Sub Rosa - Eight tales by Robert Aickman, acknowledged as one of the finest British authors of ghost stories or what he himself termed “strange stories.” As R. There are parties, a little boy with a gift, houses with memories of slaughters that took place far away. My favorite was easily "The Houses of the Russians" in which an old man recounts his strange trip to an island full of increasingly discomfiting houses, at first apparently empty but soon seen to be inhabited. "Into the Wood" - pity the lonely fates of the sleepless, woken from the slumber of life. "The Cicerones" - no one is lonely in the Cathedral there are many guides to keep you company ) "No Stronger Than a Flower" - better to be lonely and plain than married and beautiful. "The Houses of the Russians" - on the lonely Finnish island are the empty houses, full of blood :X "The Unsettled Dust" - a lonely mansion is full of unsettling dust and dusty dreams and secrets best left in the dust :| "Never Visit Venice" - lonely men should never try to make their dreams come true :( "The Inner Room" - don't pity the dollhouse's lonely tenants: they have a secret place where they can truly be themselves :) "Ravissante" - a lonely artist is at first dismayed, then turned on, then dismayed again by a vulgar display :/ And for oddity, of course, one would well write mystery. The sheer oddity of life seems to me of more and more importance, because more and more the pretense is that life is charted, predictable, and controllable. all in place, per usual for the author, my favorite writer in this genre. The dream logic, the disturbing ambiguity, the prosaic details, the chilly formality, the awful revelations, softly stated. Not one of my favorites by him, but impressive nonetheless. 'Tis Robert Aickman season!Ī collection of strange stories. 'Tis the season for dreams to come true, alas. 'Tis the season for cold woods to get lost in, for sad memories to get lost in, for watery graves and tragic houses, for secrets to be unveiled. The dream logic, the disturbing ambiguity, the prosaic details, the chilly formality, the 'Tis the season for lonely men to grow lonelier, for lonely women to lie sleepless in their beds.
'Tis Robert Aickman season! A collection of strange stories.
'Tis the season for lonely men to grow lonelier, for lonely women to lie sleepless in their beds.
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