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A review by barnesstorming
The Beetle by Richard Marsh
3.0
A strong start -- through the novel's first of four subset books -- gives way to ham-handed manneristic dialog in the later sections. One of the book's two female characters is one of strong will (or, at least as strong as the men in the book), which was refreshing. And there are some effective "haunted house" moments as the book builds to climax.
There are also charming sentences to enjoy here and there. Here's one such bit of dialog:
"It is enough! -- It is the end! -- it it his doom! He shall be ground between the upper and the nether stones in the towers of anguish, and all that is left of him shall be cast on the accursed stream of the bitter waters, to stink under the blood-grimed sun!"
Later, Marsh seems to anticipate detective noir fiction some 40 years early, as the narrator states:
"The weather out of doors was in tune with my frame of mind -- I was in a deuce of a temper, and it was a deuce of a night. A keen northeast wind, warranted to take the skin right off you, was playing catch-who-catch can with intermittent gusts of blinding rain. Since it was not fit for a dog to walk, none of your cabs for me -- nothing would serve but pedestrian exercise."
But mostly the book is a trifle and probably best remembered for its historical significance than anything else.
Opening passage:
"No room! -- Full up!"
He banged the door in my face.
That was the final blow.
Closing passage:
There are also charming sentences to enjoy here and there. Here's one such bit of dialog:
"It is enough! -- It is the end! -- it it his doom! He shall be ground between the upper and the nether stones in the towers of anguish, and all that is left of him shall be cast on the accursed stream of the bitter waters, to stink under the blood-grimed sun!"
Later, Marsh seems to anticipate detective noir fiction some 40 years early, as the narrator states:
"The weather out of doors was in tune with my frame of mind -- I was in a deuce of a temper, and it was a deuce of a night. A keen northeast wind, warranted to take the skin right off you, was playing catch-who-catch can with intermittent gusts of blinding rain. Since it was not fit for a dog to walk, none of your cabs for me -- nothing would serve but pedestrian exercise."
But mostly the book is a trifle and probably best remembered for its historical significance than anything else.
Opening passage:
"No room! -- Full up!"
He banged the door in my face.
That was the final blow.
Closing passage: