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Houses Without Doors
These psychic and horror fictions--seven of them short-shorts--reveals Straub at his spellbinding best. Two tales (first installments of his Blue Rose trilogy), are linked to Koko and Mystery and exactingly probe the consequences of boyhood clashes with evil. In "Blue Rose," sadistic Harry Beevers, 10, hypnotizes and destroys his younger brother; the tale leaps ahead to the ironic verdict in Harry's court-martial for wreaking atrocities in Vietnam. In the outstanding "The Juniper Tree," a novelist relives a harrowing, seductive summer when, at age seven, he was sexually molested in a movie house by drifter Stan, a seedy Alan Ladd lookalike. "The Buffalo Hunter" fastidiously chronicles the fixations of a 35-year-old who numbs his fear of women by sucking his coffee and cognac from baby bottles. In the ambitious gothic thriller/academic spoof "Mrs. God," a fatuous professor is lured to a creepy English mansion crammed with grisly secrets to research the papers of his poet ancestress; dead babies provide a subtheme. Wry and riveting, "A Short Guide to the City" fuses and parodies two genres: the self-congratulatory tourist blurb with a news alert on the "viaduct killer."
Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
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About the author
Peter Straub
260 books4,194 followersPeter Straub was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the son of Gordon Anthony Straub and Elvena (Nilsestuen) Straub.
Straub read voraciously from an early age, but his literary interests did not please his parents; his father hoped that he would grow up to be a professional athlete, while his mother wanted him to be a Lutheran minister. He attended Milwaukee Country Day School on a scholarship, and, during his time there, began writing.
Straub earned an honors BA in English at the University of Wisconsin–Madison in 1965, and an MA at Columbia University a year later. He briefly taught English at Milwaukee Country Day, then moved to Dublin, Ireland, in 1969 to work on a PhD, and to start writing professionally
After mixed success with two attempts at literary mainstream novels in the mid-1970s ("Marriages" and "Under Venus"), Straub dabbled in the supernatural for the first time with "Julia" (1975). He then wrote "If You Could See Me Now" (1977), and came to widespread public attention with his fifth novel, "Ghost Story" (1979), which was a critical success and was later adapted into a 1981 film. Several horror novels followed, with growing success, including "The Talisman" and "Black House", two fantasy-horror collaborations with Straub's long-time friend and fellow author Stephen King.
In addition to his many novels, he published several works of poetry during his lifetime.
In 1966, Straub married Susan Bitker.They had two children; their daughter, Emma Straub, is also a novelist. The family lived in Dublin from 1969 to 1972, in London from 1972 to 1979, and in the New York City area from 1979 onwards.
Straub died on September 4, 2022, aged 79, from complications of a broken hip. At the time of his death, he and his wife lived in Brooklyn (New York City).
Straub read voraciously from an early age, but his literary interests did not please his parents; his father hoped that he would grow up to be a professional athlete, while his mother wanted him to be a Lutheran minister. He attended Milwaukee Country Day School on a scholarship, and, during his time there, began writing.
Straub earned an honors BA in English at the University of Wisconsin–Madison in 1965, and an MA at Columbia University a year later. He briefly taught English at Milwaukee Country Day, then moved to Dublin, Ireland, in 1969 to work on a PhD, and to start writing professionally
After mixed success with two attempts at literary mainstream novels in the mid-1970s ("Marriages" and "Under Venus"), Straub dabbled in the supernatural for the first time with "Julia" (1975). He then wrote "If You Could See Me Now" (1977), and came to widespread public attention with his fifth novel, "Ghost Story" (1979), which was a critical success and was later adapted into a 1981 film. Several horror novels followed, with growing success, including "The Talisman" and "Black House", two fantasy-horror collaborations with Straub's long-time friend and fellow author Stephen King.
In addition to his many novels, he published several works of poetry during his lifetime.
In 1966, Straub married Susan Bitker.They had two children; their daughter, Emma Straub, is also a novelist. The family lived in Dublin from 1969 to 1972, in London from 1972 to 1979, and in the New York City area from 1979 onwards.
Straub died on September 4, 2022, aged 79, from complications of a broken hip. At the time of his death, he and his wife lived in Brooklyn (New York City).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 122 reviews
May 25, 2018
various stories, oddments, and novellas. despite the obvious talents of the author, the collection is strikingly variable in quality. a difficult one to rate!
as always, Straub mines inner landscapes for psychological horror gold. sadly much coal was mined as well. that said, and despite whatever reservations I may have for certain stories, his power as a writer is always present. cold-eyed and chilly at heart, Straub is best suited for readers who have little interest in empathizing with a story's protagonist. he has an elegant, often formal, sometimes didactic, always highly intellectual style that could frustrate those readers longing for warmth, the milk of human kindness, and a beating, sentimental heart. he is not a tender author, even when he tries to be. such is the case for many who truck in stories of the mind - especially the broken ones - rather than in narratives of humans trying to overcome the odds. happily my blood runs cold, so Straub will always be a go-to author for me, despite his flaws. he sees the darkness within the hearts of mankind; I appreciate that sort of vision.
1 star for "Blue Rose"
a budding psychopath tortures his younger brother and waxes poetic about finding himself. despite its connection to the impressive Koko (and its less impressive sequels), the story is flat, uninteresting, repulsive.
1 star for "The Juniper Tree"
a man details his youth: in particular his loneliness and difference, the lack of love from his appalling father, his own love of classic films, and the series of molestations that shape him, or rather hollow him out. the writing is superb. the story itself is flat, uninteresting, repulsive.
2 stars for the various oddments that are inserted between each story or novella
beautifully written; boring.
2 stars for "Something About a Death, Something About a Fire"
I forgot about what this was about almost immediately upon finishing it. alas?
3 stars for "A Short Guide to the City"
Straub describes Chicago (I think) in a way that reminded me of Thomas Ligotti and Michael Cisco's strange, ambiguous descriptions of blighted, haunted cities full of violence, darkness, and eerie mystery. quite well done. I wish there were a narrative surrounding it, or birthed from it - although I'm not sure how that would have been accomplished; as is, the "guide" is fascinating but minor.
4 stars for "The Buffalo Hunter
a self-deluded young man lives a solitary life, engages in various fantasy romances, drinks a lot while reading lots of paperbacks, avoids flying back home to visit his unloving father and increasingly ailing mother, screws over a work friend, and most importantly, develops a remarkably disturbing addiction to baby bottles. this is a scabrous, surreal tragicomedy. I loved it. our appalling narrator's dark entries into the often trite worlds of his paperbacks were a highlight. Straub does an excellent job showing a mundane reality twist slowly into dreamy horror; especially when his shallow protagonist finds his hallucinations of a paperback life to be more interesting than his real life... despite those dreams containing bloodthirstiness and unsettling reflections of his own life that are not actually present in those paperback narratives. not to mention those baby bottles and the surprisingly creative use our hero puts them to! I related this story to two friends over drinks; one laughed uproariously, delighted; the other looked at me as if only a monster could enjoy such things. I am monster!
5 stars for "Mrs. God"
I'm so glad I saved the longest piece for last; it really made me realize that this book was a keeper, despite the weaker stories. in an Afterward, Straub mentions that Robert Aickman inspired this piece. although the influence is a strong one (and Aickman is one of my favorite authors, so I appreciated that), Straub really makes this nightmare his own. from the seriously unstable narrator to the unsettling and often upsetting English villagers (I saw a lot of Aickman there) to the past shadowing the present to the feeling of a complex puzzle slowly but surely being worked out... all the pieces fit perfectly together. I especially loved latter parts of the novella that plunge the reader into a new narrative written by another protagonist, the tragic heroine of a very different tale - Straub shifts his writing style perfectly. I was constantly smiling in appreciation during those segments. overall this is a sardonic and very modern mix of old-fashioned haunted mansion tropes finding new life and late twentieth century-style psychological meltdowns that find their roots in the past. a perfectly ghastly, highly atmospheric, brilliantly written tour de force. synopsis: asshole professor invited for an extended stay at an old English manor is enchanted, then upset.
as always, Straub mines inner landscapes for psychological horror gold. sadly much coal was mined as well. that said, and despite whatever reservations I may have for certain stories, his power as a writer is always present. cold-eyed and chilly at heart, Straub is best suited for readers who have little interest in empathizing with a story's protagonist. he has an elegant, often formal, sometimes didactic, always highly intellectual style that could frustrate those readers longing for warmth, the milk of human kindness, and a beating, sentimental heart. he is not a tender author, even when he tries to be. such is the case for many who truck in stories of the mind - especially the broken ones - rather than in narratives of humans trying to overcome the odds. happily my blood runs cold, so Straub will always be a go-to author for me, despite his flaws. he sees the darkness within the hearts of mankind; I appreciate that sort of vision.
A flushed, radiant demon filled with blood gazed at him from the mirror. Standish brushed his teeth, his eyes held by the gleaming eyes of the demon in the mirror. Froth bubbled comically from his lips. He rinsed his mouth with cold water, spat into the sink, looked once again at his demon's eyes, then splashed his face with cold water.
1 star for "Blue Rose"
a budding psychopath tortures his younger brother and waxes poetic about finding himself. despite its connection to the impressive Koko (and its less impressive sequels), the story is flat, uninteresting, repulsive.
1 star for "The Juniper Tree"
a man details his youth: in particular his loneliness and difference, the lack of love from his appalling father, his own love of classic films, and the series of molestations that shape him, or rather hollow him out. the writing is superb. the story itself is flat, uninteresting, repulsive.
2 stars for the various oddments that are inserted between each story or novella
beautifully written; boring.
2 stars for "Something About a Death, Something About a Fire"
I forgot about what this was about almost immediately upon finishing it. alas?
3 stars for "A Short Guide to the City"
Straub describes Chicago (I think) in a way that reminded me of Thomas Ligotti and Michael Cisco's strange, ambiguous descriptions of blighted, haunted cities full of violence, darkness, and eerie mystery. quite well done. I wish there were a narrative surrounding it, or birthed from it - although I'm not sure how that would have been accomplished; as is, the "guide" is fascinating but minor.
4 stars for "The Buffalo Hunter
a self-deluded young man lives a solitary life, engages in various fantasy romances, drinks a lot while reading lots of paperbacks, avoids flying back home to visit his unloving father and increasingly ailing mother, screws over a work friend, and most importantly, develops a remarkably disturbing addiction to baby bottles. this is a scabrous, surreal tragicomedy. I loved it. our appalling narrator's dark entries into the often trite worlds of his paperbacks were a highlight. Straub does an excellent job showing a mundane reality twist slowly into dreamy horror; especially when his shallow protagonist finds his hallucinations of a paperback life to be more interesting than his real life... despite those dreams containing bloodthirstiness and unsettling reflections of his own life that are not actually present in those paperback narratives. not to mention those baby bottles and the surprisingly creative use our hero puts them to! I related this story to two friends over drinks; one laughed uproariously, delighted; the other looked at me as if only a monster could enjoy such things. I am monster!
5 stars for "Mrs. God"
I'm so glad I saved the longest piece for last; it really made me realize that this book was a keeper, despite the weaker stories. in an Afterward, Straub mentions that Robert Aickman inspired this piece. although the influence is a strong one (and Aickman is one of my favorite authors, so I appreciated that), Straub really makes this nightmare his own. from the seriously unstable narrator to the unsettling and often upsetting English villagers (I saw a lot of Aickman there) to the past shadowing the present to the feeling of a complex puzzle slowly but surely being worked out... all the pieces fit perfectly together. I especially loved latter parts of the novella that plunge the reader into a new narrative written by another protagonist, the tragic heroine of a very different tale - Straub shifts his writing style perfectly. I was constantly smiling in appreciation during those segments. overall this is a sardonic and very modern mix of old-fashioned haunted mansion tropes finding new life and late twentieth century-style psychological meltdowns that find their roots in the past. a perfectly ghastly, highly atmospheric, brilliantly written tour de force. synopsis: asshole professor invited for an extended stay at an old English manor is enchanted, then upset.
October 17, 2022
"Every night he comes thudding out of sleep, covered in sweat and staring into the dark. Something huge and scaly is twisting away into nothingness. There you are again, he thinks, there you are, old friend."
Initial Thoughts
The Great 2022 Straub read-a-thon continues with my first crack at one of his short story collections...Houses Without Doors. A book that was actually recommended to me by the author Nathan Ballingrud, when we shared some correspondence over his stellar collection of short fiction...Wounds. Like myself, he was a big fan of Straub's work and thought I'd appreciate it...let's find out.
This was Straub’s first collection of short stories and published in 1990. He has another two I believe in Magic Terror and Interior Darkness. So far, I've only tried his novels and had a great time. What you're getting is really well-written and enjoyable horror that is much more subtle in its approach to the modern blood and guts routine that is saturating the market. I was interested to work out if this would translate well into short fiction, which appears to be a fine art.
Authors like Stephen King and Robert McCammon make the craft of short fiction look easy. Don’t believe me, then check out Night Shift (King) and Blue World (McCammon). But to me it’s hard to maintain a level of consistency and there’s always a few duds amongst any collection. Hopefully there’d be only a few of those with this one. Wish me luck! (With Straub’s quality of writing, who needs luck?)
The Stories
Houses Without Doors consists of five longer stories as well as two short pieces, along with tiny interludes providing a break between each. The interludes appear to connect but didn’t really give me anything and in my opinion were a little bit pointless. But that’s not what I paid my money for, so on to the main stories.
Blue Rose - ⭐⭐⭐⭐1/2
The first story is a prelude of sorts to Straub’s excellent serial killer, mystery Koko and an absolute cracker. It centre’s around young Harry Beavers, who was a central character in the aforementioned novel, and a budding psychopath in the making. Kicking off in the 1950’s, when Harry takes up hypnotism and decides to try out his new talent on his little brother Eddie things quickly take a turn for the worst. Yes it nasty, yes its uncomfortable. But it grabs your attention and doesn’t let go. Terrific start.
Juniper Tree - ⭐⭐⭐ ⭐
This one is just as uncomfortable as the first and centres around a seven-year-old boy who is molested by a vagrant in a cinema. Not realising how messed up this is, he continues to meet him there and things only get more disturbing. It’s very realistic and dark, which is not surprising as Straub himself revealed in an interview he was once molested in a cinema while a child. But it is effective and well written.
Again, this one has links to Straub’s Blue Rose trilogy as I seem to remember the story being mentioned in Mystery as Tony Underhill’s first published story.
"I think of sliding the pebble of broken glass across my throat, slicing myself wide open to let death in."
A Short Guide to the City - ⭐⭐1/2
The first “dud” of the collection for me and didn’t really connect with this story. It doesn’t really have a plot and instead We get an omniscient narrator providing observations of a midwestern city where a spree of murders has taken place at the hand of the “viaduct killer.” Due to the lack of a central character, and how brief it is, it just isn’t that engaging, and I quickly forgot about it once I’d finished.
Buffalo Hunter - ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Another longer story and again one of real quality. Bob Bunting is a computer worker and a complete social misfit who lies to anyone who will listen about his fictitious Swiss girlfriend when his nights really consist of being tucked up in bed reading books and sipping gin out of a baby bottle. Pretty wild hey? Things get even more crazy when Bob discovers he can connect with the novels he reads in a fantastical way, becoming part of the story and inhabiting the characters within it. Its bizarre, its extremely creative and it’s pure Straub. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Something About a Death Something About a Fire - ⭐⭐
Another short piece and again one that was forgettable. There’s a pattern here! This is in fact Straub's first written story that's in publication so we can forgive him that and it’s interesting to read purely on that basis.
It centres around a strange clown who drives a taxi that has magical properties. It becomes the central attraction in a circus and amazes those who watch in a fantastic way. It’s all very surreal and a bit hard to follow. I’ve got to say that personally I prefer a more concrete narrative, and this certainly wasn’t for me. To be honest two stars is being generous.
Mrs God - ⭐⭐⭐⭐1/2
They say you should save the best to last and in my opinion Straub does with the longest story in the collection. This is the author’s own spin on a classic haunted house story, where author William Standish is invited to the lavish estate of Esswood to work on his novel and investigate the mysterious and sudden death of his ancestor Isabel Standish. He soon discovers the house holds a dark secret and there's a very gothic atmosphere to this one as he explores his creepy surroundings.
Is it the best of the bunch? I'm going to have to say yes.
The Writing
This is my twelfth Straub novel, so you know by now I love the man's writing. Some of the stories are fairly straightforward and have some shocking scenes where others are more subtle and rely on the mounting sense of dread and unease to do the business. Whichever it is, the prose are trademark Peter Straub and right on the money.
"if something happened in your mind, it had happened—you had a memory of it, you could talk about it. It changed you in the same way as an event in the world. In the long run, there was very little difference between events in the world and events in the mind, because one reality inhabited them both. "
Final Thoughts
Its been roughly a month since Peter Straub passed away and it's certainly a time for celebrating the guys work and appreciating what he brought to the world of fiction. Particularly horror and suspense. Its my plan to read the majority of his published stuff and I am getting there.
Although Straub's talent is certainly more suited to his longer novels, I did really enjoy my first foray into his short fiction. It just doesn't quite give him the opportunity to really show what he can do.
Although this would be a good place to start with him, I definitely recommendGhost Story, Julia or Koko as my personal recommendations if you want to give him a try. And you definitely should.
A unifying thread I noticed while digesting these stories was that the main characters were on the whole unlikeable people. Or was it just that they were more realistic human beings, warts and all. Either way Straub provided some fascinating insight into the human psychology. Let me know what you think.
And thanks for reading...cheers!
"suppose you had a job that took you from one town to another. Suppose you killed someone in each one of those towns, carefully and quietly, and hid the bodies so it would take people a long time to find them. Your work would never be done."
August 1, 2014
Peter Straub elevates horror/dark fiction to an art form. Delectable prose, stories with a literary and artistic bent...this stuff is not to be missed.
February 6, 2012
Peter Straub has long since created a name for himself in the horror genre, with Clive Barker praising his work and calling him a great classicist.Houses Without Doors is an excellent collection of short fiction, illustrating his versatility and style.
Named after a Emily Dickinson poem ("Doom is the house without the door")
the volume contains 6 pieces, and 7 accompanying interludes, which together form a satisfying whole. The interludes, seemingly unrelated, take only a page or two, but in this short space they manage to do what many writers cannot do in the novel format; create a sense of place, a situation, and people who create it, interact with it and are affected by it. These are like short glimpses you might sometimes cast as you're walking to work or school; standing at a bus stop, pondering on something; seeing an old friend after a long time.
The stories in this collection are varied in terms of lenght and plots, but they all have in common a dark mood, a sense of approaching doom that cannot yet be seen but can slowly begin to be felt. As the pages turn, the characters find themselves dwelving deeper and deeper into their own traumas or situations which are unclear and mystifying, seeking resolution. The opening story, Blue Rose, is a disturbing recreation of a suburban household where a boy hypnotizes his kid brother and discovers that he now holds a dark and complete power over him; the account of abuse and mood of a household which is less than happy is frighteningly convincing. In The Juniper Tree a writers comes back again and again to a summer of his childhood where he was abused by a pedophile in a movie theater, and its ambiguous influence; A short Guide to a City and Something about a Death, Something about a Fire are short pieces, the first of which is a nod to fans of Straub's non-supernatural novels of Koko, Mystery and The Throat, while the other is an experiment which for me did not fully work out.
Perhaps the two best entries in this volue are also the longest ones. The Buffallo Hunter is a novella about Bob Bunting, who on the surface appears to be just another of the endless white collared, middle class men, enslaved to mediocrity and eventless life. Straub, however, doesn't let us go so easy. Bob is a loner, who tells his parents about a trophy girlfriend that doesn't even exist; he's deadly afraid of women, and imagined the whole relationship just to seem normal. His imagination slowly starts taking control over his sense of reality, as he becomes deeply engaged in paperback novels he reads, quite literally immersing himself in the worlds he found on the page.
Mrs. God, the concluding novella, is deliciously gothic in its style and theme. The estate has been a place for meeting of figures such as D. H. Lawrence, T. S. Eliot, Ford Madox Ford, and Henry James. When William Standish receives a grant to visit the estate and study the original manuscripts of Isobel Standish on whom he does scholarly work, he eagerly accepts. But something seems slightly off at the estate, and he finds himself pulled into a game where the rules are not clear and the outcome is uncertain. This homage to classic tales of excellent, and closes the volume on a high note.
I enjoyed this collection a great deal. Straub's style is poetic and lyrical in places, and his sense of dread and ability to create fully fleshed personalities is as accute as ever. Recommended to all interested in seeing a writer at work, doing his job splendidly.
Named after a Emily Dickinson poem ("Doom is the house without the door")
the volume contains 6 pieces, and 7 accompanying interludes, which together form a satisfying whole. The interludes, seemingly unrelated, take only a page or two, but in this short space they manage to do what many writers cannot do in the novel format; create a sense of place, a situation, and people who create it, interact with it and are affected by it. These are like short glimpses you might sometimes cast as you're walking to work or school; standing at a bus stop, pondering on something; seeing an old friend after a long time.
The stories in this collection are varied in terms of lenght and plots, but they all have in common a dark mood, a sense of approaching doom that cannot yet be seen but can slowly begin to be felt. As the pages turn, the characters find themselves dwelving deeper and deeper into their own traumas or situations which are unclear and mystifying, seeking resolution. The opening story, Blue Rose, is a disturbing recreation of a suburban household where a boy hypnotizes his kid brother and discovers that he now holds a dark and complete power over him; the account of abuse and mood of a household which is less than happy is frighteningly convincing. In The Juniper Tree a writers comes back again and again to a summer of his childhood where he was abused by a pedophile in a movie theater, and its ambiguous influence; A short Guide to a City and Something about a Death, Something about a Fire are short pieces, the first of which is a nod to fans of Straub's non-supernatural novels of Koko, Mystery and The Throat, while the other is an experiment which for me did not fully work out.
Perhaps the two best entries in this volue are also the longest ones. The Buffallo Hunter is a novella about Bob Bunting, who on the surface appears to be just another of the endless white collared, middle class men, enslaved to mediocrity and eventless life. Straub, however, doesn't let us go so easy. Bob is a loner, who tells his parents about a trophy girlfriend that doesn't even exist; he's deadly afraid of women, and imagined the whole relationship just to seem normal. His imagination slowly starts taking control over his sense of reality, as he becomes deeply engaged in paperback novels he reads, quite literally immersing himself in the worlds he found on the page.
Mrs. God, the concluding novella, is deliciously gothic in its style and theme. The estate has been a place for meeting of figures such as D. H. Lawrence, T. S. Eliot, Ford Madox Ford, and Henry James. When William Standish receives a grant to visit the estate and study the original manuscripts of Isobel Standish on whom he does scholarly work, he eagerly accepts. But something seems slightly off at the estate, and he finds himself pulled into a game where the rules are not clear and the outcome is uncertain. This homage to classic tales of excellent, and closes the volume on a high note.
I enjoyed this collection a great deal. Straub's style is poetic and lyrical in places, and his sense of dread and ability to create fully fleshed personalities is as accute as ever. Recommended to all interested in seeing a writer at work, doing his job splendidly.
April 17, 2015
-Haciendo género de una forma muy personal e intimista.-
Género. Relatos.
Lo que nos cuenta. Seis relatos del autor (alguno parece una novela corta) separados por interludios que parecen microrrelatos abiertos, que se acercan a concepciones muy personales del horror (que no del terror).
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
http://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com/...
Género. Relatos.
Lo que nos cuenta. Seis relatos del autor (alguno parece una novela corta) separados por interludios que parecen microrrelatos abiertos, que se acercan a concepciones muy personales del horror (que no del terror).
¿Quiere saber más de este libro, sin spoilers? Visite:
http://librosdeolethros.blogspot.com/...
October 24, 2021
This is a collection of some longer length short stories, probably novella length, and very short interspersing vingettes of a page or so. The first of the more substantial stories is about a character from the author's novel, Koko, and having read that novel, the boy's name was an immediate clue that something nasty was about to transpire, given that the grown-up version of this character was thoroughly unpleasant in the novel. Sure enough, Harry Beavers learns to hypnotise his younger brother with horrific results. (In an afterword, the author tells us that this and 'The Juniper Tree' which follows are meant to be by his character Tim Underhill, best-selling author, who used the stories to work out things in his life and so the Harry of this story isn't meant to be literally the one from 'Koko'.) I found this story rather too graphically nasty.
'The Juniper Tree' is about a boy who is molested in a cinema - a theme from 'The Throat', the third of the author's Blue Rose trilogy, where this happened to one of the serial killers and, again, to Tim himself. It was better written than the first but has a somewhat anti-climactic ending.
'A Short Guide to the City' is a sort of guide to a tourist, the place visited being a version of Millhaven, the town in the Blue Rose trilogy and its follow-ups, since it has the Green Woman Taproom, notorious from 'The Throat' and other landmarks. However, it is a darker fantasy version of the place in other books, given that, as the story develops, it seems there are junkyard cities where children are living, a never-finished bridge and other flights of fancy.
'The Buffalo Hunter' is, I think, meant to be black comedy. I found it went on far too long and the extended 'joke' about baby bottles was soon very wearing.
Probably the best in the book is the concluding 'Mrs God' about a man who escapes to a stately home in England to evade the pregnant wife he is angry with, in order to research an obscure poet who spent a lot of time there decades previously. All too soon, the parallels with his own situation start to appear. The strangely disconnected and disoriented tone of the story, including the odd village encountered on the character's journey to the great house, reminded me of Ramsey Campbell's work, though from the author's afterword his inspiration was taken from Robert Aickman, another writer of supernatural tales.
Altogether, I didn't enjoy the collection and can only rate it at an 'OK' 2 stars.
'The Juniper Tree' is about a boy who is molested in a cinema - a theme from 'The Throat', the third of the author's Blue Rose trilogy, where this happened to one of the serial killers and, again, to Tim himself. It was better written than the first but has a somewhat anti-climactic ending.
'A Short Guide to the City' is a sort of guide to a tourist, the place visited being a version of Millhaven, the town in the Blue Rose trilogy and its follow-ups, since it has the Green Woman Taproom, notorious from 'The Throat' and other landmarks. However, it is a darker fantasy version of the place in other books, given that, as the story develops, it seems there are junkyard cities where children are living, a never-finished bridge and other flights of fancy.
'The Buffalo Hunter' is, I think, meant to be black comedy. I found it went on far too long and the extended 'joke' about baby bottles was soon very wearing.
Probably the best in the book is the concluding 'Mrs God' about a man who escapes to a stately home in England to evade the pregnant wife he is angry with, in order to research an obscure poet who spent a lot of time there decades previously. All too soon, the parallels with his own situation start to appear. The strangely disconnected and disoriented tone of the story, including the odd village encountered on the character's journey to the great house, reminded me of Ramsey Campbell's work, though from the author's afterword his inspiration was taken from Robert Aickman, another writer of supernatural tales.
Altogether, I didn't enjoy the collection and can only rate it at an 'OK' 2 stars.
December 16, 2021
This short collection of alternative horror stories by Peter Straub is great. Don’t go into this expecting to read scary tales of the typical horror troupes, rather, Straub employs the use of basic human nature and general real world scenarios to scare the daylights out of readers. Highly recommend.
April 4, 2012
A short story collection that I first read about fifteen years ago and which has stood up well to re-reading. (Despite my memory of it being rather different from the actual book!) Four very strong novellas interspersed with shorter pieces that play with technique and form. Peter Straub is an ambitious writer with an uncanny ability to take an almost-normal character in an almost-normal situation -- a person we can empathise with, a person we think might be only a little bit off-kilter -- and lead us down the strange and often dark paths their lives take. This is a collection that plays with ideas of being haunted, by others, by our pasts, by our dreams and ambitions. And you'll never look at a baby bottle in the same way ever again.
For a more in depth discussion of Houses Without Doors, please listen to my podcast, The Writer and the Critic, episode 17.
For a more in depth discussion of Houses Without Doors, please listen to my podcast, The Writer and the Critic, episode 17.
March 1, 2018
Este libro es una rara compilación que contiene historias sorprendentes y narraciones sin sentido. Hubo tres o cuatro historias que disfruté leer, y que parecían ser la obra de un autor con mucho conocimiento de la psicología humana, y que además parecía tener una gran capacidad para crear escenas llenas de suspenso y emociones fuertes. Sin embargo, varias historias me decepcionaron. En un principio parecían buenas, pero al final resultaron ser un engaño. La cantidad de detalles que contenían prometían mucho, pero no llevaban a ninguna parte. Estas historias terminaban cuando no habían ni siquiera empezado. Particularmente, hay una historia que describe extensamente una ciudad, mostrando al mismo tiempo que allí se ha cometido un crimen, pero del que no se sabe quién es el culpable. Se habla de las extrañas costumbres de la gente, y se sugiere que cualquiera podría ser el culpable. Sin embargo, no se dan especificaciones de ningún tipo. Una descripción así sirve como el preludio de una historia bien desarrollada, pero en este caso la historia termina dejando al autor en deuda con el lector, dando la impresión de que la historia está incompleta. En estos casos se habla de tantas cosas generales que no hay nada que impacte al lector ni lo deje con algo valioso que recordar, como ocurre con las buenas historias que hay en el libro. Fueron estas historias incompletas, que no tenían razón de ser, las que fueron borrando la buena impresión dejada por las buenas historias. Terminaba de leer una historia y pensaba “Vaya, eso fue muy intenso. Este autor es un genio.” Pero luego descubría que la historia siguiente era una decepción, y me retractaba. Podría decirse que las historias buenas de este libro son excelentes, y las malas, pésimas. Y, para hacerle un poco de justicia al autor, he de reconocer que la temática escogida es muy buena. Todas las historias tenían algo en común; y este concepto es muy interesante. El pertenecer a un país, el tener una casa… muchas veces se consideran como un regalo muy preciado, algo que deberíamos agradecer. Sin embargo, en muchas casos, aunque tengamos un lugar al que volver, no nos sentimos en casa. Es debido a vivir en una casa (material o inmaterial) que no es hospitalaria, que nos produce miedos, que nos lastima, que muchos seres humanos se convierten en algo que no deberían haber sido jamás. Esto se ve a menudo en nuestra sociedad actual. No me refiero solamente al hogar familiar, sino a todo aquello que constituye nuestra casa: el mundo, la sociedad, la nación. Nuestra casa no siempre se preocupa por nosotros. La temática de este libro es completamente moderna, y me alegro mucho de que el autor comprenda que no sólo a los niños les afecta vivir en un hogar hostil, sino también a los jóvenes y a los adultos. El deseo de sentirse en casa siempre estará ahí, sin importar la edad que tengamos. Y una morada hostil siempre tendrá el poder de hacernos daño y cambiarnos.
September 22, 2008
What a delightful surprise! I have a couple of shelves of pass-a-long books – great for the vegetating – and they fall mostly into two categories; romance and horror. So this weekend I was looking for a little light reading and I picked out House Without Doors. Straub co-author The Talisman with Stephen King – my favorite King book save The Gunslinger – but I’ve never read anything else by Straub. I see now that’s been a mistake. House Without Doors is a collection of short stories and flash fiction.
Not all the stories are perfect. “Mrs. God” for one is kind of a meandering mess especially in terms of symbols and motifs. And that does seem to be his weakness. In “The Buffalo Hunter” Straub’s main character has a whole thing about baby bottles that except for making pretty images seems completely out of touch with the rest of the story.
But “The Buffalo Hunter” is half way through and “Mrs. God” is last. Most of the stories are engrossing journeys into the warp. Vivid stories about captivating characters in smooth, versatile prose.
It’s not so much that his ideas are original. We’ve all read the stories about the child killer, the child molester, the haunted house, etc. etc. Straub takes a fresh look at these ideas though. The details are uniquely his own.
Not all the stories are perfect. “Mrs. God” for one is kind of a meandering mess especially in terms of symbols and motifs. And that does seem to be his weakness. In “The Buffalo Hunter” Straub’s main character has a whole thing about baby bottles that except for making pretty images seems completely out of touch with the rest of the story.
But “The Buffalo Hunter” is half way through and “Mrs. God” is last. Most of the stories are engrossing journeys into the warp. Vivid stories about captivating characters in smooth, versatile prose.
It’s not so much that his ideas are original. We’ve all read the stories about the child killer, the child molester, the haunted house, etc. etc. Straub takes a fresh look at these ideas though. The details are uniquely his own.
October 27, 2018
"Houses without Doors" is a short story collection by Peter Straub that sneaks up on you gradually. Straub works his dark magic in a very subtle manner, terrifying you before you have a chance to defend yourself.
Each of these stories is a horror story, but they are not the horrors of the supernatural. There are no monsters or ghosts or witchcraft or wizardry in these stories. The stories Straub writes deal with the horrors everyone faces: guilt, loneliness, depression, hatred, anger, fear. He buries them deep in entertaining stories, masks them in beautiful writing. It is only when you are done reading the story that you realize the full impact of what you have read.
The title of the book is (my own personal interpretation) referring to us. We are all houses without doors, containing deep dark secrets that we do not want anyone, even our loved ones, to ever see. I think this is true. It's simply the nature of the human beast...
Each of these stories is a horror story, but they are not the horrors of the supernatural. There are no monsters or ghosts or witchcraft or wizardry in these stories. The stories Straub writes deal with the horrors everyone faces: guilt, loneliness, depression, hatred, anger, fear. He buries them deep in entertaining stories, masks them in beautiful writing. It is only when you are done reading the story that you realize the full impact of what you have read.
The title of the book is (my own personal interpretation) referring to us. We are all houses without doors, containing deep dark secrets that we do not want anyone, even our loved ones, to ever see. I think this is true. It's simply the nature of the human beast...
September 16, 2020
This book feels less like a horror novel and more like a junk drawer at the end of the hutch. You open it and shudder at the oddments long forgotten, and then close it in the hopes you never have to see it again and that, perhaps, the bits and bobs will sort themselves out. This book has rather distinctly a similar vibe. It’s not horror in the traditionalist sense of the word, but rather a bit of psychoanalysis mixed up in some old apocryphal spell words, and hoping that something comes together.
I’m not saying it’s bad- rather, I’m saying that it just seemed to take a bit of a meander at times. I like my horror novels tight and scary, and this just didn’t give it to me. I’ve read better from Straub, and some of these stories felt simultaneously long and half baked at the same time. The first story was probably the only one that gave me the icks, and that was from a purely human interest perspective. I just feel like this could have gone a little further and done a little bit more.
I’m not saying it’s bad- rather, I’m saying that it just seemed to take a bit of a meander at times. I like my horror novels tight and scary, and this just didn’t give it to me. I’ve read better from Straub, and some of these stories felt simultaneously long and half baked at the same time. The first story was probably the only one that gave me the icks, and that was from a purely human interest perspective. I just feel like this could have gone a little further and done a little bit more.
November 26, 2016
Que orgullo leer unos relatos tan atrevidos y sumamente bien escritos.
Peter no se achicha ni se casa con nadie. Nos cuenta como un chico aprende a hipnotizar y todo esos conocimientos y frustración los emplea para proyectarlos en su hermano pequeño con un final que podemos imaginar. También en primera persona nos habla de la superación de un niño acosado sexualmente, para llegar a ser alguien en un futuro. Tenemos una historia típica de fantasmas, en la que un hombre con ansias, viaje a un pueblo perdido para permanecer una semana en una casa perdida, cuyos habitantes y biblioteca es muy especial.
Una recopilación ideal. Mientras la leía parecía escrita por el dream team de escritores que conozco.
Peter no se achicha ni se casa con nadie. Nos cuenta como un chico aprende a hipnotizar y todo esos conocimientos y frustración los emplea para proyectarlos en su hermano pequeño con un final que podemos imaginar. También en primera persona nos habla de la superación de un niño acosado sexualmente, para llegar a ser alguien en un futuro. Tenemos una historia típica de fantasmas, en la que un hombre con ansias, viaje a un pueblo perdido para permanecer una semana en una casa perdida, cuyos habitantes y biblioteca es muy especial.
Una recopilación ideal. Mientras la leía parecía escrita por el dream team de escritores que conozco.
July 4, 2014
This is a wonderful, psychological and intelligent collection of short stories. This collection contains my favorite story of Straub's 'Mrs. God' I enjoy this story so much, I have an additional copy on my book shelf. It... and all the novellas in this collection.... are great explorations of how far jealousy, hatred, fear, guilt can take us. And none of us are above those emotional influences.
April 5, 2018
Simply no words for this miracle of a collection. "The Juniper Tree" and "The Buffalo Hunter" were standouts, but the whole book is an absolute must for anyone who loves horror with class and imagination.
September 3, 2017
When I pick up a Peter Straub novel, I always think it looks too long. When I read A Dark Matter, his 2010 Stoker prizewinner, I thought it needed pruning by at least 100 pages. But I’ve always liked the Straub stories I’ve read in anthologies, and this collection shows that the long short story and novella may be his best format.
His title adapts a line from Emily Dickenson, “Doom is the house without the door –“. A few of his characters inflict doom on others, but most find that they cannot escape their own. In the four major stories that compose the bulk of the book, varying levels of the supernatural figure into the narratives, and searchers after traditional horror motifs will be disappointed. “The Juniper Tree” describes in disturbing detail a seven-year-old boy's life-defining encounter with a pedophile. (This story ties into Straub’s trilogy of novel Koko, Mystery, and The Throat.) The middle son of a dysfunctional working-class family discovers his adeptness at hypnosis in “Blue Rose.” The sadistic games he plays with his newfound power end in tragedy, but the true horror is the insight the story gives into those who commit war crimes and get accepted into Columbia Law School. There is a satisfying blend of creepy humor and pathological behavior as the protagonist of “The Buffalo Hunter” slips into insanity, but here the supernatural element is a disappointment rather than a final payoff to what has gone before. Readers looking for a traditional ghost story in a creepy mansion almost get what they want in “Mrs. God,” but as in his award winning “The Ballad of Ballard and Sandrine,” Straub drags the reader into perverse and ultimately baffling territory.
These will not be journeys to many readers liking, but they have renewed my interest in Straub as an experimenter in contemporary horror
His title adapts a line from Emily Dickenson, “Doom is the house without the door –“. A few of his characters inflict doom on others, but most find that they cannot escape their own. In the four major stories that compose the bulk of the book, varying levels of the supernatural figure into the narratives, and searchers after traditional horror motifs will be disappointed. “The Juniper Tree” describes in disturbing detail a seven-year-old boy's life-defining encounter with a pedophile. (This story ties into Straub’s trilogy of novel Koko, Mystery, and The Throat.) The middle son of a dysfunctional working-class family discovers his adeptness at hypnosis in “Blue Rose.” The sadistic games he plays with his newfound power end in tragedy, but the true horror is the insight the story gives into those who commit war crimes and get accepted into Columbia Law School. There is a satisfying blend of creepy humor and pathological behavior as the protagonist of “The Buffalo Hunter” slips into insanity, but here the supernatural element is a disappointment rather than a final payoff to what has gone before. Readers looking for a traditional ghost story in a creepy mansion almost get what they want in “Mrs. God,” but as in his award winning “The Ballad of Ballard and Sandrine,” Straub drags the reader into perverse and ultimately baffling territory.
These will not be journeys to many readers liking, but they have renewed my interest in Straub as an experimenter in contemporary horror
February 7, 2017
Read this several years ago, but didn't remember enough about it to add it to the "read" folder, so I read it again. I'd probably read a telephone book if Straub wrote it; his prose is so lubricated and slick it goes down easy, even though it often has a bitter taste. A lot of his novels fall off the grid in terms of story for me; they can be either too complex or too boring, but I always end up sticking them out because his writing is just so good. That's the case with Houses Without Doors, too. Straub definitely has a talent for building a creepy, sinister atmosphere. It fogs around all the stories here. There's this black, smoking menace that permeates from the prose, and that's the strength of this collection. It's extremely dark, and most of the stories are disturbing on a sociopathic level. Stephen King's Skeleton Crew is a short story collection I can always go back to and read select favorites. Despite it's darkness, it has an overall fun vibe. Houses Without Doors is not a collection like that; this is not one you want to revisit. It has a dirtiness that lingers, but it's worth the time.
May 7, 2012
This is a book of similarly themed short stories, half of which are short shorts only a few pages long. The characters are people whose lives are untenable. They come from abusive upbringings and are now feeling trapped in their lives.
Straub is an excellent writer and creates vivid, if odd, characters. However, most of these stories didn't work for me. The short shorts were for the most part vague ramblings, not cohesive stories. Of the longer pieces, Blue Rose was the best. It's about an 11 year old boy who reads an old book on hypnotism and discovers he has a gift for it when he puts his younger brother under and something terrible happens. The story suffers only from a weak, anticlimactic ending. The Juniper Tree is a rote pedophilia tale that also ends poorly. The Buffalo Hunter and Mrs. God were both overwritten, going on far longer than was necessary.
Straub is an excellent writer and creates vivid, if odd, characters. However, most of these stories didn't work for me. The short shorts were for the most part vague ramblings, not cohesive stories. Of the longer pieces, Blue Rose was the best. It's about an 11 year old boy who reads an old book on hypnotism and discovers he has a gift for it when he puts his younger brother under and something terrible happens. The story suffers only from a weak, anticlimactic ending. The Juniper Tree is a rote pedophilia tale that also ends poorly. The Buffalo Hunter and Mrs. God were both overwritten, going on far longer than was necessary.
September 9, 2012
Psychological horror more well executed and convincing than any other I've read (to be fair, my experience with the genre is limited). 5 stars to Blue rose, and the unique, fascinating and disturbing vision of the other stories. The two longer pieces (that make out the majority of the book) could've probably used some editing, however, I'm torn because at the same time, the slow build really helped create an immersive reading experience.
April 29, 2025
Peter Straub's novels often indulge in structural and thematic excess, with generally rewarding but sometimes daunting results. His first collection, Houses Without Doors, is comprised of vignettes, short stories, and novellas that illuminate and distill aspects of the author's sensibility to consistently fascinating effect.
Mrs. God overflows with the author's love of misdirection, digression, linguistic density, genre reflexivity, and nested narratives within narratives. Straub credits Robert Aickman as this piece's primary influence, but to me it reads a lot more like Henry—and to a lesser extent—M. R. James: a classically Gothic study of an academic plunged into a haunted and increasingly hallucinatory interstice between psychic and physical space. The darkly hilarious Buffalo Hunter advances Straub's career-long fixations on metatextuality and the slippery distinctions between fiction and reality, clarified by the constraints of its short form. Blue Rose, connected to Straub's ambitious "Blue Rose Trilogy", contains some of the most harrowing and unflinching scenes of psychological evil in the author's oeuvre.
"The Juniper Tree" is the standout for me. It's an unusually complex representation of a sensitive writer's trajectory from abused childhood isolation to the discovery of creative process as a conduit for pain and the unknowable. Its vulnerability and immediacy left me dazed. "A Short Guide to the City" is another standout: a brilliantly executed formal experiment, a brief panoramic study of a city whose benevolent surface hides unimaginable horror (like a miniature wide-shot of a sprawling Stephen King epic; e.g. It, Needful Things, and Under the Dome). The vignette interludes are consistently intriguing, too: elliptical and suggestive snapshots of mystery.
Mrs. God overflows with the author's love of misdirection, digression, linguistic density, genre reflexivity, and nested narratives within narratives. Straub credits Robert Aickman as this piece's primary influence, but to me it reads a lot more like Henry—and to a lesser extent—M. R. James: a classically Gothic study of an academic plunged into a haunted and increasingly hallucinatory interstice between psychic and physical space. The darkly hilarious Buffalo Hunter advances Straub's career-long fixations on metatextuality and the slippery distinctions between fiction and reality, clarified by the constraints of its short form. Blue Rose, connected to Straub's ambitious "Blue Rose Trilogy", contains some of the most harrowing and unflinching scenes of psychological evil in the author's oeuvre.
"The Juniper Tree" is the standout for me. It's an unusually complex representation of a sensitive writer's trajectory from abused childhood isolation to the discovery of creative process as a conduit for pain and the unknowable. Its vulnerability and immediacy left me dazed. "A Short Guide to the City" is another standout: a brilliantly executed formal experiment, a brief panoramic study of a city whose benevolent surface hides unimaginable horror (like a miniature wide-shot of a sprawling Stephen King epic; e.g. It, Needful Things, and Under the Dome). The vignette interludes are consistently intriguing, too: elliptical and suggestive snapshots of mystery.
October 7, 2024
This book actually isn't a short story collection in the manner that most are, including those by Straub's famous buddy in the macabre, Stehen King. Rather than a bunch of shortish stories playing with a range of horror elements, you get about three novellas, two of which are quite long, and then a bunch of interludes rather than stories per se. It's an odd assortment of work by this fairly odd and, in my opinion, inconsistent writer. True to form, he writes in a very plodding sort of way, which is an acquired taste - arguably sublime when it works, infuriatingly tedious when it doesn't.
I remain on the fence with Straub, and such was my response to this book. I didn't care all that much for Blue Rose, despite its significant contribution to the lore of Straub's Blue Rose series (of which I have only read, and quite liked, the first novel). The Juniper Tree, about a boy who is sexually molested numerous times in a cinema, is too obscene and gratuitously graphic for my liking. Once, I'm sure it would have given me a thrill, reading such fucked up shit as an angsty teenager or young adult, but now being the father of a little boy myself, it was very hard to stomach. I get that you're supposed to be repulsed by it, but I don't know ... I just cannot get with any writer's decision to be so disgustingly lurid about such a horrible subject. I have to say what my wife used to say to me, whenever we argued about the more extreme content in this genre of fiction: it really wasn't necessary to go so far, and a more skilled or mature writer might have taken a subtler path. Just my opinion.
The Buffalo Hunter, once I was able to settle into the story, was excellent. And I loved about the first quarter of Mrs. God. Once it got all supernatural and complicated, I kind of tuned out though. And what is it with Peter Straub and ridiculous-sounding titles? Mrs God? That's nearly up there with The Throat and Mr. X. Hell, even Lost Boy Lost Girl, for all its brilliance as a novel, annoys me in its insistent lack of a comma midway through the title.
In short, I probably wouldn't say Houses without Doors is a mixed bag. There isn't enough variety of content for that. It's a bag you will either have little time for, or you will really dig it, depending on how you feel about the writer. As much as one can be a middle-of-the-road type with Peter Straub (to somewhat undermine what I said in the previous sentence), I guess that would define where I am with him.
Koko is good but long. Ghost Story is overrated and long. Sides (not a novel) is self-indulgent. Lost Boy Lost Girl is brilliant and perfectly paced. This is just ...
I remain on the fence with Straub, and such was my response to this book. I didn't care all that much for Blue Rose, despite its significant contribution to the lore of Straub's Blue Rose series (of which I have only read, and quite liked, the first novel). The Juniper Tree, about a boy who is sexually molested numerous times in a cinema, is too obscene and gratuitously graphic for my liking. Once, I'm sure it would have given me a thrill, reading such fucked up shit as an angsty teenager or young adult, but now being the father of a little boy myself, it was very hard to stomach. I get that you're supposed to be repulsed by it, but I don't know ... I just cannot get with any writer's decision to be so disgustingly lurid about such a horrible subject. I have to say what my wife used to say to me, whenever we argued about the more extreme content in this genre of fiction: it really wasn't necessary to go so far, and a more skilled or mature writer might have taken a subtler path. Just my opinion.
The Buffalo Hunter, once I was able to settle into the story, was excellent. And I loved about the first quarter of Mrs. God. Once it got all supernatural and complicated, I kind of tuned out though. And what is it with Peter Straub and ridiculous-sounding titles? Mrs God? That's nearly up there with The Throat and Mr. X. Hell, even Lost Boy Lost Girl, for all its brilliance as a novel, annoys me in its insistent lack of a comma midway through the title.
In short, I probably wouldn't say Houses without Doors is a mixed bag. There isn't enough variety of content for that. It's a bag you will either have little time for, or you will really dig it, depending on how you feel about the writer. As much as one can be a middle-of-the-road type with Peter Straub (to somewhat undermine what I said in the previous sentence), I guess that would define where I am with him.
Koko is good but long. Ghost Story is overrated and long. Sides (not a novel) is self-indulgent. Lost Boy Lost Girl is brilliant and perfectly paced. This is just ...
April 30, 2023
ocr:
p22: You'll still really be awake, but nice and .relaxed.
p24: The attic seemed hot as the inside of a furnace .to Harry.
p27: "...When you hear me say 'Blue rose/ you will go right to sleep, just the way you are now, and we can make you stronger again...."
p36: He checked the underside of his collar for maybe the fifth time that evening, and felt the long thin shaft of the pearl-headed hat pin he had stopped reading Murder, Incorporated long enough to smuggle out of Maryrose's bedroom after she had left for work.
p48: When he had counted down to 'W, he stood up and left the bedroom.
p51: Maryrose marched forward, bent and picked up a random piece ,of clay with thumb and forefinger as if using tweezers, dropped it, and turned away before it struck.
p63: Her long rapid strides had taken her well past .the fat man's grocery cart.
p66: First of all I want you to miss you, my darling, and that if I ever get out of this beautiful and terrible country, which I am going to do, that I am going to chase you mercilessly and unrelentingly until you say that you'11 marry me.
p67: When I look back, in college! was such a jerk.
p69: You can stop worrying now and start thinking about being married to a. Columbia Law student with one hell of a good future.
p95: When I dropped the comic book and closed my eyes, the noises ceased and 1 could hear the hovering stillness of perfect attention.
p103: Its' rooms are hung with mediocre paintings before which schoolchildren are led on tours by their teachers, most of whom were educated in our local school system.
p122: Depending on the time of the day, the drink Bunting might choose to go with New Gun in Town or Saddles and Sagebrush could be herbal tea, orange juice, warm milk, Tab or Pepsi-Cola, mineral water: should he be not enabled to' take in such pleasurable and harmless liquids without removing his eye from the page?
p124: The plastic cap twirled gracefully down over the molded 0 of the bottle's mouth.
p127: You look at those top models in the newspaper ads, the ones with long dark hair and full lips, and you'll see how graceful Veronica . is.
p127: And she has shown me so much of the life and excitement of this town, the ins and outs of having fun in the Big Apple--/ really think this is going to last, and one fine day V11 probably pop the question!
p144: hat night he ate a microwaved Lean Cuisine dinner and divided his attention between the evening news on his television set and the array of freshly washed bottles on both sides of it.
p145: t Bunting pulled coffee, then cognac, into his mouth, and let the little pink Ama dangle from his mouth while he wrote.
p154: The light in the corridor seemed darker than it should have been, and in the lobby two teenage boys who had stayed up all night sucking on crack pipes and potting crimes shared a thin hand-rolled cigarette beside the dying fern.
p156: All about him were creatures of another species, more animal, more instinctual,, more brutal than he.
p183: Everything glows\ In paintings too, don't you suppose?
p185: "...And when I came home, I drove and drove, I kept seeing Kellogg's and the sanitarium, but I never knew where I was and so I had to keep driving, and then, like a miracle, I saw I was turning into our street, and I was so mad at him I swore I'd .never ever go to that doctor again."
p195: Monday.to Monday.
p196: ".../ can't do anything about it, Bobby...."
p208: On Friday morning, Bunting awake with tears in his wyes for the wounded angel, the angel beyond help, and realized with a .shock of alarm that he was in someone else's house.
p215: Few people bothered to look any nore at the photographs of poets and novelists who had been regular patrons once, or at the pictures of boxers and anonymous show-business people who had also been regulars, though at another time.
p258: There was another chest-high bookshelf, this one filled with what appeared to be a complete set of the writings of Winston / Churchill.
p278: "Wonderful, great," Standish said,.
p280: "It's in the first recess,. straight through and on the right."
p282: The last few books, thrust in almost carelessly, were Lunch Poems\ The Tennis Court Oath, and Anglo-Saxon Attitudes.
p282: It was a wide alcove' stacked with bookshelves on both sides. The vaulted ceiling in th,e recess was patterned with plaster pineapples, candlesticks, and scrolls.
p283: Standish deciphered the words /, project, impossible.
p289: From the pond it looked less ugly, more like the prosperous merchant-landowner's house it had been before Edith had turned it into a sort of ate colony.
p300: The entire room seemed poised to strike at .him.
p304: She had married a second cousin with the same surname, a man uninterested in either the arts or country life and far more devoted to French brandy, Italian women, and the House of Commons than to his family: yet he had given her five children, three of whom had died in their earliest years.
p307: "Around eighteen fifty, .maybe a bit earlier," Standish said.
p312: A superstitious vicar in. a stained cassock could not hope to understand it.
p325: But I don't know how much I should say, because I don't know how mad you'11 get.
p326: William, I don't ever want any of ' that to ever happen again, I'm not going to lose this baby, you can bank on that, but it's just as important that you take care of yourself.
p328: Chattering, impudent ghosts--full of spurious accidental "life," some of them diseased, some of them coughing .into their fists, some of them as drunk as Jeremy Starger, some as prissy as Chester Ridgeley, some men always pawing at woman's breasts, touching touching, some women glancing always at men's fly buttons, in secret touching, like Jean Standish on the other side of an upstairs window in Popham.
p341: His sly drunken face proclaimed / deserve more, I need more.
cement:
p73: In the mornings he went to the job site hardened like cement into anger he barely knew he had.
p92: My arms and legs were cast in cement; they were lifeless and would not move.
p109: Further on stand the high cement walls of several breweries.
p112: Each morning there is more pedestrian traffic on the viaduct, in the frozen mornings men (mainly men) come with their lunches in paper bags, walking slowly along the cement walkway, not looking at one another, barely knowing what they are doing, looking down over the edge of the viaduct, looking away, dawdling, finally leaning like fishermen against the railing, waiting until they can no longer delay going to their jobs.
p206: He was walking through a landscape of vacant lots and cement walls in a city street that might have been New York or Battle Creek.
p300: A lower, narrower hallway led to an open door to a tiny cement room in which a greasy armchair two feet high sat beneath a hanging light bulb.
p336: The other locked door stood across the cement corridor.
p337: Before the back wall the cement floor was scuffed, as if a heavy piece of equipment had stood there a long time.
Peter's first short story collection. The first story hit hard as hell.
p22: You'll still really be awake, but nice and .relaxed.
p24: The attic seemed hot as the inside of a furnace .to Harry.
p27: "...When you hear me say 'Blue rose/ you will go right to sleep, just the way you are now, and we can make you stronger again...."
p36: He checked the underside of his collar for maybe the fifth time that evening, and felt the long thin shaft of the pearl-headed hat pin he had stopped reading Murder, Incorporated long enough to smuggle out of Maryrose's bedroom after she had left for work.
p48: When he had counted down to 'W, he stood up and left the bedroom.
p51: Maryrose marched forward, bent and picked up a random piece ,of clay with thumb and forefinger as if using tweezers, dropped it, and turned away before it struck.
p63: Her long rapid strides had taken her well past .the fat man's grocery cart.
p66: First of all I want you to miss you, my darling, and that if I ever get out of this beautiful and terrible country, which I am going to do, that I am going to chase you mercilessly and unrelentingly until you say that you'11 marry me.
p67: When I look back, in college! was such a jerk.
p69: You can stop worrying now and start thinking about being married to a. Columbia Law student with one hell of a good future.
p95: When I dropped the comic book and closed my eyes, the noises ceased and 1 could hear the hovering stillness of perfect attention.
p103: Its' rooms are hung with mediocre paintings before which schoolchildren are led on tours by their teachers, most of whom were educated in our local school system.
p122: Depending on the time of the day, the drink Bunting might choose to go with New Gun in Town or Saddles and Sagebrush could be herbal tea, orange juice, warm milk, Tab or Pepsi-Cola, mineral water: should he be not enabled to' take in such pleasurable and harmless liquids without removing his eye from the page?
p124: The plastic cap twirled gracefully down over the molded 0 of the bottle's mouth.
p127: You look at those top models in the newspaper ads, the ones with long dark hair and full lips, and you'll see how graceful Veronica . is.
p127: And she has shown me so much of the life and excitement of this town, the ins and outs of having fun in the Big Apple--/ really think this is going to last, and one fine day V11 probably pop the question!
p144: hat night he ate a microwaved Lean Cuisine dinner and divided his attention between the evening news on his television set and the array of freshly washed bottles on both sides of it.
p145: t Bunting pulled coffee, then cognac, into his mouth, and let the little pink Ama dangle from his mouth while he wrote.
p154: The light in the corridor seemed darker than it should have been, and in the lobby two teenage boys who had stayed up all night sucking on crack pipes and potting crimes shared a thin hand-rolled cigarette beside the dying fern.
p156: All about him were creatures of another species, more animal, more instinctual,, more brutal than he.
p183: Everything glows\ In paintings too, don't you suppose?
p185: "...And when I came home, I drove and drove, I kept seeing Kellogg's and the sanitarium, but I never knew where I was and so I had to keep driving, and then, like a miracle, I saw I was turning into our street, and I was so mad at him I swore I'd .never ever go to that doctor again."
p195: Monday.to Monday.
p196: ".../ can't do anything about it, Bobby...."
p208: On Friday morning, Bunting awake with tears in his wyes for the wounded angel, the angel beyond help, and realized with a .shock of alarm that he was in someone else's house.
p215: Few people bothered to look any nore at the photographs of poets and novelists who had been regular patrons once, or at the pictures of boxers and anonymous show-business people who had also been regulars, though at another time.
p258: There was another chest-high bookshelf, this one filled with what appeared to be a complete set of the writings of Winston / Churchill.
p278: "Wonderful, great," Standish said,.
p280: "It's in the first recess,. straight through and on the right."
p282: The last few books, thrust in almost carelessly, were Lunch Poems\ The Tennis Court Oath, and Anglo-Saxon Attitudes.
p282: It was a wide alcove' stacked with bookshelves on both sides. The vaulted ceiling in th,e recess was patterned with plaster pineapples, candlesticks, and scrolls.
p283: Standish deciphered the words /, project, impossible.
p289: From the pond it looked less ugly, more like the prosperous merchant-landowner's house it had been before Edith had turned it into a sort of ate colony.
p300: The entire room seemed poised to strike at .him.
p304: She had married a second cousin with the same surname, a man uninterested in either the arts or country life and far more devoted to French brandy, Italian women, and the House of Commons than to his family: yet he had given her five children, three of whom had died in their earliest years.
p307: "Around eighteen fifty, .maybe a bit earlier," Standish said.
p312: A superstitious vicar in. a stained cassock could not hope to understand it.
p325: But I don't know how much I should say, because I don't know how mad you'11 get.
p326: William, I don't ever want any of ' that to ever happen again, I'm not going to lose this baby, you can bank on that, but it's just as important that you take care of yourself.
p328: Chattering, impudent ghosts--full of spurious accidental "life," some of them diseased, some of them coughing .into their fists, some of them as drunk as Jeremy Starger, some as prissy as Chester Ridgeley, some men always pawing at woman's breasts, touching touching, some women glancing always at men's fly buttons, in secret touching, like Jean Standish on the other side of an upstairs window in Popham.
p341: His sly drunken face proclaimed / deserve more, I need more.
cement:
p73: In the mornings he went to the job site hardened like cement into anger he barely knew he had.
p92: My arms and legs were cast in cement; they were lifeless and would not move.
p109: Further on stand the high cement walls of several breweries.
p112: Each morning there is more pedestrian traffic on the viaduct, in the frozen mornings men (mainly men) come with their lunches in paper bags, walking slowly along the cement walkway, not looking at one another, barely knowing what they are doing, looking down over the edge of the viaduct, looking away, dawdling, finally leaning like fishermen against the railing, waiting until they can no longer delay going to their jobs.
p206: He was walking through a landscape of vacant lots and cement walls in a city street that might have been New York or Battle Creek.
p300: A lower, narrower hallway led to an open door to a tiny cement room in which a greasy armchair two feet high sat beneath a hanging light bulb.
p336: The other locked door stood across the cement corridor.
p337: Before the back wall the cement floor was scuffed, as if a heavy piece of equipment had stood there a long time.
Peter's first short story collection. The first story hit hard as hell.
September 29, 2022
First read of 2021. Second Peter Straub read. This was a collection of short stories/novellas. I feel like with Peter Straub when he is good he is great but sometimes he can be to wordy, for my taste. I loved Blue Rose, The Juniper Tree and The Buffalo Hunter. 4 star reads! A Quick Guide to the City and Something about a death, Something about a fire were just OK. 2 Stars. The 1 to 2 page stories mixed in between were interesting and I didn’t mind them and got better as the book went on, 3 stars. The novella Mrs. God was not my cup of tea and I sadly could not finish it. I tried listening to it on audiobook but it just was boring to me and still DNFd it. But that being said I still think that this collection is worthy of a read but Straub is definitely not for everyone.
July 18, 2008
This collection of Straub's stories is really not a horror collection, although there is some true life horror here. It's really just a set of incredible stories, several of which seem to have a heavy autobiographical element. Straub is a fine writer, as good as any literary giant out there. This book is the proof.
November 7, 2012
Almost done with this book. I am really not sure I would read another Peter Straub book. I might try one more.... I did not like the endings to most of the stories in this one.
I like authors that leave some things to the imagination, but there was just no resolution at all in many of these. I also like "strange" stories, but some things were just too out of the blue even for me.
I like authors that leave some things to the imagination, but there was just no resolution at all in many of these. I also like "strange" stories, but some things were just too out of the blue even for me.
August 11, 2011
Unos relatos muy malos, tan fantasiosos y/o liados que no acababas de entenderlos o disfrutarlos.
Me costó mucho acabarme el libro y tuve que descansar entre relato y relato.
Me defraudó mucho este autor con cierto renombre y del cual había leido como mucho algún relato suelto.
Me costó mucho acabarme el libro y tuve que descansar entre relato y relato.
Me defraudó mucho este autor con cierto renombre y del cual había leido como mucho algún relato suelto.
May 4, 2018
This is supposed to be horror short story collection (13 tales to be exact). Imagine reaching 60% and I have read only the 3 of them which not a horror at all. Buffalo Hunter is particularly boring and too long. Maybe next time, Straub.
October 20, 2007
A good collection of weird and creepy short fiction.
June 3, 2008
Weird stories... but weird not in a good way. I had a hard time finishing it.
November 27, 2008
it is pointless and waste of time
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