Book Review: Human Tenderloin by Craig Wallwork

I think I'm going to experiment with adding my book reviews to this space for the one person who comes here.

                                             

Craig Wallwork’s Human Tenderloin is a collection of 16 short stories.

The opening track is ‘Bird Girl,’ a bit of a body horror/grotesquerie playing over the background of an apocalypse. Bird Girl’s outer world is grim and dark but its inner life contains warm, bright notes of hope. Like a lot of Human Tenderloin, it’s ultimately a story of Love - in this case, parental Love.

I really appreciated that facet of these stories.

Love - Capital L Love.

There are plenty of horrors out there, and none I’ve read have trod so steadily the narrow path of real, loving notes that don’t stray into greeting card sentimentality.

***Editorial sidebar: Too much of my reading (and viewing) in the last year has featured remorseless horrors that sell humanity short in exchange for brutal & shocking violence or rely on a cheap supposition to prop up shoddy approximations of better stories.***

The second entry in Human Tenderloin is ‘Dollhouse’ - a creepy little cursed object story, pressed into its musty surroundings like a footprint in a swamp. The dread slowly pools like water leeching up through the earth. Odds are, you’ll see the end coming - as you will with other stories here - but it doesn’t lessen the effect.

Similarly, the title track, ‘Human Tenderloin’ has a hazily visible climax that doesn’t tarnish the tale in the least, as it relies on its own bizarre circumstances and almost slapstick level humor to carry it through a tale largely about sourcing long pork for butchering and eating among a close-knit group of ghoulish gourmands.

My favorite entry in Human Tenderloin is ‘Paradise Won.’ ‘Paradise Won’ is an almost funny meditation on love and loss, repentance and forgiveness from the perspective of a widower renting a cabin from the devil. I won’t say more than that because, even though ‘Paradise Won’ does nothing to hide its cards, it manages to be surprising and moving nonetheless.

There are some truly bizarre mindbender horrors in here as well. Most notably: ‘The Hole’ ‘Time’s Flies’ ‘Murder Song’ and ‘They Were Born Without Faces’

‘Nothing Short of Dying’ is brutal, bizarre, downright gross, perhaps - and yet, it is a love story. And that is what elevates this and so many other stories in Human Tenderloin beyond being beautifully written oddities.

If there’s a low note here, it’s the hidden track, ‘The Ballad of Windsong House’ - a longer tale than the rest whose introduction is a bit laborious but serves its own payoff well. It has the feel of a bloated short story or perhaps a truncated novella. In the end, ‘Windsong’ circles back around to the connective tissue that holds the entire collection together, Love. Capital L Love.

I’ve been truly disenchanted by a lot of my reading of late, feeling that storytelling had become a contest of grim ideas and horrible suffering visited upon rooms stuffed with poor approximations of humanity. Human Tenderloin is populated by people that feel real, often sympathetic - at the very least understandable - even in the most horrific and strange of circumstances.

My only complaint about human Tenderloin is also one of its greatest strengths. The language is consistently beautiful and inventive. It always feels fresh and lush and filled with the Love that suffuses the entire collection. For me, it felt at times just the thinnest layer too thick, which is really hardly any complaint at all.

TLDR: Horror built on a solid foundation of Love, weirdness, and prose sharp enough to carve a steak from your leg. The collection I’ve read that shares the most DNA with Human Tenderloin is Joe Hill’s Full throttle - one of my all-time favorite collections.

By Way of Reintroduction

 SOo ...

Its been what? Three years since I dropped by here? 

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Why, you may ask, has it been so long?

Simple: I grew disenchanted and depressed by my work as a writer. I joined a writer's workshop in hopes that I would be able to hone my novel, Darkle, into something that might catch an agent's eye and thus find a place that would print it on paper for all to read. The workshop was populated with know-it-all do-nothings. A dozen people would arrive every Saturday morning, with no writing of their own, ready to give everything they laid eyes on the Simon Cowell treatment. 

The organizer/de facto leader of the group seemed to have founded it specifically to acquire captive readers for his pedophilic, rapey, misogynistic techno-porno, pseudo-enlightened opus. He claimed it existed in multiple, multi-thousand page volumes that have been in continual revision for twenty years. 

His inability to write, coupled with a strong desire to crush other writer's dreams caused the group to violently dissolve before a year passed. 

Nobody in the group was a reader of horror, thus nobody in the group really had a coherent perspective on my book. I received personal criticism of my character's choices, which only illuminated the fact that these people were not qualified commenters. I was even asked to take over the group after the drawing and quartering of the 5000 page wet dream. 

I said no and promptly quit writing, despairing of the process and the future of the craft itself as the more I read the more I felt like my entertainment had taken a back seat to intellectual posing and making cute references to pop bullshit.

**I've read two award-winning books this year and both bored the crap out of me. Whatever was happening is only getting worse. 

I could go on. 

I won't.

If you've made it this far, you know a little about why I walked away. Now, why'm I back? 

I was happy not writing for a long time. Not trying to squeeze a page or a paragraph in between all of life's obligations took some stress off, added some time for sleep, exercise, reading, meditation.

Then I wanted to write again - so I did. In months, I nearly doubled my lifetime output. I began submitting again and promptly sold Island Retreat to Dream of Shadows Issue 3. That was January. I have received dozens of personal rejections from dozens of very kind editors since then, but I remain frustrated in my attempt to really break into the world of paid publishing. The more I read, the more I realize I need to find the right people. I suspect the group is small. I'm certain they're you're out there. 

Find me.

Also, recently, I've made some efforts to revive my voiceover career. Part of that has been the fulfillment of a longstanding dream: Narrating fiction. You can check out some of my work at the very cool Horror Oasis. I hooked up with the oasis because I like their mission to ensure all voices are heard and because I thought I could add value with my voice skills. I'm stoked about it and hopeful this project keeps growing. 

I'm still writing. I've accepted that I'll never sell much, but I keep trying. As of this writing, I have 10 weirdos out, trying to make their way in the world. knock wood and cross fingers for me, willya?

Til next time,

@nicktionary19

Why is everyone down on The Dark Tower?

I've been pondering this for over a month now.
Why is everyone down on The Dark Tower movie?
Everyone should be down with The Dark Tower.
Did it deserve multiple 3-hour installments?
Yes.
Did it get them?
No.
Was 90 minutes too short?
Yes.
Am I tired of Universe-In-Peril stories?
Very.
Does this necessarily make it bad?
No.
My wife won a couple tickets to the movies. We spent them on The Dark Tower, even (especially) after hearing how bad it was from every critic and fanboy and Johnny-come-lately. I went because I love the Dark Tower Mythology. I expected a bad movie. Maybe if I didn't have the background knowledge from the gazillion pages of the books, I would have felt a bit lost. Don't think so but not sure on that one.
Did I get a bad movie?
No.
Did I get a great movie?
Hmmmm . . . .
Of course I suffered little disappointments that all gazillion and one pages weren't condensed and represented on the screen. But, really, that's about it. And compared to how much I disliked darlings like Inglorious Basterds and The Avengers, not to mention Batman Begins and bloated tripe like The Dark Knight Rises, The Dark Tower was not only not bad it was actually great. Not a great adaptation, but great entertainment.
I just sat back, stuffed my face with popcorn and thoroughly enjoyed seeing a few bits and pieces of my favorite series of books splashed across the screen. Good CGI. Great in-jokes for King fans. Idris Elba made a fine Roland. Matthew McConaughey looked a bit too mannequin-ish for my tastes but was calm and threatening in a way that I enjoyed. Top notch casting and performances all around. Seems a shame we're not likely to get this group together again.
The fuckin' low men? Nice little touch there.
The gunplay was top notch, even in a world inundated with topnotch gunplay (I'm looking at you again, John Wick).
but at an hour and a half, there just isn't enough of it.
of anything.
Still . . . .
I had fun. I saw a couple of my old friends for the first time in years.

Maybe I'll revisit their novels soon and hope that Netflix or HBO or Hulu gets ahold of The Dark Tower and does right by it with several well-produced seasons of Television.
I hope the movie (which doubled its tiny budget) inspires a new audience to read its source material and spawns the adaptations it deserves.
Do I want more?
Yes.
Am I happy with what I got?
Yes. Yes I am.

Dark Tower Addendum - I am losing hope (a rant).

I am losing hope for the Dark Tower movie. Another release date pushback was announced today. I guess September is the target now? I hope it's just a couple of digital wizards out with 'unrelated' cases of mono.

Never a good sign.

Never.

And I found this news after engaging in an idiotic argument (via Facebook comments) with someone who was complaining about the movie.

First, they complained that the seven book series was going to be mashed into one film and remove Susannah and Eddie - two excellent characters. That is not the point I meant to argue. I just wanted to weigh in on a topic we all seemingly shared interest in. So I noted that it was a continuation of the series, not an adaptation. Then this person kinda snarkily jabs back at me about where I imagine the content might be coming from, if not the book.

I reiterate my point. With mild, Kraft singles-level snark.

This person then comes back complaining, among other things, that the only female and minority character in the books has been removed.

Against my better judgement, I choose to reply. No good comes of engaging narrow-minded crusaders on the internet.

I say, but now Roland is a POC. And the characters you were just complaining about being skipped come later in the narrative in the event the narrative is successful enough to warrant continuation. I also chose, unwisely, to impugn Eddie's honor by mentioning he is a junkie.

I was mad so I went ad hominem on Eddie. Eddie of all people. I love Eddie. And I know a few real life junkies. Only one of them was actually a bad person. I wasn't even speaking my own beliefs.

Oh well.

I was treated to the point that in the novel, Roland is white, thus does not count as POC.

I disagree. It is a brilliant, ballsy move to put Idris Elba in Roland's shoes. And I posit that even if the character of Roland suffers or perceives no racism in the film, that does not make him white - nor does it protect him from the perceptions of the viewing audience.

As I understand it, the movie is meant to be a stand alone piece, but will leave room for further storytelling in the event it is profitable enough. It's all very hush-hush so who the hell knows?

I'm just so pissed that I had this idiotic conversation with someone who just keeps shifting the target to warrant further complaints. And then to turn it into another one of these complaints about Hollywood not being faithful to source material?

Please. Never Happens. Anybody fan can tell Peter Jackson did a fine job with LOTR. Any reader can tell you he missed a few points - some of them boring and not worth the file space. Some were things people liked. Jurassic Park: I like this movie still. The effects haven't aged too poorly. Also - not like the book. Both good. That's just how it is. sometimes you get a good movie out of a mediocre book. Fight Club, anyone?

How about let's complain that Hollywood is so white, when they've cast a black man in the role of a very white character? Then say that doesn't count cuz it's not how he's written? Complain that the movie will condense seven novels into one film and then, when confronted with the likely fact that it is not all seven, complain that the minority characters won't be there, even though they wouldn't be until later?

It's all so very annoying.

If you've read the entire Dark Tower series, you know how it ends. And if you know that, you know how a continuation makes as much, if not more sense than an adaptation. And how questions of continuity are moot. AND how KA IS A WHEEL, goddammit!!

And to top it all off, after trying to defend obviously uninformed complaints with information that I have - and that I admit is likely imperfect - I find out that the movie itself has betrayed me and will delay itself another few months.

In closing, to my junkie friends: I am sorry. I have tangentially impugned your honor as well as Eddie's. You deserve better in my hands.

Complete series. Three are first editions - one is signed by the artist.
One second edition, one third edition, three trade editions.
Also, please take note of the inclusion of Charlie the Choo-Choo.
For those who think I don't take this seriously because I am ok with modifications to the canon (except Han Shot First).
I call this the shelf of honor.
I hope to see Eddie, Susannah, and Oy on the big screen someday.
If I don't, I'm not going to get all bent out of shape.
Of course if I drop $30 to see a shitshow, I'll be briefly cheesed. 

Logan Review

When you play Go Fish, you ask for a card. If your opponent doesn't have it, you have to 'go fish,' pulling a card from the deck. When I was a kid, there was always a certain excessive joy that accompanied drawing the card I asked for when I went fish. I would hold it up for all to see, proving my amazing luck, grinning like the fool that I now know myself to be. Then without trying to seem too prideful, I'd pair the jack of clubs with his diamond adorned brother and set them neatly next to my other collected trophies.

This is, near as I can figure, how I feel about James Mangold's Logan, rated R, 137 minutes.

I, like many of you, have seen more than my fair share of superhero movies in the last ... what? Twenty years? That sounds right. Two decades of CGI wizardry and phenomenal cosmic powers. There have been some excellent entries in the genre over that span of time. Just beneath the X-Men umbrella, X-Men, X2, and Days of Future Past were terrific flicks. That still leaves five movies - over half the current cannon - that were real clankers.

The Michael Keaton/Tim Burton Batmen were a breath of fresh air: strange and dark and visually new. I'm of the opinion that all of the caped crusaders since have sucked. Hard. Heath Ledger was an amazing Joker but that does not redeem the thoroughly shitty and incomprehensible Dark Knight trilogy.

I have seen a variety of swirling CGI menaces bent on the destruction of all life, or all human life, or all mutant life for various vague and terrifying reasons too many times. The first time I saw the realistic depiction of an entire city being leveled, I was amazed and mortified. But now that is the centerpiece to every movie. The Avengers, Fantastic Four, Ninja Turtles, Superman, Suicide Squad, X-Men, and - to a lesser extent - Batman. Did I miss anyone? Probably.

Q: How many times can THE ENTIRE RACE/PLANET/UNIVERSE face down imminent destruction?

A: Every. Fucking. Time.

Congratulations! You've made the killing of a half million people boring and cliche.

What Logan does that has been conspicuously absent from all these movies is it tells a human story. A story of small consequences; individual needs, fears, and desires. It is violent and profane and real. The movie leans heavily on the performances of Hugh Jackman, the always excellent Sir Patrick Stewart and newcomer Dafne Keene who perfectly fills the role of Logan's violent, confused, and lonely progeny.

In Logan, the stakes are not so very high. There is one life on the line and it is not an important one. Not important in the sense that the sun will go out if she is caught and killed, anyway. We have our heroes: Logan and Professor X, both dying.

Professor X seems to be suffering from dementia, which has turned his supermind into an unpredictable and dangerous weapon. The effects of his illness give us the best action set piece - not featuring Keanu Reeves - that I can recall. I'm not forgetting Quicksilver's antics in the kitchen.

In this movie, The Wolverine doesn't quite heal, needs reading glasses, and is reduced to driving a limo to save money for a boat to escape in. Logan's muscle tone is gone. His moobies jiggle when he runs. He's never not drunk.

There is a nice sidebar to the story, which works the comic books in as exaggerated and sanitized stories of the exploits a now extinct race of mutants. Logan is not sanitized - nor should it be. Another part of the power of the storytelling is that it neither ignores nor revels in its violence. It doesn't flinch from the violence and the price of it. There are no bloodless stabbings here. No dark bullet holes quickly healed. There are bloody amputations and violent murders. There is torture. There is regret. And when the innocent die here, we are made to look at them.

What there isn't is a good guy. Logan is no good guy. He's Han Solo, when Han Shot First. There are bad guys, but killing bad guys doesn't make you a good guy, does it?

Logan is imperfect, much like its characters. And similarly endearing. It takes its time telling its story, like many excellent films, and is rewarding and surprising while eschewing the BIG TWIST for somewhat familiar and predictable territory - if you think outside the superhero box.

Like pulling the jack of clubs, I got exactly what I wanted and I was unreasonably happy about it. This is easily a 3.5 star movie on a 4 star scale. 5 out of 4 on the superhero scale.