Peter Straub, Ghost Story (1979)

Straub, Peter. Ghost Story. NY: Coward, McCann & Geoghegan, 1979.

Ghost Story at Goodreads


Rating:     8/10



There is a pattern to a Peter Straub novel. Consequentially, there is a pattern by which I read Peter Straub.

The first three quarters is taut prose, excellent character-building alongside a suspenseful plot: a mystery with some element of the supernatural. The next portion elevates the supernatural, as our characters choose to battle against evil forces. The final portion is exaggerated, a great climactic explosion while, for the most part, the characters have stopped evolving and, as they go all out against evil forces, threaten to become sentimental.

My reading pattern sees me glued to that first portion, interested still during the second, and unfortunately (but not always), disappointed by the finale. This was the case with Floating Dragon, which was proving to be my favourite Straub until that finish, and Shadowland which I read too long ago to truly reflect on. An exception is Mr. X, which despite some exaggerated fantastical elements, held me throughout, particularly as a result of its complexity.

While Ghost Story does follow this pattern, neither the fantasy nor the end are too outlandish, and the novel holds up well from start to finish.

Though a celebrated genre writer, Straub is foremost a stylist. His writing is patient and conscious of language. Atop this, his delineation of character is excellent, and makes the horror elements of his work truly threatening, in that we are interested in the people caught up in the tensions of his universe. Had the townsfolk of Milburn been generic slasher victims, we just wouldn't care much about them, and rather than sympathize with their situation, we may even root for evil. In addition to strong characters, and unifying those characters, is the character of the fictional town of Milburn, New York. The geography is among the best captured in a novel, elevating the basic function of setting.

Five elderly men of Milburn make up the Chowder Society, gathering regularly to share ghost stories. A year ago one of the men died, and now a second has also fallen victim to unusual circumstances. These men are strongly linked to one another, to their town, past, and through the malevolence of the woman hunting them down. Linked also to the folk tales that come full circle with their storytelling, and the title is only a representation of something greater, so that an arguably more appropriate title would be Creepy Folk Tales. The idea is that the evils our minds have conjured up in our folk years, in the form of ghosts and werewolves and vampires and changelings and the rest, are the result of a single malevolence that appears sporadically through time to wreak havoc in any given part of the world. In this novel that malevolence is seeking vengeance.

A truly fascinating concept. Interestingly, my attention was absorbed by the character relationships and the town, more even than by the evil spirit. It is as though the novel is primarily centred on these relationships, and the malevolence is introduced as an obstacle to test the relationships, like a death or a divorce or a car accident. Will these good folks pull through and overcome this situation? In all honesty, I would be intrigued by a Straub novel focusing on relationships with no element whatsoever of the supernatural. But he appears to have retired from writing.

On a side note, my copy contains one unusual printing error. Several pages repeat themselves: when you come across page 314, you can turn to page 283, and make your way back up the repeated thirty pages. I have the first edition but not sure which printing, and I wonder how much those thirty pages multiplied by the number of copies printed, cost the publisher (or printer). (Or forest.)

Peter Straub, Mr. X (1999)

Straub, Peter, Mr. X, 1999

Mr. X at Goodreads
Mr. X at IBList

Rating: 7/10


The publication of Mr. X in 1999 proved to be Peter Straub's return to supernatural horror, a genre in which he'd established himself throughout the 1970s and 80s and for which he still most recognized. The work received general acclaim from critics, as well as the Bram Stoker Award in the novel category. It's the third of Straub's novels I've read, following Shadowland (1980; read many years ago) and its follow-up Floating Dragon (1982; read in 2013). Though I tend to lose interest in far-flung supernatural elements, I enjoyed all three books mostly for their character development which surpasses that of most horror-labeled authors. Though I haven't yet tried any of the thrillers he was focused on during the 1990s and later, these might appeal to me more, and I understand they were quite well received.

The main plot and its related threads begin well into the novel, as protagonist Ned Dunstan returns to his home town of Edgerton, Illinois, sensing that his mother is in danger. In Edgerton he takes on the task of discovering his father's identity, a man seemingly obsessed with Lovecraft to the point that he believes his works are fact. Over the course of a few days, Ned is being pursued by a dark entity he refers to as Mr. X, meets his doppelgänger, gets to know his eccentric family while learning their many secrets, and discovers that he has some latent supernatural powers. Amid all this he finds the time to fall in love with the wife of one of the town's wealthier and more influential personages, and thereby becomes embroiled in town affairs. A busy man, this is a busy novel to keep any character occupied.

The novel contains a general mix of family mystery, the supernatural, Lovecraft parody and some horror violence to transcend genre (it is a supernatural horror mystery, with strong elements of family drama along with small town life, which Straub presents with great realism). The novel is complex in both genre and plot, its mystery quite enmeshed in detail, and is quite a fascinating read on many levels.

What is most interesting is that in a novel whose plot is based entirely on some wacky supernatural possibilities, the characters (and the town) are presented with plain realism. Supernatural abilities aside, relationships are presented in complex terms and personalities are attentively delineated. An example of the complexities is the treatment of Ned's lover Laurie Hatch, and here I will offer up some minor spoilers.

Like any standard youthful crush, Laurie comes into Ned's life and, through his eyes, is presented as a kind of female ideal: a beautiful woman, highly compatible, who proves to be actively supportive, sympathetic and great in bed. Yet the ideal wears away as Laurie, over the course of mere days, falls from her the pedestal Ned has placed her on through some remarks from her almost ex-husband that ring believable. As the ideal dissipates, she becomes a real person in Ned's eyes, and our hero must contend with certain aspects of her personality that are not only non-idealistic, but downright threatening. Ambiguities abound around sweet mistreated Mrs. Hatch, who might in fact be an active treasure hunter. Moreover, the complexities with an inheritance set up for Laurie's son Cobden intermingled with her active involvement in Ned's affairs eventually point to the possible truth of Hatch's accusations. At the end we are left with an ambiguous portrait of Ned's lover, and whether she is innocent victim or treasure hunter, their relationship, should it continue, is irreparably marred by the possibilities suggested in the theories that Ned assembles regarding the timeline of Laurie's involvement in his affairs. Perfectly clear, no?

While I generally preferred Floating Dragon while reading, the ending of Mr. X was far more satisfying, and though I was more engaged with Floating Dragon, in a technical sense Mr. X is the better achieved book, and I believe through time it will grow on me. The way Mary Lawson's Crow Lake, which I enjoyed very much while reading, nonetheless grew on me over time primarily due to its complexities and character development.

The novel is certainly not perfect. There is a certain neurosis in the way characters are described via conversation. Straub feels the need to detail mannerisms to a point that it interferes with the story development and is at times genuinely annoying. Like Floating Dragon and many a supernatural novel, Mr. X does not need to be as long as it is. The lengthy development of Ned and his nemesis in the earlier parts of the book, from childhood to school experiences are utterly fascinating and well paced, so that when the older Ned arrives at Edgerton the change of focus and pace, along with the detail orientation, forces the second half to drag at times. Yet a minor complaint for a complex work.

Peter Straub, Floating Dragon (1982)

Straub, Peter, Floating Dragon, Underwood-Miller, November 1982
__________, Floating Dragon, G.P. Putnam's Sons, February 1983

Rating: 7/10

Floating Dragon at Goodreads
Floating Dragon at ISFdb
Floating Dragon at IBList

For more Friday's Forgotten Books, please visit Patti Abbott's blog.


The populace of affluent Hampstead, Connecticut, and its outlying regions are unknowingly facing the fallout of leaked bioweapon DRG-16. Simultaneously a generation-dormant supernatural evil awakens to claim vengeance on the descendants of four families that had defeated its previous incarnations. This unusual mix of mad science and outright supernatural horror is a rare combination, and Straub's attempt is a worthwhile read. Admittedly there is at times a lack of balance between the two elements, with the supernatural kidnapping the reigns throughout the better portion of the latter parts of the novel, while I was hoping DRG-16 would interact more directly with the supernatural. Straub does attempt to meld the two with characters considering the possibility that the supernatural exists only their virus-affected minds, a great notion which he does not build upon beyond some brief discussion. While this would have been an excellent additional element to complicate the narrative, even eliminating some of the nightmarish visions in order to maintain its current length, I do understand that readers would be invested in the supernatural and this would only be a distraction; few would be caught up in this additional mystery, unless Straub set it up at the start of the novel.

The novel's build-up, or complication if we were to turn to Aristotle, is superbly presented. A layered narrative involving various styles, approaches and innumerable characters is solidly constructed. The town is delineated to such a point of clarity that I feel I can make my way through its streets, and the people are so invested in, though of course a fair share of stereotypes are included in their number, that like the town we see them clearly and never really lose track of even the minor players. The novel incorporates an incredible number of sub-genre elements, including serial killers, hallucinogenic experimental drugs, telepathy, doorway mirrors, walking dead, suicidal pets, a haunted house and a big bad monster. These items do not stray, since most are linked to either to our vengeful dragon or DRG-16. Some are hallucinations rendered by one of these evils, and Straub, for the first half of the novel at least, manages to balance each element well. Only when the book delves deeper into its hallucinatory faze do I feel his grasp has slipped.

The two elements that weaken the novel are the over-utilized visionary sequences and the elongated climax. Mid-way through the novel, as I was wholly immersed and speeding along, Straub shifts gears and guides us into a traffic jam of fire-bats, walking dead and beached corpses. The supernatural dragon is evoking hallucinations for our four heroes, and this overly-long section contains serious faults. Not only is it overly-long and repetitive in scope, it is unclear why the dragon, knowing who the family descendants are, did not attempt to defeat the four before they managed to unite. Was the dragon not yet strong enough? He seemed strong enough to at least attempt it, since his enemies too were unprepared at that time. This was the dragon's moment of defeat.

Overall I found myself more interested in the many sub-sequences littered throughout the novel. Leo Friedgood's descent into sexual depravity; the Norman brothers bullying Tabby while catering like puppies to a career thief; hack reporter Sarah's attempts to uncover the odd goings-on in the region; Richard Allbee's reminiscences on a 1950s television sitcom set; Clarke Smithfield's escape from his father; and so forth. The dragon distracted from these many interesting moments, and other than his incarnation as Bates Krell, he never manages to generate the tensions we encounter with real people. I suppose the supernatural is so fabricated that we are more invested in the real tensions devoted to the many characters.

Another element I enjoyed were Straub's post-modern touches, the notion that this novel is a creation of one of its characters, fictionalizing the actual events. If only Graham Williams was able to edit himself when describing those hallucinatory attacks, and that long climactic sequence. The singing, in this context, is perhaps a touch of modern absurdism, but even then a little silly.

Stephen King's more popular IT (1986) is similar to Floating Dragon in several aspects: from the notion that a group of close-knit friends mus battle some unseen evil that kills off townsfolk over different generations, down to the sexualization of the group's only female member. While King's novel holds up better at the finish line, Straub has a tighter build-up and proves, at least technically, to be somewhat superior. Perhaps Floating Dragon should have been a pre-The Talisman collaborative effort.

There is also a strong similarity between Floating Dragon and the recently reviewed Castle of Otranto (1764): both novels feature a vengeful spirit bent on destroying the descendants of a former enemy. Between the two we can see either side of a coin: whereas the family in Otranto is the antagonist and the spirit seeking proper justice, Straub's novel features a malevolent spirit, as is more common in horror .

As a final note I wanted to approach the novel through Robin Wood's idea that the monster in horror fiction (though he was referring to film) is an outsider, a creature marginalized from society's norm. In Floating Dragon our four heroes are themselves far from the norm: two are telepathic, one can foresee while the other can back-see (like Prometheus and brother Epimethius). If we were to apply the theory (more complicated than how I am presenting it here) along with the monster's relationship with the protagonists, perhaps this isn't a horror novel at all.