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Marvick tricks us with a little sleight-of-hand by entitling this story "Of Interactive Surveillance and the Circular Firing Squad" when this story of music, suffering, summoning, an innocence has nothing obvious to do with the title. But there are hidden symbols in the title, which I will not reveal. The story feels "loose" and "rambly," until the final scene, where it ties off in a spectacular frisson. Five stars.

Okay, a section, "Horror Beyond Description" composed of . . . descriptions. Or at least descriptions in the form of Peak's thoughts on the subject. Should be interesting.

I am beginning to think that no one, NO ONE can map out a dreamlike vision like Machen. I am immersed in his worlds in a way I have not felt in a very, very long time. Time stops as I'm reading this book, and I am wont to lazily wander, without direction, and without a care in the world. It is an amazing, hypnotizing place to get lost and terrifying when one realizes the implications of being lost therein.

I shall have to find and read Jann's The Night of Lead. This sounds like an essential work of existentialism that I am completely unfamiliar with, though the excerpts provided here feel familiar, to some degree, as if I've had those visions fuzzy in my mind's eye, but have failed to bring them in to the light, so to speak.

"Maculate Vision" is a weird tale where the denouement comes before the climax, a difficult and brilliant literary trick for such a strange tale. Supporting characters come to the forefront and the plot of the arc is not what the reader would expect at all. Of course, the writing is beautiful, which sustains interest through the meanderings of the plot, especially as one approaches the striking end. Five stars.

Lucian's self-exile and denial of all sociality ironically has the seed in it (through his experience) of a great artistic work. By his distancing himself, but observing sociality, without engaging in it, he preserves his time and efforts for his art, while gaining (painful) insight that informs his work. This is, to some extent, the writer's quandry. To be or to write, but one must see being to write.

The section on "Transformers" draws upon my favorite Junji Ito story "The Enigma of Amigara Fault" to demonstrate how this content hole can be extrapolated into the general frisson of one's experience of time's passage, where we are constricted and reshaped in our inevitable journey toward death.

Ah, portals, etc. The actual, physical holes in reality. Good stuff I wish was elaborated on a bit more.

What did the woman see? Lucian's inability to comprehend the reason for the horror of the woman who had looked st him and cried out is the true horror. Something about himself, something terrifying to others, is being hidden from him.

I have heard decidedly mixed reviews about the movie "In the Mouth of Madness," but after having read Peak's summation and analysis, it has become a must-see for me.

I don't know how I am going to review this book, but I must say that it has sparked off so many ideas, ruminations, and doubts in my mind as a writer that this may be one of the best books on writing I've ever read. And it's not a book about writing at all. I will have to revisit this book again and again and set it near my dictionary, thesaurus, and other reference books I use for writing. Incredible.

I love the idea, briefly touched on here in relation to the movie Blowup, that the closer we try to examine something from a distance, the blurrier it gets. That is good insight that one must keep in mind when constructing horror. This may be the best book about writing that is not about writing that I've read in quite some time. Insights galore.

Machen picks at the emotional scabs of the difficulties presented by writing, not by "writer's block" but by the frequently returning dis-satisfaction that inevitably occurs after one has found some success in writing. It's a harrowing place where each writer has to confront their own inadequacies and weaknesses. Writing is, more often than not, painful. I'm in the midst of that myself right now, in fact.

This book is giving me enough to think about that I am pausing the writing of a short story currently underway in order to meditate on how I am engaging the potential reader. That is, what aspect(s) of horror (internal or external, for example) affect my characters and why are they affected by them? This is causing me a deep dive in my thoughts about my own fiction writing, which is unexpected and fantastic.

The section on extra-dimensionality is outstanding and makes clear something that has been in the back of my mind (in a pocket dimension?) for some time, but Peak makes it explicit. I'm surprised, though, that he doesn't reference House of Leaves here as an example.

Good analysis thus far, and Peak draws from Brian Evenson's work as his first example of communication failure at the root of horror. Great choice!

"Is for Ilinx" is a precarious story, set on the edge of a blade, both structurally and thematically. Thankfully, it balances there just so, where such a tale could lose balance and falter, with fatal results for everyone involved.

David Southwell gives a 30,000 foot-view of "Landscape Punk" and calls on us to become the cunning people in his inspiring essay "Re-enchantment is Resistance".

Verity Holloway pens an art history/archaeology/anthropology crossover essay about the St. Peter & St. Paul medieval church located in Bardwell UK in her essay "The King of Terrors". An excellent piece of local history, but much more than that, this is the sort of cross-disciplinary work the intellectual world needs more of.

"The Ritual of the Hearts," by Mercedes Miller, gives some context to M.R. Jame's story "Lost Hearts" with a bit of speculation on whom the villain Mr. Abney may have been modeled after.

I love that each of these articles is short enough to read in a brief amount of time, but "full" enough to keep the mind going long afterwards.

John Reppion's analysis of "The Bodies in the Bog" is a carefully-reasoned essay regarding so-called Bog People, ancients whose remains are found well-preserved in peat moss deposits. I am impressed by the restraint and balance present here (and in the other essays, so far). Sensationalism is minimized, logic emphasized. This isn't fan fiction disguised as academic work. This is good, scholarly effort.

Ronald Hutton, historian of witchcraft, is interviewed in an enlightening Q&A regarding witches, witchcraft, and their place in modern social discourse.

Maria J. Perez Cuervo traces the emergence of the ties between fertility rites and folk horror in "From His Blood the Crops Would Spring" (name that TV show!). They are much more modern than you might think!

Again, I wonder how much of Machen is in Lucian. The writerly process, with all its frustration and wonder, can only be known by doing, and Machen waxes eloquent (yet sinply) when writing about Lucian's writing.

"Eye of Newt and Toe of Frog," written by Deedee Chainey, explores the . . . complicated relationships between witches, cunning folk, and animals. A great overview by one of the creators of Folklore Thursday.

Katy Soar's essay "The Bones of the Land" outlines the historical emergence of ideas that tie stone circles to ritual sacrifice. The connections are tenuous, mostly fiction spurred to life by Romantic writers, but there is some connection between these places and death, as evidenced by remains (sometimes cremated) at several of these sights. That connection may not involve human sacrifice, but there is a connection.

Lucian's response to Annie Morgan's marriage is commendable and more positive than the lovelost feelings I've had when broken-hearted. He viewed it all, from their relationship's beginning to end, as a sort of blessing, rather than a curse, that opened up doors to whole new worlds for him. I need to meditate on this (though I'm quite happily married now), on how to turn heartache into advantage. I admire Lucian.

So far, some of the most exquisite sustained writing I've read. No wonder Lovwcraft was so enamored of Machen.

Machen's Lucian here falls into reveries that are both physically and spiritually synesthetic. Differentiating between smell and symbol, fact and fantasy, has become nearly impossible, if not for Lucian's intentional forays back and forth over the borders of physical reality and dream. Machen's writing is a heady concoction.