The Ghosthunter, by D.F. Lewis

 

"And so, life itself that one needs to live so as to write the stories that creates the life that created them in the first place, will be sure to prevail perhaps forever, whoever the one is whom one chooses to write them." 

9781069101624

ghosttruth/Montag, 2024

127 pp 

paperback

 Regular, long-time readers of strange/weird/ghostly/horror fictions (mainly small press but not always)  will have at least once crossed online paths with this author's sixteen-year run of  Real-Time Gestalt Reviews, where D.F. Lewis offers "episodic, brainstorming reviews" which are to him "very personal -- rough-shod and spontaneous." They are also extremely insightful, offering readers an ongoing commentary based on his own distinctive perceptions vis-a-vis connections, coincidences, and synchronicities, which I have never before experienced from anyone else who has ever written a book review.  His work is truly one of a kind; he is the ultimate scrier and although retired from reviewing now, his work will continue to live on.  

Lewis is also a published author, and his latest book is The Ghosthunter.  There are no EVP sessions, EMF meters or laser grids to be found here, nor are there garden-variety entities covered in shrouds or dragging clanking chains along with them.   It is an eerie and atmospheric collection of what the author calls "miniatures," which are very short, dark and uniquely-styled fictions.  In the telling, they are more than a bit fragmented, which leaves the reader to become a sort of scrier in his/her own right over the course of the book to seek out the meaning behind what the ghost hunter wants to reveal.   The Ghosthunter, because of the way it incorporates places, literary works, people and events over the central character's lifetime, has a rather semi-autobiographical feel, and the ghosts that inhabit this book are tied to the ghost hunter's life experiences via perception and memory.   The thing is that Lewis does not make it so easy for the reader to discern the exact moment when the realities begin to blur into something less tangible or when the ordinary slides into something less familiar, making the overall effect one of distortion and disorientation, as well as mystery and above all, uncertainty.  For me, this is the essence of the ghosts/memories   that this ghost hunter seeks -- they are elusive, often  shapeshifting, and even capable of haunting the ghost hunter himself from time to time. 

Lewis tackles, among others, themes of meaning and mortality in this rather enigmatic yet introspective book; in his distinctive (and admittedly at times daunting) prose, the author takes the reader along with this ghost hunter on his journey as he offers these rather haunting tales of "self and non-self," making it seem as if you are right there with him.  I especially loved the use of intertexuality in these stories, but even more,  that of mansions that runs throughout, since not only are they the perfect setting for literary ghost stories but also for spaces where memories reside, especially if you follow the idea of houses representing people (which, as a closet Jungian and huge fan of Elizabeth Bowen, I do).  In some of these mansions there are no rooms, and more importantly is his notion of "mansions without roofs," which early in the ghost writer's career (I don't know about the author's but I suspect so), was set as a sort of writing prompt from a member of the author's local writers' group that had been drawn from a tin.  There is also mention of a "mansion of life," which so stood out to me that I must repeat it here because it captures one of a number of poignant reflections that are found scattered throughout the book:

"These stories, it increasingly becomes clear, are separate floors in the mansion of life, till you reach the topmost attic of all, from which vantage point of near roofless exposure, you can gather, simply by looking down, that the whole crumbling exterior of the mansion badly needs repair." 

While reading this book,  I often had the feeling that I was trespassing into the ghost hunter's metaphysical space, which, I suppose I was meant to, but it felt so personal that I often felt like an intruder.   On the only negative I can think of, it does take a lot of time and patience to get through and even then, I'm not absolutely positive that I've truly understood all that Lewis has to say here.   If you’re looking for a fast-paced thriller or a typical ghost story, this one won't work for you.  However,   The Ghosthunter is something that runs much deeper, it is highly introspective, and it is a book that resonates emotionally. It is dark and can range into somber,  yet in its own way it is a most beautiful collection that will stay with me for a long time.   

The Universe as Performance Art, by Colby Smith

 

9781913766153

Eibonvale Press, 2024

143 pp

paperback

Crikey! It's been a long while since I've been here but things have been a bit on the chaotic side for a while.  There really just hasn't been much spare time to post my thoughts about what I've been reading, although I will say I have a stack of small-press gems sitting here waiting for my comments. 

 First up is one of  Eibonvale's latest releases,   The Universe As Performance Art  by author Colby Smith, a collection of short stories that above all will jolt its readers out of their complacency while making them do some serious thinking about what they've just encountered.   As described on the back-cover blurb by author Paul Cunningham, this book is "a disquieting, panoramic gallery exhibition obsessed with art's arranged marriage with Nature and the consequences of art itself," but to say that Smith's work is "disquieting" is an enormous understatement.  

I am so late in posting about this book which I should have done last month (had it not been for a two-week vacation and then a week of sleep recovery)  that I'm only going to offer three examples of stories that made a deep impact on my already-buzzing psyche.   "The Game Show Expats" did my head in and wins my personal award for most disturbing.    This story consists of three different scenarios focused on people who've won each a trip to the Florida Keys as a prize in a game show that "combined both the novelty-game and trivia formats."  The first two are out there, but it's the third one that made me do a very loud "WTF,"  but then again, I live in this state and honestly, nothing here fazes  me any more.   If you're talking about the question of what different people find to be important in life, this story answers it in suprising ways.   "All about yourself" indeed.    I can't speak highly enough about "Somnii Draconis," which begins as a young man is walking along the beach and runs into an older guy with a dowsing rod. Turns out the dowser is looking for "the sex of stones." Obviously, the younger man says, "there are no organs at all in rocks," but the old man definitely knows what he's talking about -- as the younger will soon discover.    As this part of story is unfolding, another thread running through this tale links current "black-market hype" (which I won't explain here)   to the  "classical Chinese medicinal canon," beginning with the "dragon bones"  (龍骨), fossils discovered by farmers as they plowed their fields, which then went to priests who ground and used them for their "supposed healing properties" against "metaphysical ailments."  While there is more than a bit of humor in this one,  the younger man's  unspoken"counterargument" toward the conclusion of this story deserves our full attention.    In a completely different vein is "Amaterasu Overthrown," which is without doubt brilliant, transplanting the Japanese myth about the sun goddess deep into the future and most fully into the realm of science fiction.   On the space station Takamagahara the light suddenly dies, "sucked away" by the goddess Amaterasu who has fled the station for a black hole after a prank "gone too far"  by her brother. The result is devastating for life forms on the station; thus a price must be paid.   Worth more than an honorable mention are "Aphorisms in Concrete," "The Bombed Zoo,"  and in a much quieter mode, "Fluora," all of which point to Smith as a serious talent. 

The majority of these stories center on art, integrating physical, mental and spiritual selves,  science and the natural world as well as other areas of existence, all written in  bold, vital language.  Connected to that are the consequences of the choices that are made by the people who inhabit these tales, which are also explored here.   What really struck me though in most cases was the intensity of emotion that seeps out via the author's characters, even in those stories I didn't particularly care for, which in actuality weren't all that many.  I will say that if you depend on trigger warnings, well, this probably isn't the book for you.  

 In the blurb on the back of the book, Cunningham also says that this book is "an indispensable contribution to the Neo-Decadent international art movement canon," and  I have to admit that my familiarity with the movement is pretty much nil (although after reading this one my curiosity is getting the better of me).  I found this article from Document (2023) which helped a bit,  and a brief explanation by Fergus Nm in The Aither as part of a review of Neo-Decadence Evangelion (Zagava, 2023; ed. Justin Isis) where he describes this group as a "loose confederation of writers, poets, and artists with an axe to grind against the imagination-starved tedium of much of what passes for 'contemporary culture.' "   Amen to that -- and here's to continuing to shake up the system.  There's more than enough to keep any reader of darker fiction on their toes here, and my many and hugely grateful thanks (along with an apology for taking forever)  to the very good people at Eibonvale for my copy.  I may not know the movement itself very well, but The Universe as Performance Art blew me right out of my comfort zone and made me want to read more from Mr. Colby Smith in the future.  And that's what matters.