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Children of the Night
'John Blackburn is today's master of horror, and this latest novel, about a village gripped by the culmination of ancient vileness, induces proper shivers.' - Times Literary Supplement'He is certainly the best British novelist in his field and deserves the widest recognition.' - Penguin Encyclopedia of Horror and the Supernatural'[A] stylish, genuinely chilling author . . . undoubtedly one of England's best practicing novelists in the tradition of the thriller novel.' - St. James Guide to Crime & Mystery WritersFor centuries, the small English village of Dunstonholme has been the scene of mysterious tragedies. Local lore traces these strange events back to the year 1300, when a sect of Christian heretics known as the Children of Paul were involved in a bloody massacre. Since that time, there have been railway disasters, mining accidents, shipwrecks, and other terrible happenings. Now a wave of suspicious deaths has the locals on edge and looking for explanations. Dr. Tom Allen and adventurer J. Moldon Mott think they know what is behind the an ancient evil, dating back seven hundred years, lies hidden underground . . . and it is preparing to emerge to the surface . . .John Blackburn (1923-1993), the author of twenty-eight bestselling thrillers, has been hailed by The Times Literary Supplement as 'today's master of horror.' In his classic Children of the Night (1966), reprinted here for the first time in 40 years, Blackburn updates medieval legends and folklore to create a bone-chilling tale of modern-day horror that is among his very best.
160 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1966
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279 people want to read
About the author
John Blackburn
35 books35 followersJohn Blackburn was born in 1923 in the village of Corbridge, England, the second son of a clergyman. Blackburn attended Haileybury College near London beginning in 1937, but his education was interrupted by the onset of World War II; the shadow of the war, and that of Nazi Germany, would later play a role in many of his works. He served as a radio officer during the war in the Mercantile Marine from 1942 to 1945, and resumed his education afterwards at Durham University, earning his bachelor’s degree in 1949. Blackburn taught for several years after that, first in London and then in Berlin, and married Joan Mary Clift in 1950. Returning to London in 1952, he took over the management of Red Lion Books.
It was there that Blackburn began writing, and the immediate success in 1958 of his first novel, A Scent of New-Mown Hay, led him to take up a career as a writer full time. He and his wife also maintained an antiquarian bookstore, a secondary career that would inform some of Blackburn’s work, including the bibliomystery Blue Octavo (1963). A Scent of New-Mown Hay typified the approach that would come to characterize Blackburn’s twenty-eight novels, which defied easy categorization in their unique and compelling mixture of the genres of science fiction, horror, mystery, and thriller. Many of Blackburn’s best novels came in the late 1960s and early 1970s, with a string of successes that included the classics A Ring of Roses (1965), Children of the Night (1966), Nothing but the Night (1968; adapted for a 1973 film starring Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing), Devil Daddy (1972) and Our Lady of Pain (1974). Somewhat unusually for a popular horror writer, Blackburn’s novels were not only successful with the reading public but also won widespread critical acclaim: the Times Literary Supplement declared him ‘today’s master of horror’ and compared him with the Grimm Brothers, while the Penguin Encyclopedia of Horror and the Supernatural regarded him as ‘certainly the best British novelist in his field’ and the St James Guide to Crime & Mystery Writers called him ‘one of England’s best practicing novelists in the tradition of the thriller novel’.
By the time Blackburn published his final novel in 1985, much of his work was already out of print, an inexplicable neglect that continued until Valancourt began republishing his novels in 2013. John Blackburn died in 1993.
It was there that Blackburn began writing, and the immediate success in 1958 of his first novel, A Scent of New-Mown Hay, led him to take up a career as a writer full time. He and his wife also maintained an antiquarian bookstore, a secondary career that would inform some of Blackburn’s work, including the bibliomystery Blue Octavo (1963). A Scent of New-Mown Hay typified the approach that would come to characterize Blackburn’s twenty-eight novels, which defied easy categorization in their unique and compelling mixture of the genres of science fiction, horror, mystery, and thriller. Many of Blackburn’s best novels came in the late 1960s and early 1970s, with a string of successes that included the classics A Ring of Roses (1965), Children of the Night (1966), Nothing but the Night (1968; adapted for a 1973 film starring Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing), Devil Daddy (1972) and Our Lady of Pain (1974). Somewhat unusually for a popular horror writer, Blackburn’s novels were not only successful with the reading public but also won widespread critical acclaim: the Times Literary Supplement declared him ‘today’s master of horror’ and compared him with the Grimm Brothers, while the Penguin Encyclopedia of Horror and the Supernatural regarded him as ‘certainly the best British novelist in his field’ and the St James Guide to Crime & Mystery Writers called him ‘one of England’s best practicing novelists in the tradition of the thriller novel’.
By the time Blackburn published his final novel in 1985, much of his work was already out of print, an inexplicable neglect that continued until Valancourt began republishing his novels in 2013. John Blackburn died in 1993.
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September 7, 2018This is the first American Hardcover Edition of the book which was originally published in 1966 in the U.K. by Chatto & Windus.
Dust jacket art by William Teason.
Dust jacket art by William Teason.
Want to read
January 29, 2018This hardcover is numbered copy 40 of 200 produced and is signed by:
John Blackburn (Family-approved facsimile signature)
Brian Evenson (Introduction)
Gahan Wilson (art)
Bonus short story, “Drink to Me Only.”
John Blackburn (Family-approved facsimile signature)
Brian Evenson (Introduction)
Gahan Wilson (art)
Bonus short story, “Drink to Me Only.”
July 26, 2019
3.5 en realidad.
Un pueblo en la campiña inglesa, tragedias sangrientas e inexplicables que parecen estar relacionado con una secta ocultista de la Edad Media... ¡Este libro no podía prometer más! La historia es buena y logra enganchar, sin embargo, se siente muy apresurado. Hay unos brincos en la trama que, para mí gusto, pudieron haber sido mucho más sutiles y graduales. En corto, le falta tensión y saber generar ambiente para que cuando llegues al desenlace final, de verdad estés muriendo de estrés y pánico.
A pesar de todo, me pareció una historia buena, que me hizo pensar en películas de folk horror setenteras, por lo que creo que vale la pena darle una oportunidad.
Un pueblo en la campiña inglesa, tragedias sangrientas e inexplicables que parecen estar relacionado con una secta ocultista de la Edad Media... ¡Este libro no podía prometer más! La historia es buena y logra enganchar, sin embargo, se siente muy apresurado. Hay unos brincos en la trama que, para mí gusto, pudieron haber sido mucho más sutiles y graduales. En corto, le falta tensión y saber generar ambiente para que cuando llegues al desenlace final, de verdad estés muriendo de estrés y pánico.
A pesar de todo, me pareció una historia buena, que me hizo pensar en películas de folk horror setenteras, por lo que creo que vale la pena darle una oportunidad.
November 18, 2022
John Blackburn's tenth novel and first of his great horror-thrillers.
Dunstanholme on the North East English coast, an idyllic region hosting rural locals with relaxing and retired urban classes, has a long and peculiar history of mysterious outbreaks of homicidal mania...
When the crew of a salvage vessel go berserk and collide their craft with a coastal tanker and elderly cantankerous Col. Hector Keith is sent rolling to his death, followed by farmer Jessop gored by his bull and local vicar Rev. David Ainger - who had fantastic and horrible suspicions - is found dead in the vast cave system beneath the area: events point to a hellish power and a hideous survival...that is about to rise.
It's up to Dr. Tom Allen, his wife Mary and the egotistical author-adventurer J. Moldon Mott to combat this infernal force. But their efforts are quickly frustrated by the hyper-progressive, and even more egotistical, Bishop Russell Fenge who believes there is no true evil and that Christian love will conquer. Though he and his flock will learn otherwise in one of Blackburn's most violent and grisly climaxes.
Dunstanholme on the North East English coast, an idyllic region hosting rural locals with relaxing and retired urban classes, has a long and peculiar history of mysterious outbreaks of homicidal mania...
When the crew of a salvage vessel go berserk and collide their craft with a coastal tanker and elderly cantankerous Col. Hector Keith is sent rolling to his death, followed by farmer Jessop gored by his bull and local vicar Rev. David Ainger - who had fantastic and horrible suspicions - is found dead in the vast cave system beneath the area: events point to a hellish power and a hideous survival...that is about to rise.
It's up to Dr. Tom Allen, his wife Mary and the egotistical author-adventurer J. Moldon Mott to combat this infernal force. But their efforts are quickly frustrated by the hyper-progressive, and even more egotistical, Bishop Russell Fenge who believes there is no true evil and that Christian love will conquer. Though he and his flock will learn otherwise in one of Blackburn's most violent and grisly climaxes.
February 12, 2018
There is something about trying to sit down and review this novel that brings to mind the days I used to write pipe tobacco reviews (I mean, I still do...sort of...but I used to, as well...*):
John Blackburn's Children of the Night. Upon cracking open the tin I get a definite note of John Wyndam's 1950s novels, a bit of seaspray with a hint of bright. Packs easy. Lights easy, though maybe requires a tamp or two to get really going. Char light optional, but might help matters along. Once well lit, burns largely smooth and relaxed. A decent but middling taste at first it builds up through the mid-bowl to something of a delight. I get bits of raisin, a bit of oak. There is some Perique here. A bit of a Dennis Wheatley topping but it's not too cloying. Definitely handles it better than others have done. Roomnote has touches of sexism and an afterthought of racism, a few digs at liberals, but combines in a dash of self-deprecation to try and even it out. Burns a bit hot here or there, other times it's a bit stodgy, sometimes has a strange love of rebellious youth, and leaves some dottle at the end, but all in all, not a bad sometime smoke that has mostly cellared well for those looking for an older blend. Also recommended for those who enjoy a [Saint] James** Herbert Flake and would like to see an earlier alternative.
Starting out with a [doomed] salvage vessel and then drifting over to a [doomed] asshole who is perfectly fine with [figuratively, perhaps literally, I don't know what he does his spare time] biting the hand that feeds him, the book takes only a short bit to get properly into its deepest and truest asset: a playful and sometimes self-deprecating British conservatism that fist-bumps Edwardian ideals while channeling *that* uncle at your last family reunion.
Let us take a look at our duo of heroes, eh? You have explorer, author, pompous ass, and surprisingly skillful library researcher Moldon Mott; *and* cigarette-smoking doctor and substitute-scientific-expert-cum-man-of-action Dr. Tom Allen. They are partly aided by the research of spelunking Anglican Priest and hobbyist in the supernatural and sciences Father Aingler. I mean...are we sure John Blackburn isn't a time traveler who played the Call of Cthulhu RPG before getting trapped in the past?
Our duo (sort of trio if you include Tom's wife, though Blackburn only barely did) begin to investigate the strange cases that have plagued Dunstonholme for at least the past sixish centuries. A religious sect went cray on some poor villagers and then drowned. Dude got sheep trampled. Some railroad builders got spooked. Salvage ship smashes into another sheep. Some guys on motorbikes just pell-mell into a wall. Aingler, and Mott, are convinced there is an underlying reason with Mott following through Aingler's notes.
And, boy, there is a reason. Yessirree. Not gonna spoil it, but hike up your britches and get ready to hike tall all the way to yeppers land. I mean, it fails in pretty much every scientific, sociological, and literary way but hot DAMN is it a fun one.
Also, there is a place called Pounder's Hole so laugh it up, Chuckles.
I liked it. Maybe a lot. I mean, I think this is one of those books whose sort of quaint "popular genre fiction from another time" nature actually makes it more fun to read now than it would have been back then, when digs at the new liberal church might have been honestly topical instead of some strange precursor to the Merrily Watkins novels. The avuncular love of rowdy youth, the Hemingway-lite drinking discussions, the bevy of washed up war heroes and potbellied good guys. It's delightful. And if you are in the right mindset, this book will pour into your eye-holes with ease and you find yourself not quite minding the fact that the climatic ending is barely there (even though there are a couple of good short atrocities thrown in for good measure) or that the heroes are only ever slightly in danger and somehow magically avoid a lot of fallout at the end. Hell, you might even feel good about how un-depraved the book is (and if you want depravity, well, Space Pilgrim, just use your imagination...there are hints!). This is a fair book but it read like a good one.
There are a few little stylistic touches I did honestly enjoy. Blackburn likes to have dialogue to collect over a few paragraphs of long winds and then sort of die down in a short peep of a half line. Excerpts of old documents quoted tend to hint at the background instead of being particularly damning. It overdescribes a few things or uses a sparse spice of technical language here or there and then completely underdescribes others. With the exception of a certain [doomed] asshole, most internal-POV characters critique themselves humorously and/or have a degree of curmudgeonly fatalism. It has a man trampled by sheep and another whose dark secret is that he got really scared one night.
Like I said, a fair book that reads like a good one. If only the ending didn't include one-final-twist that feels a little like Blackburn or his editor was trying to reduce some potential pushback against a major theme of the novel. Ah well, one last wink from a book that loves to wink, perhaps.
*With apologies to Mitch. You are still missed.
**Ah, tobacco puns.
John Blackburn's Children of the Night. Upon cracking open the tin I get a definite note of John Wyndam's 1950s novels, a bit of seaspray with a hint of bright. Packs easy. Lights easy, though maybe requires a tamp or two to get really going. Char light optional, but might help matters along. Once well lit, burns largely smooth and relaxed. A decent but middling taste at first it builds up through the mid-bowl to something of a delight. I get bits of raisin, a bit of oak. There is some Perique here. A bit of a Dennis Wheatley topping but it's not too cloying. Definitely handles it better than others have done. Roomnote has touches of sexism and an afterthought of racism, a few digs at liberals, but combines in a dash of self-deprecation to try and even it out. Burns a bit hot here or there, other times it's a bit stodgy, sometimes has a strange love of rebellious youth, and leaves some dottle at the end, but all in all, not a bad sometime smoke that has mostly cellared well for those looking for an older blend. Also recommended for those who enjoy a [Saint] James** Herbert Flake and would like to see an earlier alternative.
Starting out with a [doomed] salvage vessel and then drifting over to a [doomed] asshole who is perfectly fine with [figuratively, perhaps literally, I don't know what he does his spare time] biting the hand that feeds him, the book takes only a short bit to get properly into its deepest and truest asset: a playful and sometimes self-deprecating British conservatism that fist-bumps Edwardian ideals while channeling *that* uncle at your last family reunion.
Let us take a look at our duo of heroes, eh? You have explorer, author, pompous ass, and surprisingly skillful library researcher Moldon Mott; *and* cigarette-smoking doctor and substitute-scientific-expert-cum-man-of-action Dr. Tom Allen. They are partly aided by the research of spelunking Anglican Priest and hobbyist in the supernatural and sciences Father Aingler. I mean...are we sure John Blackburn isn't a time traveler who played the Call of Cthulhu RPG before getting trapped in the past?
Our duo (sort of trio if you include Tom's wife, though Blackburn only barely did) begin to investigate the strange cases that have plagued Dunstonholme for at least the past sixish centuries. A religious sect went cray on some poor villagers and then drowned. Dude got sheep trampled. Some railroad builders got spooked. Salvage ship smashes into another sheep. Some guys on motorbikes just pell-mell into a wall. Aingler, and Mott, are convinced there is an underlying reason with Mott following through Aingler's notes.
And, boy, there is a reason. Yessirree. Not gonna spoil it, but hike up your britches and get ready to hike tall all the way to yeppers land. I mean, it fails in pretty much every scientific, sociological, and literary way but hot DAMN is it a fun one.
Also, there is a place called Pounder's Hole so laugh it up, Chuckles.
I liked it. Maybe a lot. I mean, I think this is one of those books whose sort of quaint "popular genre fiction from another time" nature actually makes it more fun to read now than it would have been back then, when digs at the new liberal church might have been honestly topical instead of some strange precursor to the Merrily Watkins novels. The avuncular love of rowdy youth, the Hemingway-lite drinking discussions, the bevy of washed up war heroes and potbellied good guys. It's delightful. And if you are in the right mindset, this book will pour into your eye-holes with ease and you find yourself not quite minding the fact that the climatic ending is barely there (even though there are a couple of good short atrocities thrown in for good measure) or that the heroes are only ever slightly in danger and somehow magically avoid a lot of fallout at the end. Hell, you might even feel good about how un-depraved the book is (and if you want depravity, well, Space Pilgrim, just use your imagination...there are hints!). This is a fair book but it read like a good one.
There are a few little stylistic touches I did honestly enjoy. Blackburn likes to have dialogue to collect over a few paragraphs of long winds and then sort of die down in a short peep of a half line. Excerpts of old documents quoted tend to hint at the background instead of being particularly damning. It overdescribes a few things or uses a sparse spice of technical language here or there and then completely underdescribes others. With the exception of a certain [doomed] asshole, most internal-POV characters critique themselves humorously and/or have a degree of curmudgeonly fatalism. It has a man trampled by sheep and another whose dark secret is that he got really scared one night.
Like I said, a fair book that reads like a good one. If only the ending didn't include one-final-twist that feels a little like Blackburn or his editor was trying to reduce some potential pushback against a major theme of the novel. Ah well, one last wink from a book that loves to wink, perhaps.
*With apologies to Mitch. You are still missed.
**Ah, tobacco puns.
February 4, 2015
" 'It's "Joseph the Craftsman", of course. You can see him in the right background with the halo and the circular saw.'
'Um. He's going to lose a finger soon, if he doesn't put that guard down.' "
I really dug this. Blackburn writes about the power of the few and the despair of the many. He positions his characters alone against the world, fighting against (interestingly) the only true consensus we can see.
And all this revealed suddenly - he has a way of burying his themes, and then letting them explode.
Characters are the true standout. Even side characters are interesting and brimming with life and personality (which makes it that much more devastating when they're reduced to nothing but anger and fear).
'Um. He's going to lose a finger soon, if he doesn't put that guard down.' "
I really dug this. Blackburn writes about the power of the few and the despair of the many. He positions his characters alone against the world, fighting against (interestingly) the only true consensus we can see.
And all this revealed suddenly - he has a way of burying his themes, and then letting them explode.
Characters are the true standout. Even side characters are interesting and brimming with life and personality (which makes it that much more devastating when they're reduced to nothing but anger and fear).
February 16, 2024
A short, fierce horror novel. Really well written. Legit terrifying. An absolutely brilliant second half. Does not shirk from a bleak ending. Descriptions of dank deep caves and creatures to savour.
The right director could turn this into an obscenely good movie.
The right director could turn this into an obscenely good movie.
February 13, 2025
CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT, John Blackburn. Panther Books 1968. 5/-.
REVIEW BY DAVID A. SUTTON
The 'Children of Paul' have lived for centuries in the caves under Dunstonholme and now it is time for them to strike, with the deadly forces of the supernatural!
John Blackburn's CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT is a modern novel of terror, set in a quiet village, contaminated with fear. Sometimes it smells: the cloying stench of murder. Sometimes reading horribly like Nigel Kneale's QUATERMASS AND THE PIT, with its strange, mutated horrors buried below, waiting their time, using telepathy, and creating fear … horror... death! Could the fanatical religious sect, the 'Children of Paul', survive all these hundreds of years underground, developing weird powers, ready to use on the humanity they hated?
A history of inexplicable deaths in Dunstonholme village, which happen when there is noisy disturbance on the moors, CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT is well written and characterised, and becomes easy reading, the plot fairly racing along to the gruesome end that I will not reveal.
The climax, the confrontation, is the only let-down in the book, because like any story where everything is revealed to the reader, there is nothing left afterwards to ponder on... except that it quite possibly could happen!
A fine story of terror, and well recommended.
From "Shadow: Fantasy Literature Review", issue 3, Oct/Nov 1968.
REVIEW BY DAVID A. SUTTON
The 'Children of Paul' have lived for centuries in the caves under Dunstonholme and now it is time for them to strike, with the deadly forces of the supernatural!
John Blackburn's CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT is a modern novel of terror, set in a quiet village, contaminated with fear. Sometimes it smells: the cloying stench of murder. Sometimes reading horribly like Nigel Kneale's QUATERMASS AND THE PIT, with its strange, mutated horrors buried below, waiting their time, using telepathy, and creating fear … horror... death! Could the fanatical religious sect, the 'Children of Paul', survive all these hundreds of years underground, developing weird powers, ready to use on the humanity they hated?
A history of inexplicable deaths in Dunstonholme village, which happen when there is noisy disturbance on the moors, CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT is well written and characterised, and becomes easy reading, the plot fairly racing along to the gruesome end that I will not reveal.
The climax, the confrontation, is the only let-down in the book, because like any story where everything is revealed to the reader, there is nothing left afterwards to ponder on... except that it quite possibly could happen!
A fine story of terror, and well recommended.
From "Shadow: Fantasy Literature Review", issue 3, Oct/Nov 1968.
November 21, 2020
Rum business going on in the North East and it's all the fault of those pesky kids who hid in the caves in the 14th century and mutated into devil-worshipping telepathic destroyers. Meanwhile the local Bishop is a dithering liberal ninny and the boss of the chemical plant can lay his hands on a supply of nerve gas but his wife is such a frightful nuisance about it. The climax doesn't provoke any speeches about the violence beneath the mask of civilisation etc. which is a bloody relief as well.
April 7, 2022
Strange, rushed Folk Horror that tries to be all things in barely any pages. And the ability people have in this book to put a few tiny, TINY clues together, and deduce the wildest, most complicated pending apocalyptic nightmare on Earth as allegedly to be brought on by bizarre monsters, and then of course to turn out to be totally RIGHT…a speeding kaleidoscope shot from a fire-hose into a spinning barrel. And not in a good way.
The first third or so of the book is the better experience, but beware what it has attached itself to. The first few chapters reminded me just a bit of Angelus! by Peter Tremayne…read that instead. Later on I was reminded of Dance of the Dwarfs by Geoffrey Household…read that instead…and even Land Under England by Joseph O’Neill…read that instead. Telepathy and mind control, a subterranean race of mutant creatures waiting to emerge and destroy, the kitchen sink, a partridge in a pear tree, this, that, and the other, Quatermassy messiness, lions and tigers and bears, OMG. A veritable buffet of too much, at the speed of unsound.
I’ll still read A Scent of New-Mown Hay, and probably Bury Him Darkly, by this author - but I’m not in a rush. Enough rushing.
The first third or so of the book is the better experience, but beware what it has attached itself to. The first few chapters reminded me just a bit of Angelus! by Peter Tremayne…read that instead. Later on I was reminded of Dance of the Dwarfs by Geoffrey Household…read that instead…and even Land Under England by Joseph O’Neill…read that instead. Telepathy and mind control, a subterranean race of mutant creatures waiting to emerge and destroy, the kitchen sink, a partridge in a pear tree, this, that, and the other, Quatermassy messiness, lions and tigers and bears, OMG. A veritable buffet of too much, at the speed of unsound.
I’ll still read A Scent of New-Mown Hay, and probably Bury Him Darkly, by this author - but I’m not in a rush. Enough rushing.
November 2, 2012
Please see my extended review at Casual Debris.
Strange things are occurring around the Moorish community of Dunstonholme, odd events proving fatal to the simple townsfolk. When the local priest is found dead Dr. Tom Allen and adventurer Moldon Mott begin to investigate the events, and uncover an unlikely cause to the recent bouts of insanity.
Children of the Night is presented as a cozy mystery, upholding many traditional elements of suspense, along with its stock characters (though well drawn), simple tensions and bits of humour. Despite strong mystery elements, it revolves around a distinct supernatural element. Moreover, the book is more violent, with a greater body count than cozy mysteries are normally prone to, and the looming threat has not just a community affected, but potentially the entire world. The combination of elements work well overall, and we are not suddenly surprised by the supernatural since (other than those fantastical covers) it is made clear right off the bat that we are dealing with a supernatural and sinister mystery. Though there is nothing terribly shocking about the reveal, it is certainly interesting, and if you think about it seriously, beyond the scope of fantasy, quite disturbing.
Strange things are occurring around the Moorish community of Dunstonholme, odd events proving fatal to the simple townsfolk. When the local priest is found dead Dr. Tom Allen and adventurer Moldon Mott begin to investigate the events, and uncover an unlikely cause to the recent bouts of insanity.
Children of the Night is presented as a cozy mystery, upholding many traditional elements of suspense, along with its stock characters (though well drawn), simple tensions and bits of humour. Despite strong mystery elements, it revolves around a distinct supernatural element. Moreover, the book is more violent, with a greater body count than cozy mysteries are normally prone to, and the looming threat has not just a community affected, but potentially the entire world. The combination of elements work well overall, and we are not suddenly surprised by the supernatural since (other than those fantastical covers) it is made clear right off the bat that we are dealing with a supernatural and sinister mystery. Though there is nothing terribly shocking about the reveal, it is certainly interesting, and if you think about it seriously, beyond the scope of fantasy, quite disturbing.
June 6, 2014
Another fun and fast-paced genre mix-up from Blackburn, which has been lovingly reissued by my favorite small press, Valancourt books, who are well on their way to reissuing just about everything by this prolific author. This is only my fourth Blackburn out of 28 published, but based on this and the other three (The Scent of New Mown Hay, Bury Him Darkly, and Nothing But the Night) Blackburn is a remarkably reliable genre author. This is not to say he's formulaic, but you know you're in for a page turner with unusually stylish writing, vivid imagery, and a sly sense of humor, if the characters are a bit "stock," as another reader put it. Essentially every Blackburn could be that 60s Hammer film you would have wanted to see, but which never got made. Of the Blackburn novels I've read so far, Children comes the closest to being part of the Lovecraftian tradition, with the still living and inbreeding 13th century religious cult being a particularly frightening concept. Don't expect great literature, but the writing is quite good and at 130 pages, you can read this very enjoyable horror story in a single sitting.
June 1, 2022
In leanness and tone Children of the Night has much in common with early post-WW2 thrillers by Maclean and Bagley. Blackburn's strength in Children of the Night is dramatizing thriller crises in wild and dangerous landscapes whose history of ancient menace coexists with the modern world.
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January 5, 2020
I had previously read Scent Of New Mown Hay by John Blackburn and found it an excellent read. Children Of The Night is a later publication by Blackburn and while I don't feel it lives up to my first exposure to his writing it is still an interesting horror story, not terrifying but still creepy.
Off the coast of Dunstonholme in northern England, a salvage steamer sets off explosions underwater to crack the hull of a sunken freighter. The freighter' cargo was lead and the plan is to recover the lead for sale. The explosion seems to wake something and suddenly the ship's captain has the ship speeding out to sea, only to crash into another boat, with a resulting explosion and loss of all of the crew.
Over the course of the next few days a number of other incidents (read 'deaths') occur that spook the townspeople. The local priest and a celebrated explorer currently residing there begin an exploration into the history of the town. Incidents have occurred throughout the years; the failure of a lead mine, the failure of the attempt to bring the railroad to the town. It leads back to an incident in the 1300's when a religious sect came through the town and murdered the townsfolk and then disappeared.
As the story progresses the tension in the town mounts and a history written by the priest leads some to believe that the 'end is nigh' that something evil is going to arise and destroy the world? Or at least the town. A small group decide it's incumbent upon them to stop this arising. Of course, others will try to stop them.
It's a fast - paced story, although there is some repetition of this town history with little bits added to it with each telling. It rushes to a cataclysmic ending, somewhat quickly resolved. All in all, I did enjoy. There are some leanings towards Village of the Damned (The Midwich Cuckoos) by John Wyndham. I did like and I think I'll continue to search out other books by Blackburn. (3.5 stars)
Off the coast of Dunstonholme in northern England, a salvage steamer sets off explosions underwater to crack the hull of a sunken freighter. The freighter' cargo was lead and the plan is to recover the lead for sale. The explosion seems to wake something and suddenly the ship's captain has the ship speeding out to sea, only to crash into another boat, with a resulting explosion and loss of all of the crew.
Over the course of the next few days a number of other incidents (read 'deaths') occur that spook the townspeople. The local priest and a celebrated explorer currently residing there begin an exploration into the history of the town. Incidents have occurred throughout the years; the failure of a lead mine, the failure of the attempt to bring the railroad to the town. It leads back to an incident in the 1300's when a religious sect came through the town and murdered the townsfolk and then disappeared.
As the story progresses the tension in the town mounts and a history written by the priest leads some to believe that the 'end is nigh' that something evil is going to arise and destroy the world? Or at least the town. A small group decide it's incumbent upon them to stop this arising. Of course, others will try to stop them.
It's a fast - paced story, although there is some repetition of this town history with little bits added to it with each telling. It rushes to a cataclysmic ending, somewhat quickly resolved. All in all, I did enjoy. There are some leanings towards Village of the Damned (The Midwich Cuckoos) by John Wyndham. I did like and I think I'll continue to search out other books by Blackburn. (3.5 stars)
October 6, 2023
Some seven months ago I cheerily read one of the most entertaining but stupid books of all time, Into The Silence by Basil Copper. And that book kept coming to mind as I ploughed through this. You could argue that Blackburn is a better writer, because his plotting is a lot less wayward and his grasp of tension is very strong. But - and this is a huge, dangling and colossal but - Copper is a million times more charming and entertaining an author. He has a far more warm and wide eyed wonder about his daft plot and feels far more like a beloved uncle telling you an admittedly silly but deeply enjoyable story
Blackburn, on the other side, is very clearly a massive dick. I mean for a start we have his ridiculous hero, J Moldon Mott who on the page feels like Lord Flashheart: arrogant, belligerent and a total prick. But Blackburn adores him. He clearly thinks this man - who for some reason dons black leather shorts for some adventuring- is literally the coolest guy in the world. But he’s very clearly an arrogant tit. Worst still is the straw men of limp liberal woolly headedness and pacifism of which there are many, and almost all of which die horribly. The sanctimonious bitch - I use her husband’s term for her - is shown to be a wet liberal because she had an accident while hunting, but is better by the end of it and no longer some sort of Daily Mail fantasy figure, instead returned to normal and allowing her husband to dominate her again. The actual monsters are quiet effective but any actual tension is ruined because Blackburn doesn’t give a shit about them in comparison to his lovely, buff, towering hunk of burning love who is - and I again repeat this ridiculous name - J Moldon Mott
So, yeah. Point to Copper by a considerable, considerable margin
Blackburn, on the other side, is very clearly a massive dick. I mean for a start we have his ridiculous hero, J Moldon Mott who on the page feels like Lord Flashheart: arrogant, belligerent and a total prick. But Blackburn adores him. He clearly thinks this man - who for some reason dons black leather shorts for some adventuring- is literally the coolest guy in the world. But he’s very clearly an arrogant tit. Worst still is the straw men of limp liberal woolly headedness and pacifism of which there are many, and almost all of which die horribly. The sanctimonious bitch - I use her husband’s term for her - is shown to be a wet liberal because she had an accident while hunting, but is better by the end of it and no longer some sort of Daily Mail fantasy figure, instead returned to normal and allowing her husband to dominate her again. The actual monsters are quiet effective but any actual tension is ruined because Blackburn doesn’t give a shit about them in comparison to his lovely, buff, towering hunk of burning love who is - and I again repeat this ridiculous name - J Moldon Mott
So, yeah. Point to Copper by a considerable, considerable margin
April 16, 2018
The third volume in the Centipede Press reissue of the best of British horror writer John Blackburn is a fun romp (get your popcorn!) set on the moors of northern England - imagine a mash up of Broadchurch and C.H.U.D.
June 1, 2022
Children of the Night is a heady and highly concentrated mix of cursed village, taboo moorland, sudden murderous madness, secret cults, and forsaken tin mines....
Full review:
http://jayrothermel.blogspot.com/2022...
Full review:
http://jayrothermel.blogspot.com/2022...
September 1, 2023
The Bonous Short story at the end of this novel, Drink to me only was a well crafted short story.
I would say i enjoyed that short story more than the novel.
Drink to me only by John Blackburn 5/5.
I would say i enjoyed that short story more than the novel.
Drink to me only by John Blackburn 5/5.
April 25, 2020
A decent read and thoroughly enjoyed for such an old book!
August 11, 2020
I love these old books more for the nostalgia than for the actual story, I'm afraid. The story was well-written, just not one of my favorites.
December 16, 2024
On the one hand, preposterous. On the other, a very solid Blackburn entry, splitting the difference between theological/occult horror and science fiction. (In that sense, the novel feels very contemporary, though the "science" here is less elaborate, and elaborated, than in more recent novels in this genre.) We've got a bunch of sinister happenings, on land, sea, and air, around a remote borderlands village, complete with a deep well of oddities going back more than six hundred years. There's a weird religious cult, some industrial self-destruction, an array of decently-evoked village characters, and one of Blackburn's obstreperous, eccentric stock doughty adventurers, who strides off to battle in brilliantly-colored socks and shorts so tight and short they'd get him arrested in Spain, we're told. So, all in all, pretty fun if this is what you like, and the characteristically brief 133 pages feel like about what the story needs.
January 20, 2025
I liked it. The build-up of tension was well done and we had a pretty good idea of what was going at about the halfway point instead of dragging it out until the last ten pages like some books I've read.
I liked most of the characters, especially Ainger and Mott and the old married couple at the end. The others did their job even if I wasn't particularly touched by them.
But it didn't have quite the spark to push it into 4 stars. Maybe it's because I'm American and I expect more "oomph!" in a climax. The climax had some neat moments but on the whole it wasn't as much as I wanted. And that's okay. I'd still recommend it as a fun read to my friends.
I liked most of the characters, especially Ainger and Mott and the old married couple at the end. The others did their job even if I wasn't particularly touched by them.
But it didn't have quite the spark to push it into 4 stars. Maybe it's because I'm American and I expect more "oomph!" in a climax. The climax had some neat moments but on the whole it wasn't as much as I wanted. And that's okay. I'd still recommend it as a fun read to my friends.
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