Things that go bump... in the basement
Things that go bump... in the basement
J. W. Ocker's The Smashed Man, a whole lot of horror movies, and a little bit more.
How goes it, friends?
At the moment, I feel like I might just keep reading and watching horror forever, and be perfectly content with that? It’s scratching some kind of itch, but I haven’t identified the whats or hows or whys of the scratching OR of the itch.
I hope that you’re able to find some way of feeling similarly cozy, regardless of the weather where you are.
Reading: The Smashed Man of Dread End, by J. W. Ocker
On the day that she and her family move into their new house, Noe Wiley is met by a welcoming committee comprised of all of the other kids who live on the same cul-de-sac. But this is not your usual welcoming committee—these kids, Noe’s new neighbors, they aren’t there to deliver cookies.
They’re there to deliver a warning.
They tell her not to go into her basement at night.
They tell her to keep her little sister out of the basement at night.
And then they scatter.
That’s it.
So, what does Noe do?
Well, she does the thing that people have done for as long as we’ve told one another horror stories: She ignores the warning.
And, because such is the way of horror stories, she realizes that she should’ve listened.
Later, she demands answers. But no one has them:
“I didn’t say I wanted to be one of you,” said Noe.
“It’s not up to you,” said Radiah. “As long as you live on Dread End. As long as you live above the Smashed Man. As long as every day is a bad one because you know there’s a monster in your basement that no adult can protect you from . . . whether you like it or not, you’re one of us.”
“None of us like it,” said Crystal.
“I just need an explanation,” said Noe.
“Can’t give you that,” said Radiah, leaning forward on the rock. “Like I said, we call him the Smashed Man. And we have no idea who he is. We don’t know where he comes from. He’s just always there. Anytime you go into the basement at night, he’s there, oozing out of the cracks, staring at us like he wants to eat us alive or rip us apart.”
These kids are exhausted.
They’ve been living in fear—with constant, ongoing trauma—for years. They can’t count on any of the adults in their lives, because the adults can’t see the danger that is LITERALLY in their houses.
They’re scared, they’re tense, they’re angry, they’re frustrated. They’re grieving.
And they’re resigned to living like this until they’re old enough to somehow age out of the danger.
Not Noe, though. She hasn’t been a Dread Ender long enough to have given up.
And she’s sure of one thing: When it comes to monsters, there are rules. Rules that dictate what they can and can’t do; rules that provide a framework for defeating the monster. It’s just a matter of figuring out what the Smashed Man’s rules are.
[Side note: Maybe this is what’s scratching the itch? Monsters have rules. There is almost always some sort of logic. So often, the real world feels like it doesn’t have either? So, yay, horror, for letting us engage with our fears and for giving us a framework to work through them… or at the very least, figure out how to live with them.]
There’s so much to like here! It’s the first time in a long time—or ever, but that seems like too broad a statement to make on the fly?—that I’ve run across a horror story that really acknowledges the weight of CONSTANT FEAR. And it’s not hard to extrapolate that out to thinking about real life, and the different kinds of constant, daily fear that so many of us live with. Not to be a downer or anything. Oof.
Anyway, Ocker does some interesting world-building, too. I love the idea of a monster that’s confined to a neighborhood, but that can move from house to house to house? Later on, he introduces ideas about where the Smashed Man comes from, but ALSO the Smashed Man’s original point of origin—and spoiler, it’s really satisfyingly, shiveringly dark.
On a personal note, I loved Noe’s description of her basement…
But it was the walls of the basement that really creeped her out.
They were built of giant rough slabs of rock, each one almost as big as Len. It reminded her of Egyptian pyramid stones, except gray, with rough contours that looked like they’d been shaped with ancient tools. A thin line of cement kept them all together, although alarming cracks wended their way through the rocks and mortar like rivers on a map.
…because she is literally describing my basement. So now, every time I go down there, I’ll be thinking about the Smashed Man.
But I’ll be fine, because A) I’m an adult, so I won’t see him, and B) I NEVER GO INTO THE BASEMENT AT NIGHT, ARE YOU KIDDING???
Watching: Yes, still more horror!
At the moment that I’m writing this, I’m seventeen movies into my 61 Horror Movies in 61 Days challenge—I’m adding them to this list as I watch them—and two movies and two days into the annual Hooptober challenge.
Here are the highlights from this batch:
Mirror Mirror (Marina Sargenti, 1990): Clearly influenced by Beetlejuice, Poltergeist, and Heathers—and I’d be very very surprised if it didn’t, in turn, influence The Craft—this one is ABSOLUTELY worth a watch! Female director, female screenwriters, largely female cast—it’s surprisingly character-driven and apparently there are at least three sequels, which I’m GUESSING are not nearly as strong, but you’d better believe that I’ll be tracking them down. ALSO! Features performances from Karen Black! Stephen Tobolowsky! William Sanderson (WITH A PONYTAIL, WHAT???)! Yvonne De Carlo! Amazing. Watched on Tubi.
The Velvet Vampire (Stephanie Rothman, 1971): DUNE! BUGGY! RIDING! LADY! VAMPIRE! If you watch this one and you like the hats and the clothes and the general amazing 70sness of it all, give The Love Witch and Daughters of Darkness a try, you’d probably like those as well. (Ahhhh, now I want to just sit down and watch all three of them back-to-back.) Watched on Tubi.
Manhattan Baby (Lucio Fulci, 1982): Yeah, so this one made very little sense, but I loved every second of it, including the lengthy (and disgusting) sequence where an antiques dealer gets pecked to death by a bunch of taxidermied birds. Bonus: The little brother is played by the same kid who played Bob in House by the Cemetery, who is such an iconically annoying character that Josh and I quote him CONSTANTLY around the house. He rules. Watched on Tubi.
A few links:
ABC: Central York School District reverses book ban after growing protests.
Twitter: Full list of banned materials.
EW: Mexican Gothic author Silvia Moreno-Garcia shares what fans can expect from Hulu series. (Old article, but new to me, I had no idea it was being adapted!!)
The winners of the 2021 Ignyte Awards have been announced.
The Young People’s longlist for the 2021 National Book Awards has been announced.
Added to my TBR: What Lives in the Woods, by Lindsey Currie.
Added to my TBR: Amari and the Night Brothers, by B.B. Alston.
Added to my TBR: When the Reckoning Comes, by LaTanya McQueen. (Also in this round-up: Daughters Unto Devils, which RULES.)
Here for recommendations, as always!
More soon,
Leila