Sewn signatures, printed on 130gsm acid-free paper, and bound by Bath Press in red wibalin cloth stamped in gold, with silk ribbon marker and head and tailbands. Introduction by Brian Stableford. 300 copies.
A contemporary of Oscar Wilde, Arthur Machen and Count Stenbock, Matthew Phipps Shiel could surpass any of them in the sheer Decadent luxuriance of his writing. Originally collected in 1911, the ten stories of The Pale Ape and Other Pulses date from the mid 1890s into the first decade of the twentieth century, providing a fascinating cross-section of Shiel's evolving literary work in a rapidly changing cultural climate.
'Pulses' have been defined as 'a stroke; an impact; also an attack'. Shiel's mastery of this subversive technique, one of the hallmarks of the conte cruel, is amply demonstrated in 'Huguenin's Wife' and 'The Spectre-Ship', tales of relentlessly-unfolding doom, while 'The House of Sounds' (an updated version of 'Vaila' from Shapes in the Fire, 1896), and 'The Great King' are triumphantly Poesque explorations of morbid decay. 'Cummings King Monk' is Shiel's equally subversive take on the crime story genre, while 'Bundle of Letters' and 'The Bride' are warped romances hinging on confused identities and dramatic transformations of personality. The title story, 'The Pale Ape', is a ghost story with a tragic denouement set in an English country house, and also a magnificently atmospheric adventure of confused identity and abnormal psychology.
Acknowledged authority on the Decadent movement, Brian Stableford provides a new Introduction to this first republication of M.P. Shiel's The Pale Ape, which will enhance the reputation of one of the most original exponents of fin de siècle Decadence.
Contents: 'Introduction', ' The Pale Ape', 'The Case of Euphemia Raphash', 'Cummings King Monk', 'A Bundle of Letters','Huguenin's Wife', 'Many a Tear', 'The House of Sounds', 'The Spectre-Ship', 'The Great King', 'The Bride'.
Matthew Phipps Shiel was a prolific British writer of West Indian descent. His legal surname remained "Shiell" though he adopted the shorter version as a de facto pen name.
He is remembered mostly for supernatural and scientific romances. His work was published as serials, novels, and as short stories. The Purple Cloud (1901; 1929) remains his most famous and often reprinted novel.
Today I finished reading the Tartarus Press edition of M.P. Shiel's THE PALE APE AND OTHER PULSES, thus making this the second Shiel book I've read this month alone (the first being THE PURPLE CLOUD). Like that latter book, this collection had very good moments spread out over long stretches of abject tedium. I did enjoy the title story, and the Poesque "The House of Sounds," and "The Spectre-Ship" should appeal to SKYRIM fans. But some of the other stories I found pretty forgettable, and some just dragged on and on, the worst offender in this regard being "Cummings King Monk," a 73 page story divided into 3 shorter tales. The middle tale was by far the most torturous. In it, the titular amateur detective makes a passing remark about how he considers the recently deceased Cardinal Newman to have been a savage. When the narrator (Shiel himself) protests, Monk asks him to define what the word "savage" means. Shiel turns to the dictionary, but Monk finds that definition inadequate. So the men then spend the next 40 pages (!) trying to come up with a more fitting definition for the word. On the one hand, I like that there was once a point in time where one's entertainment options were so limited that publishers had no qualms about printing such dry material to the public, but on the other hand, I almost wish that the narrator had just let Monk's original comment pass... even more bizarre is that the tale right after that one is a fast-paced & action-packed story involving Monk battling a serial killer/human vivisectionist in a decaying mansion, which created a sense of cognitive whiplash in this reader.
Still, Shiel has such a bizarre way of describing things that I continually kept plowing on. Like how he mentions that a girl was "badly bitten with the rabies of love." Or when he likens nightfall to "the raven draperies of night" (very Goth, that). Or how a character has a "mustache like a negro's dream" (I'm not even sure what that means: I assume a black mustache, I guess?). Or (my favorite) this gem: "...and with the eyeballs of the striped hyena of Shinar shining in his head." I find one thing that made the book more enjoyable during its slow moments was imagining that it was being narrated by John O'Hurley's J. Peterman character from SEINFELD: one can easily hear his voice especially in this line from "Huguenin's Wife," where Shiel describes a man "...becoming a bond-slave to the drowsy ganja of Hindustan." And oh, to reflect back on those halcyon days of the past, where the sentence "I should go and have some false teeth put in first if I were you" is an example of "the rock-bed of vulgarity."
I suppose I'll need to get to PRINCE ZALESKI at some point, if only because, in Brian Stableford's introduction to this book, he remarks how Zaleski is Poe's Dupin taken to "decadent extremes of which even Jean Des Esseintes only dreamed," which naturally has roused my curiosity.