I am a long time fan of the macabre elements of fiction and perhaps even a longer time fan of the fantasy genre in general. As such, I have read the ups and downs, the best and the worst, that authors have produced. I am, for lack of a better word, a book snob. Mind you that I make such a claim with great compunction and no shame whatsoever, and anyone who knows me would agree that it is more than true.
In my search for new and different reading material, I happened upon the work of one Mr. G. Wells Taylor. I explored the Official When Graveyards Yawn Web Site at Wildclown.com and some very disturbing downloadable excerpts and images stirred my interest. These were not disturbing in a negative manner, quite the contrary. I found that the images and words lingered in my mind because they tore at the basis of reality, the basis of all good fantasy literature, but only slightly. The work is definitely a work of fantasy, but the context was close enough to reality to make one feel uneasy.
Naturally with this lingering image in my head I had to contact Mr. Taylor to find out more about the book. After e-mailing him and discussing our company and its fantasy bent, Mr. Taylor was kind enough to send me out a reviewer's copy of the book. I immediately began my descent into Greasetown and the world of When Graveyards Yawn.
Immediately I was caught up in the setting of the book, the mythical city of 'Greasetown'. Greasetown not only comes to life in the book, you start to feel a part of the city. Whether or not Greasetown is totally a physical place or perhaps more a conglomeration of the hopes and dreams and ideals of humanity long since twisted beyond recognition. Whatever the case, Greasetown is too realistic and familiar to remain a static image. I began placing the shops and downtown streets of my home city and of others I've visited into my mental image of Greastown.
The dynamics of the setting amazed me right off. We have a gritty inner-city setting crammed tight with people and buildings, but at the same time lonely and even a little vulnerable. Some of that vulnerability comes from the time aspect of the setting too...right after the end of the world.
Of course, it didn't all end at once, just a little at a time. Everything started to fall apart, it started raining and the dead rose from the grave. All the survivors had to do was continue on like nothing had happened. Life, or some part of it, just kept going. No trumpets or second comings, just more life.
Take all of this and drop it into the laps of the main characters Wildclown and Elmo and suddenly you start to get a picture of this book. A mysterious clown detective and his trusty sidekick Elmo sitting in a tavern that could have come out of 'Casablanca' or a 'Mike Hammer' detective story acting like any normal day had just passed and yet both had been through the end of everything and have seemingly come out the other side.
You are never sure, throughout their adventures, whether they are grateful or sad to be alive. There seems to be a huge struggle within them both to keep moving and acting naturally, but never to slow down and really let it all sink in. Perhaps that is the manner in which we all move in our world, just put our minds to it and ignore the uncomfortable aspects of life.
With all of my deconstruction of this book, I can hardly find words to express the sense of the fantastic that it brings out. You really care about these detectives and their world. Greasetown comes alive as a character unto itself that seems to wrap itself around these two and all of the other inhabitants of their world. Everyone has a connection to the broader apocalyptic picture, but still possess a sense of hope.
A friend described this book to me, as I have purchased copies for everyone I know, as a cross between Alice in Wonderland and gangster style Chicago of the '20's. I must agree whole-heartedly. No book since the classic by Lewis Carol has conjured in my mind such images and haunted my vision of reality so much. I can't pass through my downtown without thinking of Wildclown's offices or the bar they hung out in. Every shady character or person in a clown suit, (believe it or not there are more of them around here than I care to admit!!), or late night passerby makes me think about Greasetown and the doomed inhabitants who really don't seem mind.
If in my ramblings I have not expressed it eloquently enough, this book is outstanding. It defies classification as horror or fantasy, but contains perhaps the best of both. Add to that a very well thought out sense of the mysterious and you've got a real winner. As a bibliophile from way back, this book proudly sits on my shelves alongside the other great works of fantasy and the macabre, waiting for its next victim, just as I sit and wait for Part 2!!!