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A review by eerieyore
The One That Got Away: Women of Horror, Volume 3 by Jill Girardi
3.0
Kandisha's whole motivation for publishing this kind of anthology is to put a spotlight on women in horror, which is a fine goal, and worthy of praise. There are a few authors which I may not have encountered, were it not for this volume (and the one that preceded it), and for that I'm very thankful. There are also stories included in here which boggle my mind. The tone of them all ranges from confusingly haphazard and seemingly unfinished to confident, assured and polished.
This is an anthology of thirty stories, all loosely grouped around a central theme of "the one that got away." And when I say loosely, I mean ... very loosely. Some of the stories included only refer to the theme once, or tack it on in a final line, as though the story was previously written and then submitted with a minor adjustment, just to be considered for selection. Some of them require great stretches of imagination to link to the overarching theme. Many of these stories are also very, very long. Two of them in particular are split into numbered sections or headed with "chapter titles," and some of them are well over 5,000 words.
Kandisha Press is doing great things for women in horror, and beyond that, for independent writers, by creating this anthologized showcase, but if you're looking for a selectively edited anthology, this is not it. In essence, this is a potpourri of writing - there's something for everyone, though for some, it may take a bit of mining. There's gore and violence, there's nuanced takes on fractured psychology, there are period pieces, there's erotica, there's sci-fi and dark fantasy... There's also extremely explicit descriptions of sex, in some of the stories, and some of it feels a bit gratuitous.
I'd also like to make mention of the fact that there is a lot of stereotypical masculine behavior in these pages. Perhaps this is backlash for the fact that men have written women stereotypically for nigh-on since the Epic of Gilgamesh, but the proliferation of stereotypes doesn't do anything to help strengthen a story - in fact, it rather weakens it, in my opinion. There are, of course, exceptions, as in some horror movies, where one sets up a group of unlikeable people to die hideous deaths (so that the audience can rejoice in their moral superiority) and one could certainly argue that is the case for some of these stories. But I think it's worth nothing that there is a good amount of male characters who are just cruel bastards for no real reason other than to serve as the object of a supernatural revenge.
I read every story, and the following five are the ones which really stood out to me:
Call of the Tide, by Demi-Louise Blackburn - This seems to be the first one that really seems to consider the overarching theme of “The One That Got Away”… and then subverts it, all in service to a story that is genuinely creepy and soaked in dread. This story is more like a watercolor than it is an acrylic, daubing and washing with both the passage of time and the subject of adultery in nuanced, emotional ways. I felt empathy for both of these characters, and whereas I’m not sure that their fates were entirely earned, the title points us to the reason why: sometimes the call, be it of the tide or the hope of love, is just too strong. The last line is thrilling, and you don’t see any of it coming. Reminded me of a lot of Adam Nevill’s work, especially The Reddening.
Shell, by Barrington Smith-Seetachitt - This story surprised me. The idea, the setup, the characters, all flowed together with a really well-dripped suspense. The dramatic device used towards the end, for the reveal, didn’t work as well as I wanted it to, and I feel like the transition there could have been a bit smoother, but the story itself is enough to carry this through, despite that small hiccup. It caught me in a surprisingly vulnerable place – that eerie zone where nostalgia and be-careful-what-you-wish for intersect. This author is new to me, but I will be looking for more of their work after reading this.
From Scratch, by Sonora Taylor - Sonora’s entry in the last Kandisha anthology, The Clockmaker, was one of the ones that really stayed with me after I finished the volume, so I was excited to get to this story. I was not let down. This story is playful with its language, delighting in using culinary metaphor and analogy to evoke the horrific, and the imagery alone is worth the visit. Tightly written and glazed with mordant humor, the story is set up like a five-course meal – each course is a snapshot of a life lived in the shackles of suppressing an innate (albeit anti-social) appetite. Each morsel is more intense than the one prior – and like the best meal, it leaves you wanting more of its uniquely crafted flavor.
Lure, by Catherine McCarthy - “Lure” is stylized and sophisticated, with lush language and a hinted-at backstory that isn’t dropped on the reader all at once but fed out cannily, rather like…well, the line on a fishing reel. This story is written in the second-person – a divisive styling, but one that I personally love – and also composed largely of fragments, like a constant tremor is underlying the prose. As a result, the reader is subjected to an uncanny sense of instability, as though the ground could give way beneath your feet at any moment. This then does double-duty, as it mimics the erratic thought process of the protagonist, and provides a really clever immersive effect that reminded me a lot of some of Tana French’s writing. The ending felt like it could have been a little more resonant, though – I feel like the reader is given clues to one mystery, but then the story suddenly becomes about another. There’s a piece missing, but I’m not sure where or what it is. Despite this, I thoroughly enjoyed it – especially the descriptions of the surrounding nature, and the way it evolves to mirror the protagonist’s deepening unease.
Kiss, by R.A. Busby - I first discovered this author in the last volume, with her stunningly creepy and remarkably assured story about trypophobia, "Holes." It was easily the strongest story in the entire anthology, standing out far and away from all the rest. "Kiss" shows me that the author is incredibly versatile (and certainly does her research - the period details are phenomenal!) - putting a disturbing story of cosmic horror in a tale-told flashback framing device that feels natural and even heightens the dramatic tension as the story unwinds. It instantly rings the old Edgar Allan Poe bell, flirts with the tone of Hawthorne and Lovecraft, and yet is uniquely its own piece. I'm not being hyperbolic when I say that it literally gave me goosebumps when I finished. There's something, too, about the metaphor of addiction, beneath the cosmic horror, and (perhaps appropriately) I've got a craving to read it again...and anything else Busby's written.
For these five stories alone (and of course, to support an independent press with a hard-working editor), I'd say this anthology is worth reading. With so many to choose from, you may find something within that fits your predilection - and even if you only find one new writer or story that you love, this particular anthology's goal has been accomplished.
This is an anthology of thirty stories, all loosely grouped around a central theme of "the one that got away." And when I say loosely, I mean ... very loosely. Some of the stories included only refer to the theme once, or tack it on in a final line, as though the story was previously written and then submitted with a minor adjustment, just to be considered for selection. Some of them require great stretches of imagination to link to the overarching theme. Many of these stories are also very, very long. Two of them in particular are split into numbered sections or headed with "chapter titles," and some of them are well over 5,000 words.
Kandisha Press is doing great things for women in horror, and beyond that, for independent writers, by creating this anthologized showcase, but if you're looking for a selectively edited anthology, this is not it. In essence, this is a potpourri of writing - there's something for everyone, though for some, it may take a bit of mining. There's gore and violence, there's nuanced takes on fractured psychology, there are period pieces, there's erotica, there's sci-fi and dark fantasy... There's also extremely explicit descriptions of sex, in some of the stories, and some of it feels a bit gratuitous.
I'd also like to make mention of the fact that there is a lot of stereotypical masculine behavior in these pages. Perhaps this is backlash for the fact that men have written women stereotypically for nigh-on since the Epic of Gilgamesh, but the proliferation of stereotypes doesn't do anything to help strengthen a story - in fact, it rather weakens it, in my opinion. There are, of course, exceptions, as in some horror movies, where one sets up a group of unlikeable people to die hideous deaths (so that the audience can rejoice in their moral superiority) and one could certainly argue that is the case for some of these stories. But I think it's worth nothing that there is a good amount of male characters who are just cruel bastards for no real reason other than to serve as the object of a supernatural revenge.
I read every story, and the following five are the ones which really stood out to me:
Call of the Tide, by Demi-Louise Blackburn - This seems to be the first one that really seems to consider the overarching theme of “The One That Got Away”… and then subverts it, all in service to a story that is genuinely creepy and soaked in dread. This story is more like a watercolor than it is an acrylic, daubing and washing with both the passage of time and the subject of adultery in nuanced, emotional ways. I felt empathy for both of these characters, and whereas I’m not sure that their fates were entirely earned, the title points us to the reason why: sometimes the call, be it of the tide or the hope of love, is just too strong. The last line is thrilling, and you don’t see any of it coming. Reminded me of a lot of Adam Nevill’s work, especially The Reddening.
Shell, by Barrington Smith-Seetachitt - This story surprised me. The idea, the setup, the characters, all flowed together with a really well-dripped suspense. The dramatic device used towards the end, for the reveal, didn’t work as well as I wanted it to, and I feel like the transition there could have been a bit smoother, but the story itself is enough to carry this through, despite that small hiccup. It caught me in a surprisingly vulnerable place – that eerie zone where nostalgia and be-careful-what-you-wish for intersect. This author is new to me, but I will be looking for more of their work after reading this.
From Scratch, by Sonora Taylor - Sonora’s entry in the last Kandisha anthology, The Clockmaker, was one of the ones that really stayed with me after I finished the volume, so I was excited to get to this story. I was not let down. This story is playful with its language, delighting in using culinary metaphor and analogy to evoke the horrific, and the imagery alone is worth the visit. Tightly written and glazed with mordant humor, the story is set up like a five-course meal – each course is a snapshot of a life lived in the shackles of suppressing an innate (albeit anti-social) appetite. Each morsel is more intense than the one prior – and like the best meal, it leaves you wanting more of its uniquely crafted flavor.
Lure, by Catherine McCarthy - “Lure” is stylized and sophisticated, with lush language and a hinted-at backstory that isn’t dropped on the reader all at once but fed out cannily, rather like…well, the line on a fishing reel. This story is written in the second-person – a divisive styling, but one that I personally love – and also composed largely of fragments, like a constant tremor is underlying the prose. As a result, the reader is subjected to an uncanny sense of instability, as though the ground could give way beneath your feet at any moment. This then does double-duty, as it mimics the erratic thought process of the protagonist, and provides a really clever immersive effect that reminded me a lot of some of Tana French’s writing. The ending felt like it could have been a little more resonant, though – I feel like the reader is given clues to one mystery, but then the story suddenly becomes about another. There’s a piece missing, but I’m not sure where or what it is. Despite this, I thoroughly enjoyed it – especially the descriptions of the surrounding nature, and the way it evolves to mirror the protagonist’s deepening unease.
Kiss, by R.A. Busby - I first discovered this author in the last volume, with her stunningly creepy and remarkably assured story about trypophobia, "Holes." It was easily the strongest story in the entire anthology, standing out far and away from all the rest. "Kiss" shows me that the author is incredibly versatile (and certainly does her research - the period details are phenomenal!) - putting a disturbing story of cosmic horror in a tale-told flashback framing device that feels natural and even heightens the dramatic tension as the story unwinds. It instantly rings the old Edgar Allan Poe bell, flirts with the tone of Hawthorne and Lovecraft, and yet is uniquely its own piece. I'm not being hyperbolic when I say that it literally gave me goosebumps when I finished. There's something, too, about the metaphor of addiction, beneath the cosmic horror, and (perhaps appropriately) I've got a craving to read it again...and anything else Busby's written.
For these five stories alone (and of course, to support an independent press with a hard-working editor), I'd say this anthology is worth reading. With so many to choose from, you may find something within that fits your predilection - and even if you only find one new writer or story that you love, this particular anthology's goal has been accomplished.