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Ramsey Campbell, Probably
edited by ST Joshi,
introduction by Douglas E Winter
(PS Publishing, £30/$45, 441 pages, signed limited edition trade paperback,
also available as signed limited edition hardback priced £65/$90, published
September 2002.)
If generosity were a sin, Ramsey Campbell would be burning on a rood
soaked in  paraffin
for evermore. Not that he would take his sentence alone. As an accessory
before the fact, I suppose I would also be due for punishment of my
own: I have looked forward to every publication -- to its generosity,
its muscular thinking, its frights -- since I first discovered England's
best horror author in my late teens. I admire his work, and frequently
take astonishment breaks: those seconds of profound wish fulfilment,
in which one realises that it couldn't have been phrased any better
than that, and that no other writer would have executed the task in
the same way.
I was delighted to receive, handed over, my copy of Ramsey Campbell,
Probably. If I owe my co-diners at the time an apology for ignoring
them for minutes as I gorged on a few articles in this book of non-fiction,
then I duly doff my hat and wipe the smile from my face. But I'm sure
they would understand. I opened at random at Campbell's review of Shaun
Hutson's Heathen: a brilliantly sustained piece of piss-taking
satire on the author, written in that author's traditional style. Then
I read a more favourable (and therefore surprising) reappraisal of the
work of James Herbert. Throughout, Campbell's intelligence and perception
is addictive.
Other writers, of course, come in for specific attention: Stephen King,
Dennis Etchison, Peter Straub ... not to mention a few names that I
had long since allowed to drift from the moorings: Jeter, Brite, Hudson,
Howard, Kane ... But the subject studies, as fascinating as they are,
are but a part of this powerful, gutsy work. Although Campbell knows
everyone in the horror field, or at least knows the work, I found at
least an equal amount of pleasure in reading about his thoughts on more
plucky matters. The reviews and character studies -- which are certainly
beautifully, funnily written -- tell as all we need to know about other
people.
I liked just as much the studies of more disparate subjects: for instance,
I loved Campbell's look into the world of spanking movies, the world
of Mary Whitehouse (a now-deceased purveyor of family values in the
arts), and the world of horror films -- good and bad. Let me give you
-- for the sake of salivation -- a few titles in Part One of ...
Probably alone: 'The Crime of Horror', 'A Horror Writer's Lexicon'
(which again exhibits Campbell's fine sense of wit), and 'To the Next
Generation'.
And no, I will not explain the title. Discovering that is one of the
reasons for reading this excellent book. Ignore the fuck-you price-tag
and the terrible cover; hope to God for a stronger spine than my own
copy had; and save up. The enthusiasm is contagious; even a sceptic
cannot remain inoculated against the man's humour, his energy, his verbal
plumpness, verve, his dexterity and bravado.
This book is the finest piece of non-fiction horror that I have read.
It is heartily commended. With all of the above, plus the reprinted
intros and outros to his own work, there is something for anyone with
any interest in the genre.
Review by David
Mathew
Elsewhere in infinity plus:
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