New Century Reading

Mysteries of Udolpho and Northanger Abbey

Greetings! With that most sinister time of year nearly upon us (October), I, along with JoAnn and James, have a fun little reading project in mind, and hope you might like to join us. Starting Sept. 24, we're going to read Ann Radcliffe's classic Gothic novel, The Mysteries of Udolpho, through October, then read Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey. The latter is said to have been inspired--and somewhat mock--the former. Join us for one or the other, or both! Fall is a great time for Gothic.

Persuasion (and a recipe)

And so we have come to the last book in James' Jane Austen Read All A-Long. And it fittingly ended with a book that I very much liked--much better than ending with Emma or Northanger Abbey. In fact, if I were to rate these six books from the one I like best to the one I like least, the list would look like this:

1. Pride and Prejudice
   2. Persuasion
   3. Mansfield Park
   4. Sense and Sensibility
   5. Northanger Abbey
   6. Emma

So, Persuasion. It's the last novel Austen completed. And it has an "older and wiser" feel to it. According to the annotations in my copy, reviewers of her day had trouble with some of the morals she supported in this book--namely, that a young woman should be able to make up her own mind about who to marry, without having to give in to family who disagree.

For that's what this book is about. Anne Elliot was once engaged to Frederick Wentworth, but her father and close family friend Lady Russell greatly disapproved; Wentworth did not have good prospects or a solid family. However, after she broke off the engagement, Wentworth joined the navy and did very well for himself, securing a good societal status and a tidy fortune. Eight years later, their paths cross. Anne is still as miserable as the day they broke up, but bound by strict societal rules of the time, she has no way to let him know that, and in fact must watch as he appears to court another young woman.

This is Austen, so of course there's a happy ending. But knowing that Austen was bucking social mores with this book does give it a different feeling than the others. Not to mention there's the agony of having waited eight years for her soulmate, never knowing if it was even possible to return to him. It's a bit more melancholy in that way, and Anne is a softer heroine than some of her feistier counterparts (although more confident in herself than Fanny Price). 

It's interesting to look at Austen's books at this close range and see the common themes/characters throughout. There are always parents who are less than ideal, and siblings who are less than ideal, and social climbers, and cads wishing to commit all sorts of skullduggery with innocent women. The women who come out winning are those who stay true to themselves and their principals--a very modern concept after all. 

It's been fun. I'm not sorry to be done, though. While each book has different protagonists and antagonists, there are similarities across the books that no doubt reflect Austen's limited world view. That doesn't make them unenjoyable, just a bit repetitive after a while. I think I'm pretty well done with Emma, Sense and Sensibility, and--with one exception--Northanger Abbey; JoAnn and I have mused on Twitter about doing a Mysteries of Udolpho read-along next October, followed by Abbey, and I'd be up for that. 

But Pride and Prejudice, Persuasion, and Mansfield Park are all books I can see myself returning to again in the future. And now, finally, the last recipe I'm sharing from Dinner with Mr. Darcy:

Mince Pies

For the Mincemeat
Scant 1/2 cup suet, shredded
7 ounce apples, cored and chopped
1 heaping cup raisins
Heaping 1 1/2 cup currants
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 tsp ground mace
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp nutmeg
3 tbsp brandy
3 tbsp sherry

For the Pie
Double batch of shortcrust pastry (recipe follows)
A neat's tongue (beef or ox tongue) or about 1 1/4 cups boiled beef or tongue, chopped small (optional)
Scant 1/2 cup candied peel
Zest of 1 orange
Juice of 1/2 lemon or 1/2 orange
2 tbsp red wine

1. Make the mincemeat by mixing together the suet, apples, dried fruit, sugar, spices, brand, and sherry.
2. Preheat the oven to 400F.
3. Line a pie dish with shortcrust pastry, then add the following: a thin layer of meat; a thin layer of citron (candied peel will do); a good layer of mincemeat; a layer of thinly cut orange zest; ending with a thin layer of meat.
4. Mix together the juice of half a lemon or half an orange with 2 tablespoons of red wine and sprinkle this over, before covering with a pastry lid.
5. Bake for 25-35 minutes.

Shortcrust Pastry

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
Pinch of salt
Scant stick unsalted butter (cold from the fridge)
2-3 tbsp cold water

1. Put the flour and salt into a bowl.
2. Add the cold butter, then chop it with a knife until each piece of butter is as small as you can make it; along the way, make sure the butter pieces are thoroughly coated in flour. When you can chop no more, rub it in using just your fingertips; this keeps the mixture from becoming too warm, which may make it dense. Sprinkle in 2 tablespoons of cold water and mix it with a knife until it clumps together. Add a little more water if necessary. Bring it together with your hands to make a smooth dough, but don't knead it.
3. Cover it with plastic wrap and let it rest in the fridge for 20 minutes before using.
4. When you are ready to use it, roll it out to an even thickness on a lightly floured surface.

Northanger Abbey (and a recipe)

As Jane Austen's books go, this is neither my favorite nor my most hated. I suspect I'd have enjoyed it more if I was familiar with The Mysteries of Udolpho, the book which I believe Austen was parodying in Northanger Abbey. As it is, I did get some of the humor, but I'm sure I missed a great deal. The book itself isn't as strong as other Austen works; the pacing is off--it's painfully slow in the beginning, then very rushed at the end. It also has some curious aspects not seen in her other works, especially that she leaves several secondary characters hanging at the end, rather than providing readers with information as to what happened to them. 

That said, it was a quick read, and since Udolpho looks like a perfect October read, I'll hang onto my copy of Abbey; maybe next year I'll read them back to back, and get more out of the latter.

In the meantime, onto our last Austen book--Persuasion--and as usual, here's a Northanger Abbey-inspired recipe from Dinner with Mr. Darcy.  

Sally Lunns

1/4 ounce active dried yeast
2 tbsp superfine (caster) sugar
2 eggs plus optional extra egg white for glazing
Generous 1 1/4 cups cream or milk
1 pound strong bread flour
1 tsp salt (optional--not in original, but we find yeast buns very bland without it)
Butter or clotted cream, to serve

1. Blend the yeast with the sugar and beat it thoroughly with the eggs and cream. Sift in the flour and salt (if using) to make a dough that is smooth, but not sticky (add a little milk if it feels too dry).
2. Knead it on a floured surface for about 10 minutes until it feels elastic. Put it back in the bowl, cover with a clean dish towel and let it rise for 1 1/2 hours.
3. Punch the air out of the dough and divide it into 6 cakes (you may find it helpful to flour your hands). Lay the cakes on a greased baking sheet.
4. Cover and let them rise again until double in size--30 minutes to 1 hour.
5. Preheat the oven to 400F. Glaze the cakes with egg white or milk if you fancy it, and bake for 12-15 minutes.
6. Serve with butter or clotted cream.

Emma and a Recipe

We have reached part 4 of James' six-month Austen binge. Last month, you may recall, I found myself very pleasantly surprised by my first-ever reading of Mansfield Park. This month, however, I took on my second reading (first was many, many years ago) of Emma. I remember liking it a lot, all those years ago.

But things change. This time around? Lord, what a slog. It goes on and on and on and ON AND ON AND ON. It's filled with the fussy, irritating side characters that Austen does so well, but she bestows so many pages on them in this book that they cease to be amusing. I could hardly stand one more of Mr. Woodhouse's silly ruminations about illness or Miss Bates' ramblings about nothing or Mrs. Elton's self-aggrandizing conversations. 

Worst of all, though, is I simply did not care for Emma Woodhouse. I didn't enjoy her company. Yeah, she learned a few things in the book and grew up a little, but not nearly enough for my taste. She's a spoiled, self-centered young woman who thinks very highly of herself. I'd much rather spend time with Fanny Price than Miss Woodhouse.

I think it's safe to say I won't revisit this book again.

But in the meantime, while I wait for November's book (Northanger Abbey), here's an Emma recipe for Dinner with Mr. Darcy.

Roast Loin of Pork with Onions

3 1/2 pound loin of pork
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 tsp vinegar
1-2 tsp olive oil
2 1/4 pound onions
1 tbsp good wine vinegar
2 tsp Dijon mustard or 1 tsp English mustard

1. Preheat the oven to 425F.
2. Score the skin of the pork, rub it with salt, pepper, and a little vinegar and olive oil, and roast in a large roasting pan for 20 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, peel and slice the onions into thin rings. After 20 minutes, reduce the oven heat to 325F. Take the pork out of the oven and transfer to a plate, add a little olive oil to the pan and put it back in the oven for 5 minutes to heat. Then add the onion rings, stirring them so they separate into rings and get coated in oil. Put the pork back into the pan and roast for an additional 25 minutes per each pound.
4. The onions should cook very slowly and become deliciously sweet and sticky. Stir them from time to time, and add a tablespoon of water if they are starting to brown too early, or are looking dry.
5. When the pork is done, take it out of the oven, cover with foil, and let it rest for 10-15 minutes. Lift the onions into a saucepan, leaving the fat behind in the roasting pan for gravy. Put the saucepan over low heat and let the onions finish cooking for 10 minutes, then add the wine vinegar and mustard, and cook for another 3-4 minutes.
6. To serve, carve the pork into thick slices, and put the onions in a serving dish to let people help themselves.

 

Mansfield Park and a recipe

And we're back for the third of the six months of Jane Austen!

Unlike the first two installments of this read-along, Mansfield Park was a new-to-me book. I thought myself very clever by requesting this annotated edition from the library. Before I jump into my thoughts on the story itself, let me offer a cautionary note: For me, at least, annotated editions are probably best saved for a subsequent reading. As in, I should maybe have read Mansfield Park a couple of times to know the characters and the story overall before diving into the minutiae of the annotations. It slowed me waaaaaaay down and disrupted the reading, and about halfway through I pretty much gave up on the side notes and just read the book. Although I did enjoy the many pieces of artwork included, so there's that.

Anyway. Mansfield Park has a very different heroine than the spirited Lizzy Bennet or the sensitive and sensible Dashwood sisters. Fanny Price is a timid mouse, one of many children in a family that can ill afford them, and a wealthier aunt and uncle decide to take her in. Fanny's female cousins look down on her, her uncle is stern, and her aunt a bit--by today's parlance--ditzy. However, her cousin Edmund is kind and takes Fanny under his wing, defends her when others treat her like a servant, and sees to it that she gets some taste of the upscale life that the rest of the household takes for granted. She's almost a character you'd find in Dickens, except written through Jane Austen's viewpoint.

Still, she never forgets her position, and so can't feel fully part of the household. And is it any surprise that she might develop some feelings for Edmund? Which is why she's taken aback and crestfallen when siblings Henry and Mary Crawford arrive for a stay at the nearby parsonage, and Mary makes no secret of her interest in Edmund. Henry, meantime, gets on a rather serious flirtation with Edmund's sister Maria, who is engaged to be married to a rather boring, albeit wealthy, chap.

True to Austen's way, there's much social commentary going on here, and pointed humor, and women with far too much time on their hands, and young women who can bring down their entire family with their behavior. Austen also gets in some tart observations on how a scandal between a man and woman tends to lead to harsher social consequences for the woman than the man. 

What I found different about this book when compared to the two we've already read is that Fanny is a mouse, and stays mousy, the whole way through. I know some readers don't like that. They want Lizzy Bennet's fire. But Lizzy's fire doesn't work with Fanny. And I felt so bad for Fanny, trying to maintain some equilibrium as a fish out of water, surrounded by people who like to remind her she's a fish out of water, and she should be darned thankful to be a fish out of water. There's an excruciating section where she gets to go home for an extended visit--but she no longer belongs there either. 

And then that devil Henry Crawford begins wooing her, but she sees right through him, and even though people on all sides urge her to accept his proposals, she remains pretty steadfast, long enough for his true colors to show themselves. In Austen's world (at least in the books I've read), the right matches get made, and the virtuous and steadfast in their convictions are rewarded, and this book is no different. But the final chapter is a departure from Austen's norm, in that she does a sweeping winding up of details through telling, and tells through the writer's voice. I'm still wrapping my mind around that and wondering why she did it. If you've read it, any thoughts?

Next month's book is Emma. And now, from Dinner with Mr. Darcy, a Mansfield Park recipe.

Jumbles

Makes approx. 20 cookies

1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 stick butter
1 cup light brown sugar
Zest of 1 lemon
1 egg, well beaten

Preheat the oven to 350. Sift the flour and baking powder into a bowl. Gently melt the butter over low heat, add the sugar and lemon zest. Whisk the egg into the butter mixture, then pour into the center of the flour, mixing well to combine the ingredients. Drop the mixture in heaping teaspoonsful onto well-buttered baking sheets, giving them plenty of room to spread out. Bake for 10-12 minutes.

 

Pride and Prejudice (and a recipe)

And we're back, with part 2 of James' six-month Jane Austen Read All A-Long. And oh, this month we read one of my favorite books ever, not to mention favorite of Jane Austen's:

I've read this book many times, and I still love it every time I read it, and still get so caught up in it that I find myself racing to the final pages, even though I certainly know how it ends. 

I love it from the very first sentence:

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."

I mean, c'mon. Look how much is packed into that sentence, and how beautifully it sets up the book. There's that arch tone that Austen was such a master of. It's got a formal, flowery-ness that clearly puts it in a different time than now. And it tells us what the roles of men and women were during that time.

And look how quickly and sharply she details the social "niceties" of a small village when Lydia Bennet, who nearly caused a huge scandal by running off with a gentleman, returns to town as his wife rather than a ruined woman: 

"To be sure it would have been more for the advantage of conversation, had Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town; or, as the happiest alternative, been secluded from the world, in some distant farm house. But there was much to be talked of, in marrying her; and the good-natured wishes for her well-doing, which had proceeded before, from all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton, lost but little of their spirit in this change of circumstances, because with such an husband, her misery was considered certain."

OUCH.

There is so much humor, often subtle yet also deeply sarcastic, that I frequently laughed out loud. Yet this book, like Sense and Sensibility, also has tinges of melancholy. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet have a marriage that has not worked out so well; the five Bennet sisters have little to look forward to in life, given that their home is entailed to a cousin, and they have no fortunes to make them attractive; that fate is further driven home by family friend Charlotte Lucas, making a marriage which, on paper, is a decent one, but condemns her to a life of being married to one of the most pompous asses that ever existed; they live in a time when the rebellious behavior of one sister could ruin the prospects of the other four permanently. I could go on and on. Even with a happy ending (c'mon, I'm not going to worry about spoiling a book this old), it's still clear that our heroine's family continues to be problematic for her, even if her own good marriage allows her to help their prospects a bit.

I haven't read all of Austen's books, and I've heard rumors that Persuasion might be her finest, which I'll find out when I read it later this fall. But for now? What a treat to return to this. Next month: Mansfield Park.

And now, as promised, a Pride and Prejudice-related recipe from Dinner with Mr. Darcy.

Newcastle Pickled Salmon

Author's note: "I like to imagine that Mrs. Bennet chose this recipe from Newcastle because her favorite daughter, Lydia, had been dispatched there with Wickham shortly before the date of this dinner [a special dinner to impress wealthy young men]. Mrs. Raffald specified "strong beer alegar" which is close to vinegar, and "long-pepper," which is a little hotter than black pepper."

2 1/4 cups pale ale (Newcastle Brown Ale is good and appropriate, but will color the fish slightly)
1 tsp sea salt
4 salmon fillets
2/3 cup white wine vinegar
1/2 tsp ground mace
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp black peppercorns
Long pepper, if you can find it, or a pinch of dried chili flakes
1 inch fresh ginger, sliced

1. Bring the ale, 1 1/4 cups water and the salt to a boil, and take the scum off the top. Put the fish skin-side down in the mixture, and poach lightly for 7-8 minutes, the carefully remove each fillet onto a plate, reserving the poaching liquid in a container. Leave in the fridge overnight.
2. The next day heat the ale and salt liquor in a pan, and add the vinegar, mace, cloves, peppercorns, long pepper or chili flakes, and ginger slices. Bring to a boil and simmer for 5 minutes. Put the salmon in a glass dish, and pour the hot liquid over, making sure the fish is fully covered.
3. Once it has cooled, put an airtight lid or plastic wrap over the dish, and keep in the fridge. It can be eaten after 3 days, and will keep for a week or more. Mrs. Raffald put hers in earthenware pots covered with strong brown paper, and says it will keep a whole year (but I wouldn't like to risk it).

 

 

 

Sense and Sensibility (and a recipe)

July marks the first month of James' six-month Jane Austen Read All A-Long. This month's kickoff book is Sense and Sensibility, which I read for the first time a few years ago and loved. This time around, though, I found it made me more melancholy. I still enjoyed it--no one can beat Austen for her rapier wit--but when you look at how the story reflects women's lives during that time period, well, it's kind of heartbreaking. Which is true for many of Austen's books (I don't say all because I haven't read them all, but hope to remedy that through this read-along).

If you haven't read it, Sense and Sensibility is the story of Elinor and Marianne Dashwood, sisters whose father died and left them at the mercy of their half brother. The half brother was instructed by the father to take care of the sisters, but his wife has other plans, and the Dashwood women, along with their mother and younger sister, end up being taken in by a relative elsewhere. Their outlook long-term is fairly bleak, as they have limited funds, and unless they can find spouses, they will end up lonely spinsters living in a cottage with their mother.

Of course, being Austen, this doesn't happen, although there are several twists and turns before they reach marital bliss. A big part of the story is about how impetuous, romantic Marianne has to mature and come to terms with reality. This is presented as a good thing, and of course maturing out of childish dreams isn't necessarily bad, and it prevents her from making a spectacularly bad match. 

But really, the best that these women can hope for is to find a husband. Period. 

I'm not criticizing Austen. I think she illuminates this time period very well. And as I mentioned before, her wit is dry as dust but much more entertaining:

"'Oh!' cried Marianne, 'with what transporting sensations have I formerly seen (autumn leaves at her former home) fall! How have I delighted, as I walked, to see them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, the season, the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off.'

"'It is not every one,' said Elinor, 'who has your passion for dead leaves.'"

I don't think this is Austen's best work, although it's certainly a good read. Next month we tackle Pride and Prejudice, which I have read multiple times (and seen in multiple screenings and on stage), and I'm anxious to get to that. But! In the meantime! I was recently given this book:

As the cover says, this is a recipe book inspired by Austen's work. That could be hokey or trite, but instead the author did her due diligence, researching recipes and cookbooks from Austen's time and finding matches for things mentioned in the novels. In many cases, she puts the text of the original recipe next to the updated version, as recipes certainly have evolved over the centuries. She also kindly notes that she avoided recipes with ingredients like fish heads. 

I thought it would be fun to include a recipe with each Austen post. The cookbook is broken into different chapters based on Austen's writings and has recipes for each novel in the read-along. So, in that spirit, here is a recipe for Sense and Sensibility, based on a character who tries to mend Marianne's broken heart with dried cherries, a recipe from Margaret Dods:

Cherries en Chemise

1 2/3 cups fresh ripe cherries with stems
1-2 egg whites
Confectioners' sugar or superfine sugar
For the meringue:
2 egg whites
1/4 cup superfine sugar

1. Take the cherries and cut off the stems with scissors, leaving about 1 inch to each cherry.
2. Beat an egg white until it is frothy, and roll the cherries in the egg and then in confectioners' sugar.
3. Place them on parchment paper, and let them dry at room temperature until the "frosting" adheres. They should keep for about a week.
4. They are too delicate to transport, though, so for a gift that will go in a box, make meringues to surround them. Beat the egg whites until they are stiff, and fold in the superfine sugar. Pile teaspoonsful of the mixture onto parchment paper, and place half a pitted cherry on top. Leave some uncovered, and cover some with another blog of meringue. Turn the oven to 225F. Give them 2 1/2-3 hours to dry out in the oven.

Bon appetit! See you next month for Pride and Prejudice.

Jane Austen Read-All-A-long

James is hosting a Jane Austen Read All A-Long, starting July 1st. He's going to read Austen's novels in order of publication, one per month. He's a congenial host who doesn't demand an all-or-nothing approach; if you feel like reading Pride and Prejudice or Emma and no other, he's cool with that. So if you're up for some Austen conversation, it'll be starting next month. I'm going to try and do all the books, but you know, sometimes life happens. So we shall see. There are a couple I've never read (bad Austen fan), so this might light a fire under me.

Anna Karenina

I just finished reading this with an online group. It's been decades since I last read it, right after graduating college. Then I loved it for the despair-filled romance between Anna and Vronsky. As I started reading it again, I worried; would Older Me still like this book? My tastes have changed, along with the amount of life experience I have, since I was in my 20s.

Well, good news for me--there's a reason this is a beloved classic. I was as captivated this time as the first time. But--captivated for entirely different reasons. While Anna and Vronsky were my obsession on first reading, this time I wasn't quite as interested. Not that I was bored, but this time I looked at their romance through the view of the times in which they lived. There was no way this was going to end well, not with the way women in particular were treated. And Vronsky may have loved her, but there were warning signs a modern woman could see a mile off saying there were going to be problems.

FYI, if for some reason you don't know the ending of this book, might want to stop reading. I usually try to avoid spoilers, but given that this was published in the late 1800s, I feel less restricted about that.

Anyway. What I had forgotten over the years--probably because I was so focused on Anna and Vronsky--was the parallel story of Levin and Kitty. Their story became the most interesting one for me, not least of which because it was so fraught with peril on its way to becoming a good marriage. Tolstoy did a masterful job of detailing and comparing the two relationships, tied by the fact that Kitty initially hoped to marry Vronsky, which humiliated Levin. He never lets Levin off easy or ties everything up in a neat bow, but by the end, Kitty and Levin have, through hard work, made their way towards a good marriage. They've also had a child (after a terrifying labor) and Tolstoy gets parenting, he really does; Levin finds, when he meets his new son, that it's not love he feels as much as fear, because now there's so much to lose. I think a whole lot of parents can identify with that. Levin's political ideals, the way he strives to run his farm both for profit but also in newer, kinder ways of dealing with peasants (whether the peasants want that or not) make him interesting and flawed and often sympathetic.

Which is not to say Anna and Vronsky don't have their moments. She's stuck in a boring marriage, and here comes Prince Charming. She gives up everything to be with him, but the sacrifice is more onerous than she fully understood. Especially in her day and time--society shunned her except for a very few brave souls, while her lover was still accepted in polite company. Her husband refused to divorce her, which meant she could not marry, and what's more, the child she has with Vronsky is considered her husband's, not hers. It's untenable. And as she begins taking opium to help her sleep, you can't help but know this won't end well.

Tolstoy is at his most masterful in the final scenes of Anna's life, which are borderline delirious. She's frazzled, losing her sanity, unable to determine whether she should stay or go. The death scene, when she throws herself under a train--well, if you either haven't read it, or read it lately, read it. Incredibly powerful and devastating.

From what little I know about Tolstoy, he sounds like he was a somewhat misogynistic, pompous, overly idealistic old goat who advocated abstinence but impregnated his wife 13 times, several of those against her will. And yet, look at his writing! Not just the scenes described above, but scenes like one where Anna receives a visitor at Vronsky's country estate, where she and Vronsky are hiding out basically. At first the poor visitor is awed by the opulence of the home, but over the course of a day or two, she realizes that Anna is in a terrible stasis and that she would not trade her life, much poorer and less glitzier, for Anna's.

It raises again the question of how much do you ignore the writer and just pay attention to the writing? I guess you can tell which side I'm on.

As for this edition, I'm no expert in translations, but this read clearly and smoothly for me. As for the cover, phhhpt. Dreadful.

 

A Collapse of Horses

In A Collapse of Horses, Brain Evenson is writing from a place of nightmares. Not, for the most part, the kind of nightmares where giant ogres with pointed teeth the size of the stones at Stonehenge loom over you while you scream in terror. No, this is even worse: The kind of nightmare where on the surface, everything seems fine, but you know it's not, but you can't figure out why, the sky is blue, and yet the shade of blue is wrong, and you think someone is following you, but when you look, no one's there, and yet something shimmers in your peripheral vision, and you are terrified without being entirely certain why, and suddenly you can't move, and you know that's very, very bad.

Which is to say, I pretty much loved this collection of stories. If I hadn't lost control of my library queue, this would have been a perfect October book. However, it is a perfect fit for the R.I.P. (Readers Imbibing Peril) Challenge, which started Sept. 1, so hey! One down for the goal already!

I gotta say, author Evenson's photo at the back of the book makes him look like a very congenial chap, but lord almighty, does he have a perverse imagination. In one story, a couple expecting their first child buys a teddy bear that's equipped with a recording of their yet-to-be-born baby's heart beating. The baby is stillborn--but the bear comes to life. In another story, men working on an unnamed planet find themselves increasingly covered in some kind of dust that they can't keep away, and when bad things begin to happen, it's not entirely clear who or what is responsible. A man driving to Utah from California to attend the estate settlement of his estranged father finds unfathomable things happen once he gets past Reno.

If there's a fairly common thread throughout these stories, it's the terror of the unknown. In many cases, the author simply drops us into a situation with no backstory and few present details, which allows us as reader to flail as helplessly as many of the characters do. Some stories are hallucinatory, others are white-knuckle chillers.

So, if you're making a list of creepy tales for October, this would be a great addition. Note: Publisher Coffeehouse Press printed this original earlier this year, along with reissues of some of Evenson's earlier books. If you click here, you can see some rather brilliant book design--four of the books, including this one, fit together like a puzzle, and ultimate the covers feature a rather terrifying creature. Kudos, Coffeehouse.