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The Throne of Bones
 
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The Throne of Bones (Hardcover)


5.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (1 customer review)

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5.0 out of 5 stars Graveyard feasts, April 28 2002
By Philip Challinor (London England) - See all my reviews
This review is from: The Throne of Bones (Paperback)
The fact that an earlier edition of this book got the World Fantasy Award for best collection of 1998 is one of the horror/fantasy genre's too-few hopeful signs. Brian McNaughton should have come to prominence a quarter of a century ago, when he published horror novels with sonorous, evocative titles like Downward to Darkness, Worse Things Waiting and The House Across The Way. These books were adroit, literate, and populated with unusual but thoroughly believable characters; McNaughton's publishers decided to overcome these handicaps by releasing them with titles like Satan's Mistress, Satan's Seductress, Satan's Secretary etc., and naturally they disappeared without trace. It's a dreary and all too familiar tale, but I mention it here as an optimistic example of the way in which good horror can sometimes rise from the dead. The resurrectionists in this case are Alan Rodgers and Wildside Press, who have brought to light the aforementioned novels as well as three collections, of which The Throne of Bones is the newest-written, the largest and the weirdest. It's also the most unified in place and theme: the place is a luridly macabre fantasy realm, a decadent civilisation of wondrous perversity which clearly borders on the lands of Clark Ashton Smith; and the theme is ghouls. However, although McNaughton shares (and somewhat surpasses) Smith's sense of black humour and has a similar, though less deliberately archaic, richness of style, he also has more interest in plot and none of Smith's occasional lapses into cuteness and obscurity. McNaughton is also admirably rigorous in setting out the details of life as a ghoul - evidently a much less simple business than the mere eating of corpses and the cultivation of malodorous personal habits. For one thing, a ghoul can assume the appearance and some of the personality of the owner of the flesh it eats, which can lead to considerable complexities. For another, McNaughton's ghouls are not only monsters, but characters (it is also fair to say that many of the human beings in his work are not only characters, but monsters), and as such they demand and eminently justify the reader's attention, interest and occasionally - dare I say it? - sympathy. That's one more reason why this is not a book for the faint of heart, the rigid of morals, or the overly scrupulous of stomach.
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