that is likely not going to be explored well enough within two issues, leaving the antagonist children as just hollow characterizations of kids gone bad with little of the exploratory depth the characters deserve. Hell, Lily’s relationship with her father and the tragedy within her family also need room to breathe, but two issues just does not seem like enough space to tackle that.
Damien Worm’s artwork is great for the material and it’s no wonder Niles and Worm have continued to work together. They seem like a perfectly aligned creative entity. Their previous work on The October Faction is well regarded, and Worm’s style delivers for the story playing out in the first issue.
I just wish the end product didn’t feel so calculated for a Netflix deal.
(3.5 / 5)
The Grievling #1 was written by Steve Niles and illustrated by Damien Worm.
Stay tuned for another installment of Graphic Content this month. If you have a comic you’d like to see us cover please let us know!
“It is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts.
‘The Werewolf.’
Published way back in 1979, Angela Carter’s short story anthology The Bloody Chamber is now considered a classic by many people. It is also thought of as one of Carter’s more, if not most, controversial fictional works. It is common knowledge that fairy and folk tales of old are a lot darker than the cartoon versions we are familiar with. Carter takes this darkness to a new level. These stories contain common themes of sexual desire, violence and love. Many of these stories depict explicit sexual descriptions. If you are a person who takes note of trigger warnings be aware. These stories contain scenes that discuss and depict abuse, bestiality, rape, incest and paedophilia.
The Stories.
Each of Carter’s ten stories in The Bloody Chamber collection are based on fairy or folk tales. In several of these stories this is obvious. For example, the collections eponymous story, ‘The Bloody Chamber’, is undoubtedly based on the tale of Bluebeard and Carter’s Puss-in-Boots keeps its original name. We see Beauty and the Beast represented obviously in both ‘The Courtship of Mr Lyon’ and ‘The Tiger’s Bride’.
There are other stories here that only pull at the loose threads of existing fairy or folk tales; taking a single thought or idea and running with it in another direction completely. There are actually several that seem to mashup a combination of stories in one. For example, in ‘The Lady of the House of Love’, the plot as a whole feels like a take on Sleeping Beauty, but there is an obvious reference to Jack and the Beanstalk. The Countess reciting the ‘fee, fi, fo, fum’ rhyme of that story to her victim.
Highlights.
I am a sucker for both fairy and folk tales and as such the highlight here for me was seeing characters and parts of plots that are somewhat familiar in a different light. This sort of ‘re-telling’ (for want of a better word) invites the reader to ask ‘what if’ and I think that that is a very powerful thing to do.
There was a certain dark, wintery aesthetic to all of the stories in this collection that was also big highlight for me. The rain, the wind, the snow, I could feel the chill rising off the pages. The repeated images of birds and birdcages, mirrors and roses created ominous feel and really ticked all of the gothic horror boxes.
Drawbacks.
There were two issues that I had with reading this anthology that really made me struggle to get through to the final pages.
The first was the style of Carter’s writing. Yes, I understand that these are adult fairy tales and there is a level of flowery, descriptive writing that is expected to encounter as a result. But I just felt like I was drowning in dense description in several of these stories. So much so that my brain zoned out several times and I had to stop and rewind, turning back to reread several pages at a time.
My second issue was that it often felt like the violence was skimmed over due to the length of some of the stories, one being only two pages long. The reader barely has time to process what has happened before the story had ended and a new one begun. It often felt like getting punched in the face. For some this point might land in the highlights section, but for me it was a big drawback.
Final Take.
The stories in The Bloody Chamber anthology are divisive. Some love every single one of them, others have a strong aversion. For me, I liked a few. My attention was held by ‘The Erl-King’ and the story of ‘The Bloody Chamber’ itself was an enjoyable read.
Overall though, I think this one missed the mark for me. It might only be because the prose was so heavy with description that I had trouble concentrating on the stories themselves. Despite this, The Bloody Chamber is one of those books that everyone should read at least once in their life.
(2.5 / 5)
“The problem with family is that they know where all the levers are that make you move. They’re usually the ones who installed the levers in the first place.”
Published in March 2023, T. Kingfisher’s cozy southern gothic horror novel, A House With Good Bones has won many awards, including the 2024 Lucus award for horror and the 2023 Dragon award for horror. The story pulls a quirky and likeable main character back into family drama that she believed was long dead. It asks the reader consider questions about family history, the uselessness of polite society and in a roundabout way, the ethics of science.
The Story.
When Sam Montgomery, an archaeoentomologist (yes, apparently a real job!), finds herself without a roof over her head when her latest dig is put on hold, she returns to her childhood home to stay with her mother in rural North Carolina. It’s a home of unhappy memories. Sam’s grandmother is twenty years dead, although those twenty years are not long enough for Sam. Grama Mae was a tough-love grandmother who was overbearing, often menacing and in possession of an acid tongue. She frequently threatened her grandchildren with the terrifying ‘underground children’ when they misbehaved.
Arriving at the house Sam notices her mother is ‘not quite right’, she begins to worry about early onset dementia. But as the layers begin peeling back we realise that all is not what it seems. Sam’s family holds dark secrets at its roots.
Highlights.
There was so much to love about this book. The story serves up everything a reader expects from a southern gothic horror; perfect southern hospitality, creepy house vibes, family secrets and bizarre flora and fauna.
What I enjoyed most about this book was the way that it turns that overused idea of the rose being a symbol of love and beauty on its head; these are not your mother’s roses. In the acknowledgements T. Kingfisher reveals that she got the idea for the books while tending to her rose bushes, of which she has a love hate relationship.
Also worth mentioning as a highlight is the insect and bird life. From the first scene there are vultures watching the Montgomery home. Also, and unexpectedly very creepy, are swarming ladybugs, who knew lady bugs swarmed?
Another highlight in this story is the main character. Sam is the first to inform readers that she has never fit in in her hometown, and throughout the novel reflects on past incidents to prove her case. However, all of her self-proclaimed faults make her all the more endearing and only prove to be assets as the novel draws to an end.
Drawbacks.
T. Kingfisher’s horror books tend to lean toward the cozy horror genre, and with this comes frequent doses of wry humor and sarcasm. In A House with Good Bones this comedy is mostly delivered via the internal monologue of our main character Sam. Unfortunately, I feel that this more often than not missed its mark, creating moments that were cringy and uncomfortable (and not in a good ‘horror-ey’ way).
Another issue with this story is the attempt at a romance subplot between Sam and her mum’s handyman Phil. There was an attempt at a ‘meet-cute’ at the start of the novel and then repeated misunderstandings between the two that just miss the mark. It just felt too intentional and forced, as if T Kingfisher was set on including some sort of romance whether the plot needed it or not.
Final Take.
Despite having several drawbacks, I really did enjoy A House with Good Bones and actually read it in one sitting. The writing flows easily and the characters are relatable. Anyone who enjoyed T. Kingfisher’s, The Twisted Ones, will love this as well. Readers who make it to the gruesome end may be tickled to find is dedicated to T. Kingfisher’s grandmother “who was actually pretty awesome”.
This one is an easy 4 out of 5
(4 / 5)
A House With Good Bones.
Published in June of this year, Horror Movie is the latest novel by Paul Tremblay. It’s one of several books published in recent years that seems designed specifically for horror genre fans. It’s the sort of story that makes us wonder, how healthy is this fascination? And how emotionally well are the people who create it?
The story
Our story revolves around, well, a horror movie. In the early nineties, a writer named Cleo and a director named Valentina tried to film their horrific creation. It was a movie about a group of friends trying to make a monster, and succeeding. Now, in the new millennium, the movie that was never finished has become a cult sensation and film companies are battling it out to see who can remake it.
The story is told out of order, with flashbacks littered throughout. Sometimes we’re with the Thin Kid in the past, making the original film. Sometimes we’re with him in the years between, going to conventions. Sometimes we’re in the present, as he meets with directors and agents about remaking Horror Movie.
The best part, however, is the pages of script littered throughout the book. This, of course, is the real story. The Horror Movie that no one ever got to see.
That no one will ever get to see.
What works
Horror Movie is literally a novel about people making a horror movie called Horror Movie. I’m not sure how anything gets more meta than that. And I thought that was hilarious.
This was no small part of the joy of this book. We get to read the script for the movie in the same way that the Thin Kid does. We are often put in the POV of a person watching the movie, even though it never really existed as a full movie.
Through one long scene, possibly the longest in the book, we read exceptional notes from the screenplay. There is a scene in the movie in which, well nothing happens for over five minutes. Which is, you know, a lifetime in a movie. It is a moment of anticipation before The Thin Kid sets upon his victim.
To stretch this anticipation out, the script goes on and on about how people will react to this. How people watching Horror Movie in a theater will react differently than the people watching at home. And how the people watching in a group at home will react differently than people watching the movie alone. They go on and on until you realize that Tremblay is doing exactly what Cleo was doing when she wrote the damn script, stretching out that moment of anticipation as long as possible.
And that’s honestly brilliant.
Horror Movie really is about art imitating life, and people getting wrapped up in their creations. Thankfully, most horror creators don’t put people in unsafe conditions or cut off parts of their bodies. But I think we’ve all heard enough stories about how Hitchcock treated his actors to know that some do.
That being said, the juxtaposition of the way the kids in the movie make a monster, and the way that a monster is made in the making of the movie is amazing. It’s so well done, beat by beat, that we don’t even realize what’s going on until it’s too late.
Finally, I want to shine some light on the main character. He certainly seems like a nice, likable guy. He seems like he cares about seeing this Horror Movie come to life because he put so much work into it. Because people that he cared about put so much of themselves into it. He is so kind, so likable, so endearing, that it’s easy to ignore the fact that we don’t even know, and will never know, his real name. He’s just the Thin Kid.
What didn’t work
My only real complaint for Horror Movie is that sometimes the language is a little too poetic. A little too artsy. And this is coming from someone who is also a writer who understands well the joy of a carefully crafted phrase. It isn’t that the phrasing is bad. It’s just that this sort of language feels out of place in a horror novel. Even if it is about a genius director struggling to see a genius writer’s work come to life.
Overall, Horror Movie was a spectacularly fun read. It was dark, disturbing and thrilling. If you haven’t read it yet, do it now. Though I will say, I hope they never make Horror Movie into a movie. That might be just a little too meta.
(5 / 5)
By the way, if you like this you might enjoy my haunted apartment novella, Quiet Apocalypse. The main character is a modern witch, and I share some real magic in this fictional story of an unexpected end of the world.
