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The Reaping (Paperbacks from Hell) by Bernard Taylor Publisher : Valancourt Books Language : English Paperback : 224 pages ISBN-10 : 1948405342 ISBN-13 : 978-1948405348 Horror was doing big business in the bookstores in the 1960s. This was largely thanks to gothic literature which promised gentle tales of haunted manors and melancholy spirits on their covers. Things took a more devilish turn towards the end of the decade with the release of ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ in 1967, followed by William Peter Blatty’s ‘The Exorcist’ and Thomas Tryon’s ‘The Other in 1971, but the real fun began in 1974 with the release of two books that would open the floodgate for pulp horror. Jaws (Peter Benchley) and The Rats (James Herbert) proved that there was an appetite out there for books that weren’t ashamed to be all-out horror. The publishing industry took note and throughout the 1970s and 1980s, companies such as Zebra, Tor and Pinnacle published a seemingly endless supply of books promising unspeakable terrors and sporting covers that had to be seen to be believed. Sometimes the content was great, other times… not so much, but one thing that you could always be guaranteed was a fun and entertaining read. By the mid-90s, horror paperbacks were seemingly out, and thrillers were in. Gone were the lurid covers of skeletons, evil dolls, creepy kids and flesh hungry critters. The horror was still there, it just wasn’t marketed as such, treated like a shameful secret. As titles fell quickly out of print, many of the horror authors and their work became increasingly forgotten by all but the most avid fans and collectors. Enter Will Errickson, Grady Hendrix and ‘Paperbacks From Hell’. In 2017 Hendrix and Errickson released their seminal love letter to the horror paperbacks of a bygone era, shining a light on some long-forgotten classics and renewing interest in the mass market horror paperbacks of the 1970s and 80s. Not content to simply share their passion for these oft maligned but much missed books, thanks to their partnership with Valancourt Books, we are being treated to new reprints of the best of these decades-old, forgotten gems. To date, thirteen reprints have been published (with a fourteenth on the way), retaining the original cover art and boasting brand new and insightful introductions from Hendrix and Errickson. In this series I’ll be reading each and every one and posting articles at Ginger Nuts of Horror looking back at the best books two decades of horror has to offer. The next book in the series is a slow burn mystery with increasingly sinister supernatural undertones. The Reaping by Bernard Taylor, originally published in 1980, is an eerie and intriguing tale that has far more in common with the creeping dread of the likes of Rosemary’s Baby and The Other than it does with the more bombastic and visceral books synonymous with the phrase ‘Paperbacks From Hell’. There is little to no violence. Instead, The Reaping presents an intriguing premise, and then ratchets up the tension, not letting go of the reader until the final page. Tom Rigby is a loving father and business owner whose love for painting has been replaced in recent years by his devotion to his work and family. When an opportunity to exhibit his art leads to an offer to paint the portrait of a young woman from a wealthy family, the money and the chance to have his work gain a new appreciation prove to be too enticing to turn down. When he arrives at the sprawling grounds of Woolvercombe House it becomes increasingly clear that something is amiss. His portrait subject seems distant and nervous, the staff overtly aggressive, and the housekeeper is taking great pains to keep secrets from him. Strange noises and hushed conversations at night, and nuns secreted towers far into the manor grounds suggest all is not as it seems and, too late, Tom realises the true purpose behind his invitation, and the horrors that are in store for him. With its grand manor houses, English gentlemen and quaint settings, The Reaping is a quiet, low-key book. The horror comes from suggestion and the pervasive feeling, which builds throughout the first half of the book, that something is not quite right. The unhurried pacing and understated approach work because the story hinges around a big act three reveal, and large portions of the book are build-up and teases that lead towards this. It may not be to every horror readers taste, but it is undeniably effective at creating a sense of dread in place of gore and bloodshed. One of the books most refreshing elements is the character of Tom Rigby. Where generic horror tropes would dictate that the protagonist is driven to investigate and act upon the things he finds out as the book progresses, it was a surprise to find such a pragmatist as our lead. Tom has a family to think about, and a life outside of what he discovers and he remains (until his hand is well and truly forced) reluctant and even indifferent to getting involved. It comes across as genuine human reaction rather than forcing characters to respond in ways that progress the plot and it makes Tom all the more engaging and likeable. I can’t say that I shared Toms apathetic reaction to the events that transpire during his stay at Woolvercombe House, because I found the mystery to be absolutely enthralling. So many questions get raised in these sections, and all the pieces of the puzzle seem so random and unconnected at first, I couldn’t get to the answers quick enough. What was especially satisfying is that the reader is given enough clues early on to get to the bottom of what is really happening at the house, and what its owner's true intentions are, affording us the opportunity to be one step ahead of Tom in this regard. It makes it such a satisfying reveal when it does come, that I found myself backtracking to re-read sections that hinted earlier in the book that are now shown in a different light once we learn why Tom was really brought to them. If there were one flaw that stood out, it is that The Reaping ultimately falls victim to just how much it excels at creating an engaging mystery during the first half of the book, as the later chapters set after his stay don’t quite match that same feeling of menace and tension. The finale is action-packed and satisfying but the sections in the second half that led up to it have less urgency and forward momentum than those that both precede and follow it. The Reaping may not be what fans of the Paperbacks From Hell line expect, particularly coming straight off the back of such gleefully gruesome fare as the previous book in the series (‘The Nest’) but that diversity is proving to be Valencourts biggest strength right now because The Reaping is a wildly different but equally rewarding offering to what’s come before. The premise may be well worn but the execution is superb and there are surprises aplenty in store for even the most seasoned horror reader. Join me next time when I’ll be sharing my thoughts on The Tribe by Bari Wood. If you’d like to read along with this series and want to pick up copies of the books, or learn more about Valancourts’ Paperbacks From Hell line, visit their site at www.valancourtbooks.com/paperbacksfromhell The Reaping (Paperbacks from Hell) Paperback |
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