Author Writes Book: No Comment from William Hope Hodgson

Yes, we has writted a book. And now we is supposed to tell you. Oh Gods, spare us! Self-promotion is far more tedious for the author than it is for you, dear listeners. “Look, I’m a bricklayer. I did bricks in a row.” “Yep, so you did.” “They is good bricks.” Etc. So today we offer you a free extract from House of Clay, the novel that started it all. At least that’s almost proper content.

and this is where it all ends up
and this is where it all ends up

If this makes no sense, then harken unto us, but only briefly. Four Tales of the Last Edwardian are now available for the discerning – including lurchers – to read. These are stories of psychic unease, period mysteries and underlying horror. They are moderately accurate in their historical setting (says we), and draw on William Hope Hodgson’s Carnacki the Ghostfinder for a degree of background. Occasionally they get real dark, but not always. If you like Sherlock Holmes, Edwardian horror, Carnacki, John Silence or classic ghost stories, you might enjoy them.

Three short stories are already free from Smashwords (see link on right-hand sidebar or go here The Last Edwardian), and are gaining 5 Star reviews on Goodreads from very kind people.

  1. The Intrusion – A tale of Mr Dry, the Deptford Assassin, and his first encounter with Carnacki’s successors.
  2. A Loss of Angels – In which alienist Dr Alice Urquhart is confronted with a killer who may or may not be insane.
  3. One Last Sarabande – A investigation by Henry and Abigail into strange disappearances around a Sussex village.
dry1ad
the character people really want to see

And now comes the much more substantial novella  A Study in Grey, from 18th Wall Productions and available from them (in North America) or from Amazon UK and US. Here’s our own quick blurb:

“An Edwardian thriller, with a dark secret. The psychic Abigail Jessop and her companion Henry are drawn into a circle of seances and spies by a man who cannot afford a conscience – Captain Redvers Blake of British Military Intelligence. Assisted from the shadows by an ageing Sherlock Holmes, these three face an unknown foe and discover what lies behind the painted mask.”

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ninety nine pages of sheer… words

UK link to the right, North America links here:

science of deduction 4: a study in gray 18th wall

a study in gray amazon us

There, that’s got that over with. So, House of Clay. This novel was written many years ago, gained interest from a publisher and was then deemed too uncommercial to risk. So we abandoned it. The same thing happened with horse-riding after we fell on our headses rather painfully. During the intervening years, we lost the entire middle segment (of the novel, not the horse). Physically. It disappeared during moving house. Now that there is interest again, the whole thing needs rewriting, in effect. Pah!

Here’s an unpolished extract for fun…

Three of Carnacki’s circle have attended his funeral in Yorkshire. Carnacki is presumed dead, although the corpse is annoyingly absent. Henry Dodgson, accompanied by Abigail Jessop, endeavours to follow the dictates of Carnacki’s will. They are to make contact with a local psychic who dwells at Hathering, a house in the wilds and a place of which Dodgson has never heard, much to his puzzlement. Carnacki, it seems, had many secrets…

Quiet Beasts

The trap lurched on a pothole, and for a second I was thrown nearer to her than I had anticipated. My face inches from hers, her look pierced me with an intensity which I could scarcely bear, and a strange herbal scent prickled at my nostrils. Abigail’s eyes were an iridescent grey like burnished steel.

I regained my seat and covered up my discomfort by leafing through “The Keighley Courier”, until I found the report of yesterday’s funeral. There was a list of mourners, not difficult given the numbers, in which both my name and Arkright’s were spelled incorrectly, and then a curious entry on Carnacki himself, which I read out to her.

“Whilst he had not resided in this parish, the late Mr Carnacki was perhaps best known around Keighley and Ilkley for his sponsorship of the noted local medium, or “spirit channeller”, Miss Catherine Weatherhead of Hathering. This paper has in the past been convinced of the danger which such activities can pose to those of unsettled mind, and it is to be hoped that Hathering remains a respectable institution now that it is sadly no longer able to profit from the deceased’s patronage.”

“You knew nothing of this?” asked Abigail.

“Afraid not. It looks as if none of us knew him as well as we thought.”

“But were you never aware of his visits to Keighley?”

I thought back, remembering again those comfortable dinners at Cheyne Walk, evenings pottering through the library while Carnacki expounded on some principle or other and Arkright coughed out refutations. Carnacki had little patience for interruption, and always seemed to have directed the evening’s talk, whilst we had generally been tolerant to follow the flow.

“He may have mentioned the odd journey up north. Generally he seemed to visit Lancashire. Had some connections on the coast, I think.”

“And you never asked him about more personal things?” she persisted.

“I suppose not. Usually I was more interested in his latest case.”

It was strange to reflect again on those evenings in a different light, and I felt a sudden irritation. Carnacki had certainly known a considerable amount about me, personally and professionally, and yet he had never responded to such questions in return, always closing the conversation or bringing up another subject.

“Mr Dodgson?” she asked after a minute of silence. “Have you thought of something?”

“Hmm? No, I was just letting my mind wander.”

But the truth was that I had begun to confront an unwelcome fact – for all my bravado in the Clubs and in those circles at social gatherings, I had not known the Ghostfinder. I may have inhabited part of his world, and yes, I was one of only four who were permitted to learn of his latest exploits, but what did that amount to? Only distraction from the truth that my own life was a hollow thing with little purpose.

“I can’t answer any of these questions,” I said finally, watching the churned earth spatter up from the horse’s hooves and add further to the filth along the sides of the trap. “I’m not even sure that my presence at Cheyne Walk was based on anything other than that I amused him occasionally.”

“You amuse me, Mr Dodgson. That doesn’t seem so worthless an ability in times such as these.”

I thought that she toyed with me, but when I looked up, there was no trace of mockery. I smiled.

“Perhaps not. Look, I keep blowing hot and cold on this thing, damn me. I can’t imagine why Carnacki wanted us to check up on this Weatherhead woman, and it’s probably none of our business – some domestic problem of his.”

“Now you let your feelings speak. Whoever Carnacki was, a larger mystery is still at our doorstep. Don’t forget your letter, and that which accompanied it.”

“I don’t see that as anything to do with the Weatherheads. The old Ghostfinder was always following up leads, no matter how queer they seemed; he had some damned odd contacts. It wouldn’t surprise me if this is just another psychic crackpot.”

Abigail brushed her neck swiftly. Her cameo was there, almost hidden under a high lace collar. “Oh no – it’s more than that, believe me. Something watches us, or possibly just you, I don’t know. I hear the breath of it wheezing at our backs.”

I frowned, automatically reaching under my coat in case trouble was upon us. Even as my fingers touched the grip of my revolver, the trap jerked and slowed, the driver tugging on his reins.

“Whoa, y’buggers,” he muttered, and we creaked to a halt. Around us stood nothing but trees; the track had petered out completely.

“‘Atherin’.” he said, with no more feeling than when we had started our journey. We were at the end of a small lane between rows of decrepit trees. Polled once, they now sprouted a confusion of branches from the foreshortened ugliness of their trunks, branches which hung leafless and gaunt. The only signs of real vitality were the suckers which struggled up from their roots to challenge the crowns.

Beyond them, I could see an overgrown path through thicker foliage.

“Tha goes up theer.”

“We’ll want you back here by three,” I said, handing him the fare and a shilling beside. Understand?”

“Three. Aye.” The coins disappeared into his coat. I shook my head, and applied myself to the trail which Abigail had already begun to explore. As the trap rattled away behind us, I made my way to her side, cursing as cold mud squeezed its way over my boot top.

“They should sack the gardener, that’s all I can say.”

We wound our way through a tunnel of trees, the sunlight dripping through occasionally to highlight a lone cobble or the remnants of an ancient wall. The ground was rising under our feet, and I had almost relaxed into the walk when the path twisted to the east and we stepped out into a clearing.

“Good heavens.” I murmured. To either side of us stood two enormous, weathered stone lions, towering my own height and more above the leaf-carpeted path. Although patchworked with the grey and green of lichen, the tawny stone from which they had been carved gave them an uncomfortable semblance of life.

lion-65423_960_720

“Impressive.” Abigail moved up to the statue on our right and gently laid her hand against its flank. Her eyes closed for a moment, and then sighed.

“What is it?” Peering beyond the lions, I could see an unkempt expanse of lawn which must surely belong to Hathering itself. Abigail let her hand slide away from the stone.

“Just something old , something watchful, Henry. But these fellows are too well set in their ways to care about small mysteries and our comings and goings.”

“I should think so.” I gestured to the grass beyond the last straggling trees. “‘Atherin'”

My imitation of the driver brought a faint smile to her lips.

“I hope, Mr Dodgson, that you don’t think yourself too far above the local people to have dealings with them?”

“It’s not their intellect which confounds me, but their vocabulary. I swear I never met a bunch so short on words.”

We stepped out into a place where the grey of November gave way to a more mellow autumnal pallet. A multitude of stacked chimneys rose beyond the tall hedge of beech at the end of the lawn. In five minutes we found ourselves before a house which, if not neglected, had certainly been allowed to slump into its dotage. I can best describe it by saying that it would not have looked out of place on the flyleaf of a Stoker novel, all brooding turret rooms and whatnot.

As to its age, I could not say, but ivy crawled around the portico and seemed to cling to every nook of the architect’s fancy until it fumbled for the eaves themselves. Some windows were entirely overgrown, and it would have needed radical surgery to uncover the true face of the building. It was easily twice the size of Cheyne Walk, itself no clerk’s lodgings, and regarded us with manifest disinterest.

“How do you feel about this, then?” I asked lightly. Abigail looked around to where we had emerged from the trees.

“The lions were silent.”

I bit off a humorous rejoinder, realising that she spoke in all seriousness. “Ah.”

It was time to knock on Hathering’s door.

####

Subscribe to greydogtales or follow me, and you’ll be updated on Tales of the Last Edwardian news as we stagger along.

Next time on greydogtales: Longdogs, interviews, supernatural fiction, weird art – anything but my bloody book…

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Lurchers and a Sofa go to South America

Something for everyone today – which means everyone complaining at once. Life as a writer is such a social whirl – grand society balls, new racing cars to buy and ships to launch – that we’ve been forced into medley-mode. The End of Furniture as We Know It, some fabulous South American weird art, music from Italy and Things We’re Planning. It doesn’t get much more medley than that.

Just remember that you can’t get blood from a rolling stone when it’s headed for a mossy greenhouse with too many cooks in it…

by pablo burman
by pablo burman (see later below)

The End of Furniture as We Know It

Very occasionally people ask “Do you allow your dogs on the furniture?” Well, if we knew what the word ‘allow’ meant, we suppose we might think that one over. We’ve never had pets, as such, and no, we’re not trying to sound pretentious. Our dogs have always been companions with additional legs. They get to do mostly what they want, as long as it doesn’t cause too much mayhem.

The mayhem, sadly is growing. There is little doubt that the house needs a teensy bit of work on it. Plastic explosives and a pick-axe would probably improve the place. Two lively lurchers and an obstinate, incontinent labrador do not make for a spread in the Sunday Times. The latter does mean keeping a copy of the Times spread out for accidents, but that’s not quite the same.

pups2
chillin’

Regular visitors will have seen photos of Django sprawled in his chair. What we dare not show you are the graphic pictures of what lies beneath, and the fact that he has systematically gutted it. Every day we force the stuffing back in, chuck a throw over it and pretend nothing has happened. He knows he shouldn’t do this. All we have to do is say “What are you doing, Django?” in a normal voice, and he looks suitably penitent, an effect somewhat spoiled by the cushion filling on his nose at the time.

Our females, on the other hand, have no shame. Twiglet determinedly licks, chews or scratches at anything she fancies. She actively likes poking her nose into things, and has done for 16 years. She has always pulled equipment out of electricians’ toolboxes, wallets out of handbags and shopping out of carrier bags.

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a twiglet

It’s a very bad case of ‘labrador mouth’, exemplified by her attempt to chew her way into a bottle of Drambuie some years ago. She’s trained in many other ways, but she is of a bloody-minded and unapologetic nature. Point out bad behaviour to her, and unlike dear Django, she looks directly at you with an expression which says “What’s it to you, flabby?” Physical removal of dog, furniture or object to another room is the only known remedy.

a gentleman of leisure
a gentleman of leisure

Chilli is quite responsive, but again, seems unashamed. If we mention that she isn’t supposed to un-stuff the sofa (her own preferred victim), she stops, but doesn’t look at all bothered. The sofa is a nesting area, and she doesn’t like some of the lumps in it. We’ve trying pointing out that many of these lumps are from her previous efforts, but that cuts no ice.

The end result is that this year you should make every effort to buy the writing we produce as soon as it comes out. Not because we’re greedy, no. It’s just that we have to get new furniture faster than the dogs can destroy it.

####

South American Weird Art

The main mission of greydogtales is to introduce people to new stuff. We’ve said before that one great pleasure of the last year has been getting to know some vibrant and interesting writers and artists from South America, especially Argentina.

We did manage to interview the talented artist Sebastian Cabrol last autumn, and his terrific art occasionally illustrates our articles. We’ve also mentioned the work of the multi-skilled Diego Arandojo a number of times, along with coverage of artists such as Quique Alcatena and Santiago Caruso.

lafarium, from diego arandojo, with cover by sebastian cabrol
lafarium, from diego arandojo, with cover by sebastian cabrol

We want to do better this year. As a sign of this, Santiago Caruso is joining us in a few weeks for a full illustrated interview, which is exciting, and we’re going to work on some dedicated features.

Between the physical distance, our own dubious Spanish and so on, it’s harder than usual, but worth it. Today we’d like to mention a few more names, and maybe we’ll be able to give them proper coverage eventually. We also hope to have our friends Sebastian and Diego back with us again later on in the year.

pablo burman
pablo burman

This weekend’s pick for a mention is Pablo Burman. Pablo is a cartoonist, painter and comics artist whose work always catches the eye. Pablo produces a fantastic range of art:

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by pablo burman

 

by pablo burman
by pablo burman

And here are two other Argentinian talents in whom you might be interested:

Ziul Mitomante is a writer/editor at Mitomante and is behind some fascinating comics, with a different take on comics literature.

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demshab from mitomante

Hernan Gonzalez is a creator/editor at Buengustoediciones, and an illustrator who has also worked with Ziul and who produces some striking work.

mitomante and gonzalez
mitomante and gonzalez

Although the art is international, when it comes to books and comics the text of most of these is only in Spanish. Diego’s Lafarium site, however, does have an English version:

lafarium

As an extra, we’re just getting to know Carlos Duenas. Carlos is a director/cinematographer living in Ecuador who also has an interest in folklore and folk horror, so we hope to be talking to him about South American myths as well as his work.

####

Things We’re Planning

The moveable feast, as always, keeps moving. Still somewhere in the pipeline are many great interviews for April and May:

Authors – Writer/editor Lynne Jamneck; fantasy author Joanne Hall; horror/weird writer Rich Hawkins; writer/artist Alan M Clark; SFF, occult and comics writer Mike Chinn, and more.

ArtistsSantiago Caruso, as above, and Richard Svensson, Norwegian fantasy and supernatural illustrator.

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richard svensson

Other features on the list include:

  • Sandra’s First Pony – the new Enid Blyton/Lovecraft story with Mary and Bottles the lurcher at school
  • Two Immortals: Torchwood and Roger Zelazny
  • Raw feeding and Your Lurcher (with explicit pictures of a chicken carcass, naturally)
  • H R Wakefield’s supernatural fiction – the impossible article started last December and still not finished
  • Nautical Weird – the wonderful world of aquatic superheroes
  • An illustrated guide to trying to walk your longdog

Remember, if you don’t like the above, we’ll only tell you more about our own writing, and you wouldn’t want that, would you?

####

Two Fragments

Firstly, a mention of the music of the Italian dark ambient group, Nostalgia, because they have a whole album based on William Hope Hodgson’s The House on the Borderland. It’s creepy and it’s good.

And secondly, we featured writer/artist Raphael Ordonez last year (fractals and fantasies).

nightspore -mosses, ordonez
nightspore -mosses, ordonez

This year, Raphael’s blog/website Alone with Alone has included some fascinating articles on many aspects of strange and classic literature – C S Lewis, Edwin Abbott’s Flatland and geometry, Zardoz and the nature of ghosts. He’s also completing his next novel The King of Nightspore’s Crown. Go have a look!

alone with alone

by pablo burman
by pablo burman

Thank you, you’ve been a great audience… oh, everybody’s gone. Rats.

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Batman v Superman: Prawns of Justice

We don’t cover films on greydogtales. Nor do we do reviews. So here’s our review of the new film Batman versus Superman: Dawn of Justice, which we may or may not have seen. Warning: Probably contains serious spoilers. The way we do things, it’s hard to tell. Read this, and you’ll believe a bat can fly. What? They can already?

The movie is a bit dark, so we turned up the brightness. We cut out the moment where Jimmy Olsen’s secret wristwatch signal goes off in the men’s toilets, and three undercover cops grab him.

the hero they forgot (by alex ross)
the hero they forgot to include (by alex ross)

We liked the part where Perry Mason turns up as Clark Kent’s editor and then prosecutes the cub reporters for secretly causing the actress’s supposed suicide. Who would have thought that the poison was in her lipstick? But that would have made our review too long, and we cut that as well.

no, commissioner gordon, i'm afraid you've got the wrong number
no, commissioner gordon, i’m afraid you’ve got the wrong number

Here’s our view of the film. We may have been drunk at the time. We may even have been so sober that our eyes hurt and we made all this up…

(Opening montage – Christian Bale in a temper, destroys Metropolis; a woman runs across the screen in slow motion, wearing a very tight red Baywatch swimsuit and trying to find an invisible plane)

SCENE ONE: THE BATCAVE

Batman: I’m getting old and bitter, Alfred – I’m not the man I used to be.

Alfred (looking in bat-mirror): Neither of us are, sir. I’m sure I used to be in the Italian Job.

Batman: It’s Superman. He’s a threat to humanity with his powers, his intervention in our affairs and the villains he attracts.

Alfred (glancing at bat-car, bat-plane, exotic weaponry, souvenirs of insane bat-villains and man in black bat-outfit): Yes, sir. If only he were normal, like us.

Robin: Holy tragic imagery, Batman! Am I dead or what?

(Batman and Alfred wander off, ignoring plaintive whining about alternative plot-lines)

looks like the kerpowee! days are over, robin
looks like the kerpowee! days are over, robin

SCENE TWO: THE DAILY PLANET

Clark Kent: That Batman! He’s a threat to humanity with his powers, his intervention in our affairs and the villains he attracts.

Louis: Your glasses have melted again, Clark. Say, do I have a meaningful role in this one?

Clark: Something something something investigative journalism something.

Louis: Oh. I suppose I’d better go and expose the numerous villainies of a criminal mastermind. You know, the ones which inexplicably no one else has noticed. That Washington Post has really gone downhill since Watergate.

Clark: Good girl. Three sugars.

SCENE THREE: THE LEXCAVE

(During the Lexcorp Annual Bar-mitzvah, Eid celebration and fundraiser)

Lex Luthor: Zod, Zod, Zoddity-Zod.

Senator Finch: Not when we have guests, Lex.

Lex: But Superman is a threat to humanity with his-

Senator Finch: We’ve done that one.

Lex: Kryptonite. Fightnite. Bat of Gothamite. Can I borrow any DNA you happen to have lying around?

Senator Finch: I’ll get back to you on that.

Passing Antiques Dealer: Ooh look, a mainframe. Is that old?

(Exeunt Lex and Finch, pursued by tropes)

Antiques Dealer (who looks nothing like Wonder Woman, honestly): Hmm, computer files. Blessed Hera, Lex has a file on me. Shoe size is wrong though. And a file on Ambush Bug, Bouncing Boy and a guy who can speak to fish! What force could stop such a stupendous gathering of might?

Batman: I’ll have that file.

Antiques Dealer: OK. I didn’t copy it, either.

Batman: I trust you. Uh-oh, a vision.

Mysterious Time Traveller: Louis Lane something something something investigative journalism something. Future stuff.

Batman: No! Louis Lane crucial yet pointlessly endangered… it’s unthinkable. Must go and find loads of kryptonite.

Antiques Dealer: Of course you must, dear.

we're in the next movie, honest we are
we’re in the next movie, honest we are (cartoon network)

SCENE FOUR: US CAPITOL

Senator Finch: Are you now, or have you ever been, a communist?

Superman: I don’t think this is going to go well.

(Congress explodes; people die. Everyone who has been saved a zillion times by Superman decides that he stinks)

SCENE FIVE: THE BATCAVE

Batman: Now that I have a ton of this alien metal junk, I need to do something useful with it and go face Superman.

Alfred: Here, sir. Take this press-out cardboard battle armour from Boy’s Own Monthly (1947) and soak it in krypto-paste. That’ll be the ticket.

Batman: You Brits sure know how to kick ass.

Alfred: Arse, sir.

by fire-mask
by fire-mask

SCENE SIX: THE LEXCAVE

Lex: Got you now. Not only do I have your girlfriend, Superman, but I’ve captured Martha’s Vineyard and hidden it.

Superman: Noooo – I had a three-day break booked, as well. Shame the guy who speaks to fish wasn’t around. What do you want, you fiend with variable amounts of hair?

Lex: I want you to fight…. The Batman!

Superman: OK. You could have just asked, you know.

batman-superan-wonderwoman-critique
dawn of justice (copyright originator)

SCENE SEVEN: THE BIG BATTLE

Superman: I have a nagging feeling that I should reason with you. Cool spear, by the way.

Batman: Why don’t we have a doughnut together first?

Superman: If you want. What’s on this anyway? No, kryptonite sprinkles! (gasps, collapses).

Batman: Yes, the spear was a dummy. As are you. And now to-

Superman: Save… Martha’s Vineyard!

Batman: My God, I had a holiday there once. This must be Lex’s doing – he always hated Cape Cod.

(Lex, his plans unmasked, unleashes Doonesbury, a satirical monster who questions the relevance of superheroes in the post-modern world)

Antiques Dealer: Sorry I was late – couldn’t find the invisible plane.

(Omnes join forces to fight monster)

Batman: I’m beginning to regret using Alfred’s cardboard armour. Damn you, Boy’s Own Monthly!

Wonder Woman (for it is she): You boys and your toys! (checks magic lasso, bracelets, belt and invisible plane). Damn, it’s disappeared again.

Superman: I have a bad feeling about today.

Batman: Use this spear on the monster. I lied, it’s quite a nasty bit of weaponry. You’ll probably die in the process though, so if you want to think it over…

Doonesbury: Arghhh! Me have such a skin problem today. And double pink-eye. Me mad!

Superman (performs impromptu baton routine with kryptonite spear): Try scratching it with this. I’ll just get close enough so that if anything goes wrong, you can impale me.

Doonesbury: Sounds fair.

(Both are accordingly impaled)

sky-414199_960_720
that invisible plane in full detail

SCENE EIGHT: A POLICE CELL IN ARKANSAS

Lex: Sucker. Now that Superman is dead, the earth will be imperilled by hordes of powerful alien and/or mutant superbeings. Why this is in my interest I have no idea. I’m not a well man.

Batman: Rats! I mean, bats! No hair tonic for you, Luthor.

SCENE NINE: SMALLVILLE

(Sundry characters in dinner suits, polo outfits, safari suits – and anything else they can find which isn’t a superhero costume – gather for a funeral)

Bruce Wayne (who is really Batman!): I think I may have got this one wrong.

Antiques Dealer: You think?

Endearing Town Gravedigger: Funny that, ole Clark dying jes’ as that durn Superman done choked on his cornbread.

Lois: Yes, it’s, um, quite a coincidence.

Bruce: I’m going to contact those amazing folk on the computer file – Brasso Boy, Aquavit and the rest. They sound like they couldn’t fail against aliens and/or mutant superbeings. They’ll be called… the Just-In League and fight monstrous evil as long as it only threatens the United States mostly.

Antiques Dealer: Yeah, they sound…. Never mind.

Lois: I got a letter from Martha’s Vineyard. Apparently they want to propose to me.

(Exeunt all, with scriptwriters)

Clark Kent’s Grave: Are we there yet?

Supergirl-Melissa-Benoist-wallpapers-hd-1366X768-desktop-01-700x393

END

You may, of course, want to go and actually see this film – or the real one – to make up your own mind. Gal Gadot looks nice as the Antiques Dealer, though we would have liked to see her kick everyone’s butts and end up as Last Woman Standing. Maybe we’ll go and watch Supergirl again – we enjoyed some of that…

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Eoliths and Nephilim: A Word with Cobweb Mehers

There is an unsettling shiver on the air, a darkness on the waters where the light should fall… yes, it’s Folk Horror Time once more, and today we have a mover in the movement, that gifted artist (and occasional writer) Cobweb Mehers with us to talk about everything from Goth music to sculpture and the art of the Upper Palaeolithic. We make it sound as if we know what we’re talking about, and Cobweb makes it clear that he does. It’s our big interview for this week, so we’ll get straight down to it…

Cobweb low res version

greydog: Welcome to greydogtales, Cobweb. Many of your areas of interest seem to overlap with ours, so we may be testing you today, quite unfairly. We first came into contact via the Folk Horror Revival movement. Did you yourself get involved with the Revival from a folklore background, a love of horror, or both?

cobweb: Initially I got involved to support a friend. Andy Paciorek (see  interview with the weirdfinder general) had some very big ideas and his enthusiasm and vision was a little contagious. It was a genre I was only vaguely aware of by name but I was already very at home in that aesthetic. I enjoy a lot of the related music and films but my real interest lies more with folklore inspired art. It was through Andy’s Strange Lands book that I started to get to know him, so that was my starting point.

I’m very excited about the various projects the group is looking at for the future. There is an enormous wealth of musical, artistic, and literary talent within the group and it’s great to see people interacting and bouncing ideas around. There’s so much more going on in the background that you don’t really see on the Facebook group. It really is the start of a revival and evolution of Folk Horror and I expect to see great things come from it.

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field studies, mehers

greydog: We agree with that, and are enjoying the Revival immensely. You may have noticed that despite the lure of dark forests and sacred groves, we draw a lot of inspiration from the sea and its boundary with the land. Do you have any affinity for the cold grey waters, or are you a woodsman when you seek out folk influences?

cobweb: I’m very much a sacred groves kind of person. I lean far more towards Machen’s Pan than Lovecraft’s Deep Ones, but I do have a thing for liminal zones. When I lived on the North East coast my favourite thing was to walk deserted beaches in thick fog. You’re caught between the sea and the land but both are silent and indistinct.

greydog: It’s a perfect moment. Now, you’ve spoken elsewhere of your admiration for the group The Fields of the Nephilim. As we don’t really cover enough music here (and we love their album Dawnrazor), maybe you could say a bit about this for our listeners?

cobweb: Dawnrazor was a revelation to me. I was 15 when I first heard it and it completely changed the way I saw the world. Initially it was more a case of atmosphere and style but the substance came with time. They’re a band I’ve grown up with and they’ve grown with me. I’m still finding new ideas and inspiration in their work. Fields of the Nephilim have been a catalyst for most of what I’ve done in one way or another.

83541f0b886862ba7e2e9d4ebd7a025d

When I first discovered the internet in the late 90’s I spent many happy hours dissecting their lyrics with other fans and discussing the inspiration behind songs. I established friendships with people across the world who shared my interests in the esoteric, ancient history, archaeology, and myth. Most of them I’ve since met in the flesh and count amongst my closest friends.

It was through his work on the first Fields of the Nephilim videos that I got to know Richard Stanley. While we no longer see eye to eye, it was Richard who first invited me to visit Montsegur and experience the high strangeness of the Languedoc up close and extremely personally. It’s an amazing part of the world; initially I was drawn to it as during the Middle Ages it was a melting pot of esoteric and heretical ideas from across Europe and the Middle East, but there have been people there for over thirty thousand years so there’s a lot more to it.

In the Upper Palaeolithic it was where all the coolest artists and magicians hung out and it has been ever since. I fell in love with the region and go back whenever I can to climb the mountains of the gods, visit the sacred groves, and explore lost ruins and secret caves.

this is a terrible place, mehers
this is a terrible place, mehers

greydog: Speaking of the offspring of fallen angels (cheap link), we were always disappointed that the Book of Enoch was considered non-canonical – Azazel and the Watchers etc. And then we saw your piece about the Biblical Nephilim in the Folk Horror Revival book ‘Field Studies’. What interests you about this particular theme?

cobweb: It’s a subject I’ve been obsessed with for decades. It actually predates my love of Fields of the Nephilim and is what initially made me listen to the band. The reason it interests me has changed dramatically over the years as I’ve discovered more about it. The mythology grew out of a pivotal moment in the history of civilisation. On one level it’s our way of coping with the leap from nomadic hunter-gatherers to settled agriculturalists.

There are definite historical events that lie behind it that are probably nowhere near as exotic as the stories, but there’s also a spiritual aspect to what happened that’s much harder to pin down and unsettlingly pervasive. What may come down to little more than an argument about sharing technology and a fear of climate change thousands of years ago still forms the basis of the way we perceive the world. We can’t forget even if we can’t quite remember what it is we can’t forget. It’s something I find endlessly fascinating.

ice_age_art
ice age art

greydog: Let’s talk about your artistic work. You’re the talent behind Eolith, which specialises in a range of striking mythic and pre-history sculptures. Is the work you do for Eolith your main day-to-day focus, or just one of many sidelines?

cobweb: Eolith Designs is the platform for any work that’s my own idea rather than for commissions. I try to make it my main focus but I get distracted by other projects from time to time. I’ve just finished a cover design for Volume 6 of Cumbrian Cthulhu (cumbrian cthulhu), which I think comes out in the Autumn, and I’ll be doing some illustrations for upcoming Folk Horror Revival fiction releases.

swimming reindeer low res version
swimming reindeer, mehers

greydog: We believe that you contributed to the British Museum’s exhibition “Ice Age art: arrival of the modern mind” a few years ago, is that right?

cobweb: Initially the British Museum wanted to sell some of my Ice Age art inspired sculptures in conjunction with the exhibition. I also offered to create a new work based on one of the pieces in the exhibition. It’s a thirteen thousand year old carving called The Swimming Reindeer and it means a lot to me personally but I’d not accounted for anyone else being as interested in it as I was. I expected to sell a dozen at most but it was insanely popular. I spent nearly a year doing little more than making reindeer and three years after the end of the exhibition they’re still selling them.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
venus, mehers

greydog: Which do you prefer, the detailed recreation of a genuine early artefact or having licence to experiment with mythological imagery?

cobweb: The Swimming Reindeer is the only sculpture I’ve done where I deliberately set out to do a detailed recreation. The British Museum sent me loads of very nice photographs and that forced me to work in a completely different way than I usually do. Even that isn’t an exact reproduction, but having seen mine in the same room as the original it isn’t far off.

The work I’ve done based on genuine artefacts has generally been a result of me trying to get inside the head of the original artists and work out why they did things the way they did. Everything is an experiment and an exploration of ideas. I do a lot of research before I start anything and I sculpt quite slowly so the process forces me to spend a long time focused on thinking about one particular thing and that is gradually distilled into the final piece.

albion - a prophecy, mehers
albion – a prophecy, mehers

greydog: You also do ‘flat’ art, of course. Do you find it less satisfying than sculpture?

cobweb: I probably paint and draw more than I sculpt, but I approach 2D art in an entirely different way. I use it for more immediate things; recording dreams and visions and things glimpsed at the more exotic ends of the consciousness spectrum. It’s not the kind of thing that lends itself well to going on people’s living room wall. I’ve been pondering putting a book together for a while now, as I think that would probably be a better format for them, but it’s finding the time.

entrance, royal palace at ugarit
entrance, royal palace at ugarit

greydog: We read once that you have an interest in Ugaritic studies, which would seem terribly niche except that we do too. In our case, it’s because of the Dagon/Ioannes connections and the whole Hittite and Sumerian mythology scene. This is an amazing resource for the stranger branches of fiction, including the Cthulhu Mythos writers – and bits of our own work. How did you get into the subject?

cobweb: This was another side effect of my Nephilim obsession. The Nephilim turn up in Canaanite myth as The Healers and they feature in the literature found at Ugarit. I very quickly developed a fondness for Canaanite culture and mythology. There’s a deceptive simplicity to it and a humanity that’s very easy to relate to even today. I have a particular affection for the goddess Anat; there’s a touch of genius to personifying war as a teenage girl. The Devourers are also worth looking into. They’d be right at home in a Lovecraft story.

dagon

greydog: As you know, weird fiction is at the heart of greydogtales. We’re guessing that you’re quite well-versed in that area – which writers resonate with you?

cobweb: I don’t read a lot of fiction these days but when I do it tends to be the classics of that particular genre. I discovered Lovecraft first and again that was down to Fields of the Nephilim. We’ve become overly familiar with him in many ways and he’s not taken seriously enough. He’s not the greatest writer from a technical point of view but there are still things in his work that are actually really scary even after repeated rereads.

shub niggurath, mehers
shub niggurath, mehers

Machen I identify much more with and I enjoy his non-fiction as well as his stories. I’d love to have met him partly because I have a lot of questions, but mostly because I think we’d have got on really well. I’m also quite keen on Lord Dunsany and have been known to dabble with Clark Ashton Smith.

pan by sgorbissa, deviantart
the great god pan by sgorbissa, deviantart

greydog: And to finish with, our perennial question – what’s coming from you in the next year? Any plans or projects you’d like to share with us?

cobweb: I have a couple of new sculptures in progress that should see the light of day before too long. One is my interpretation of what archaeologists call Judean pillar figurines, because archaeologists have no imaginations. The other one will eventually be one of a pair and is an exploration of ideas about the Nephilim covering a lot of history and geography. His other half will have to wait for a while though because the big project for the rest of this year will be jewelry.

I started my artistic career making jewelry and it was always something I intended to come back to when I started Eolith Designs. I’m really just aiming to make tiny wearable sculptures in silver.

greydog: Thank you very much, Cobweb Mehers, it’s been a pleasure talking to you. If you’d like to see, or know more about, Cobweb’s sculpture and design work, have a look here:

eolith designs

Not forgetting the music – if you don’t know the Neph then you can listen to the Dawnrazor track itself here:

And why not try exploring the Folk Horror Revival. We think it’s great. The website’s below, and the first book’s on the sidebar.

folk horror revival website

albion - a prophecy, mehers
albion – a prophecy, mehers

Next time: Don’t ask. Just don’t ask. Our brains hurt, and the dogs need to go out…

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