Category: Fiction


Lo straniero directed by Luchino Visconti (Italy, 1967)

L’Étranger directed by François Ozon (France, 2025)

These two films are seperated by almost half a century but are otherwise quite similar in mood. The source for both is of course Albert Camus’s 1952 novel which in English is generally translated as ‘The Outsider’. This is a kind of ur-text for existentialism.

In the afterward to the novel, Camus wrote of his Algerian anti-hero Meursault: “One wouldn’t be far wrong in seeing ‘The Outsider as a story of a man who, without any heroic pretentions, agrees to die for the truth.”

This is a neat sound bite but ignores the not irrelevant detail that this is also a man who killed an Arab man for reasons that are never entirely clear. Being blinded by the sun is his lame defence in the courtroom. Such a state of confusion might have accounted for one shot after being threatened with a knife but doesn’t explain why he then fired four more bullets into the lifeless body.

The Arab is basically a clunky plot device with racist implications. Camus doesn’t even bother to give readers the dead man’s name. The man’s anonimity is carried through to Visconti’s film but is partially corrected in Ozon’s version which ends with an image of the victim’s gravestone. In both films the focus is squarely on Meursault depicting him as a suave, elegant man of few words. Marcello Mastroianni has such a natural charm that it’s hard to think too badly of him. Benjamin Voisin conveys to cold-hearted detachment more convincingly.

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Two of the biggest movies around at the moment, both directed and starring strong-willed women, are “Wuthering Heights” (Emerald Fennell) and The Bride! (Maggie Gylennhaal) .

The first title comes with quotation marks, the second is rounded off with an exclamation point.

What can we deduce from these very deliberate uses of punctuation?

The scare quotes on the first comes as a warning that Emily Brontë’s 19th century tale of love and lust on the Yorkshire Moors is used only as a rough guide to the plot of film. There is no pretense that the original setting and storyline will be faithfully rendered. The boddice ripping frenzy captures the spirit of the novel but rides roughshod over the more nuanced details. Authenticity can go hang. 

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THE EMPUSIUM : A HEALTH RESORT HORROR STORY by Olga Tokarcsuk (translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones) – Riverhead Books, 2024

The Empusium is the story of sick men bad-mouthing women.

The main title is an invented portmanteau linking together two Greek words: symposium (a drink-fuelled philosophical debate) and empusa (a female shape-shifter). 

If, from the book’s subtitle, you are tempted to visualize crazed serial killers or scary monsters , change the thought. There is one mysterious death near the beginning but little that could be conventionally defined as a ‘horror story’. 

In an interview with Literary Hub, Tokarcsuk says “the choice of the horror genre  makes sense because the main theme of this book is essentially a horror story—of patriarchal horror, protracted in historical time, embedded within culture, with all its traditional features, such as rivalry, a black-and-white, binary view of the world, and misogyny.”

I wish I had known this before starting the novel.  It might have made my reading experience less of a slog.

This is not a plot-driven story. It is slow, repetitive and frankly often rather dull. I suppose the prose is intended to replicate the tedium of the prescribed routines in a health resort but I can’t help feeling it could have been edited down and/or spiced up substantially.    

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‘My Year of Rest and Relaxation’ is a novel full of fear, anger, angst and pain but is also very funny. The unnamed protagonist is not particularly likeable but I had no trouble relating to her and understanding why the idea of a year of drugged-up hibernation so appealed to her. I loved her caustic wit.

In some ways hers is like a modern day version of Bartleby’s passive-aggressive “I would prefer not to” in Herman Melville’s short story but Ottessa Moshfegh’s story is much more extreme and could only have been written in the 21st century.   

Making the protagonist  young, pretty, thin and financially secure is a smart touch. It ensures that her opting out cannot he dismissed as her not fitting in. The fact that she ticks all the boxes of what is taken to be ‘successful’ means that we have to  look for other explanations to her behaviour.

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STARVE ACRE : a novel by Andrew Michael Hurley (First published by Dead Ink Books, 2019), a film by Daniel Kokotajlo (UK, 2024)

“What you go searching for and what you find aren’t always the same”

When you look for hope you can find horror or, in the case of Starve Acre, Folk Horror.

This term was first coined by The League of Gentleman’s Mark Gatiss and this flourishing subgenre is currently undergoing a major cinematic revival.

The film version of Andrew Michael Hurley’s sinister novella will add to the popularity of this moniker which is as uniquely British as Hammer Horror was in the 1960s.  It will also encourage the belief  that darkness lingers below of surface of  the apparently idyllic British countryside just as surely as Lynchian nightmares lurk behind white picket fences of middle America.

Andrew Michael Hurley’s distinctive third novel is a book about grief and a couple trying to overcome a personal trauma. The catalyst is that Richard and Juliette Willoughby’s 5 year old son, Ewan, has died suddenly in mysterious circumstances.

This tragic event occurs after the married couple’s move from the city (Leeds) to a house in the Yorkshire Dales inherited from Richard’s recently deceased parents. The new home is described as having three storeys of heavy stone, shuttered windows and a “utilitarian black” front door.

Heavy, shuttered and black? What could possible go wrong?

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