 Like the other books in the Tales from the Shadow Booth series, volume four opens with a vignette detailing the mysterious canvas tent of a Punch and Judy puppet show which appears when someone needs it, or wants it most. The mythology woven into this short piece works well and sets the tone for the stories to come. The first story, The Devil of Timanfaya, centres on Tessa, a woman on holiday with her family. The paranormal forces are only glimpsed, instead existing on the periphery of the story. The real horror lies in Tessa's panic attacks and the isolation and loneliness they induce. The Tribute also concerns a family holiday. The narrator reflects on a trip he took with his family as a child. To say more would spoil this one. The horror simmers and leaves you wondering for some time afterwards about what really happened on that remembered holiday. Charles Wilkinson's, The Larkins, is about a former Buddhist monk, on a quest for peace and serenity, who is housesitting for his sister in an unfamiliar town. We have odd locals, hints of strange practices and rituals and an aggression which festers beneath it all. This one has a strangeness which feels reminiscent of an Aickman tale. Drowning explores loss on a few different levels as the main character reflects back on his life. It deals with the loss of a loved one, the loss of identity and what, if anything, is left afterwards. The following story, You Are Not in Kettering Now, sees a retired head teacher escape to a tiny island in France in an effort to reconnect with nature. However, she finds it harder than she anticipates. It's a peculiar story which builds to an ending which is sharp and shocking. Hardrada by Ashley Stokes is a haunting story of grief and guilt. There is a dreamlike quality to the prose, heightened by the faceless ‘We’ who narrate the story, all of which builds to a dark and inevitable climax. James Everington's, Defensive Wounds, is a vicious story about terminal illness. Karen, our narrator, recounts the story of an attack she and her friends experienced years earlier. But, familiar tropes are subverted and the story veers into unexpected savagery. Next up was, The Verandah, a sombre story from Jay Caselberg. This one is quiet and reflective but ends on a gently hopeful note. In, The Salt Marsh Lambs, superstition meets rationality as a rich, city couple explore a plot of country land they wish to buy and ignore the advice of their local guide. The mythology in this one is intriguing and leaves the reader curious for more. The Box of Knowledge, by Tim Cooke, is about a group of young misfits who find an abandoned haulage container and use it as their hideout to drink and do drugs. There is a dreamy quality to this story, echoing the narrator’s drug haze, which leaves you with a number of unanswered questions. The power in this story however, lies in the realistic portrayal of lost, misguided youth. A girl, married off by her father to an abusive cousin, is the focus of His Hand. Prayer plays a major part in this story. Who do we pray to? For what? And, if they are answered, what price will be paid? Terminal Teatime examines class and perceived societal pressures. It is perhaps the shortest story in the anthology, but the strange world painted in the few pages of this one is vivid and deep. In Collector of Games, Gary Budden draws on the rumours and myths of the video game industry and weaves them into a dark story. An inventive and interesting concept. The final story, One, Two, Three, marks a change in direction for the anthology being more science fiction than horror. However, this story does echo some of the motifs found in other stories – lost characters, strange locations – and builds to a chilling climax. If you like your horror front and centre then this book isn't for you. The monsters within these stories are often glimpsed or shrouded in shadow. The stories are filled with a sense of displacement. They are eerie and unsettling and you will not find easy answers in many of the conclusions. These stories linger. Like many anthologies, the stories within Tales from The Shadow Booth (Vol. 4) are varied and each reader will draw their own conclusions and select their own stand out pieces. For me those stories were Defensive Wounds, Hardrada, The Verandah, Collector of Games and The Salt Marsh Lambs. That said, the anthology offered up an engaging collection of stories and voices, some of which were new to me, and I look forward to reading further volumes. THE SHADOW BOOTH: VOL. 4 EDITED BY DAN COXON It's as Peter begins to wade into the tarn that he spies the strange canvas structure at the edge of the trees. It looks like an abandoned Punch & Judy booth, he thinks, but dirty and tired, stained black with mould. Ignoring the water licking cold about his ankles, he squints to read the crimson scrawl on the plank propped against it. Enter the Shadow Booth, it says, and you will never be the same again. The Shadow Booth is an international journal of weird and eerie fiction, publishing emerging and established writers of the strange. Drawing its inspiration from the likes of Thomas Ligotti and Robert Aickman, The Shadow Booth explores that dark, murky hinterland between mainstream horror and literary fiction. Volume 4 includes new weird and uncanny fiction by: Gary Budden, Jay Caselberg, Tim Cooke, James Everington, Lucie McKnight Hardy, Giselle Leeb, Polis Loizou, James Machin, Andrew McDonnell, Jane Roberts, Ashley Stokes, Anna Vaught, Charles Wilkinson and Marian Womack.  Grant Longstaff is from a small, suitably dismal town in the north east of England where nothing much happens. He had no choice but to write fiction. His work has appeared in Arterial Bloom from Crystal Lake Publishing and is forthcoming in Aurealis Magazine. He now lives in Glasgow. You can find him at www.grantlongstaff.co.uk or on Twitter at @GrantLongstaff.   the heart and soul of horror fiction reviewsComments are closed.
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