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Burial (1992)

de Graham Masterton

Altres autors: Mira la secció altres autors.

Sèrie: Harry Erskine (3)

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1082252,091 (3.53)1
First published in 1991, this is the story of New York City. Friday night. Untouched by anything visible, Mrs Greenberg's furniture starts to slide across the room - and however hard she tries, she can't move it back. Harry Erskine, self-taught fortune teller, agrees to investigate - but soon realises that Mrs Greenberg's moving furniture is just the beginning of a nightmare, for it is being drawn by the same inexorable force which drags us all to the grave. City by city, America is on the brink of falling into the abyss - women and children, streets and buildings - one and all brought thundering and screaming into the dominion of the dead...… (més)
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This one took me a loooong time to read. Sometimes, that's a good thing, because I find I'm enjoying the book so much that I take the time to savour the experience.

Other times, like this one, I take a long time because it's very much a chore. I literally have only one reason why I didn't just put this book down. But I'll get there.

Let's go back to the late 70s, and a 14-year-old, pointy-headed little nerd found Masterton's [b:The Manitou|2922126|The Manitou|Graham Masterton|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1285003329l/2922126._SY75_.jpg|2949432]. By now, that nerd had already read King's [b:Carrie|126459|Carrie|Stephen King|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1445287147l/126459._SY75_.jpg|1552134] and maybe even [b:'Salem's Lot|367638|'Salem's Lot|Stephen King|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1587030956l/367638._SY75_.jpg|3048937]. Regardless, Masterton blew my little pointy mind, and I suddenly made a switch from SF to Horror as a preference. I then proceeded to gobble up every Masterton (and King) book that came out. And, if I'm honest, I probably, by 1978, would have been hard-pressed to tell you which one was my favourite.

It didn't take long for Masterton to follow up that first Manitou book with a sequel, [b:Revenge of the Manitou|363410|Revenge of the Manitou (Manitou, #2)|Graham Masterton|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1297542607l/363410._SY75_.jpg|1827994], and I gobbled that one up too. Then, for whatever reason, my interest began to wane on Masterton. I read four more of his novels and, when I look at my bookshelf now, just stopped. Until this one. Hey, a third Manitou novel? I'm in!

I'm guessing this one my nail in the Masterton coffin back then, and it came damn close again, thirty years later. But why?

Because the first seven horror novels Masterton wrote were tight. The got in, got to the point, gave you some chills and thrills, and got out of the way again.

But some thirteen years on from that first one, this third Manitou installment is about 150 pages too long (clocking in at a hair over 400 pages), and he's fallen into the habit that I noticed when I started reading his Katie Maguire series: that is, gore over horror, and the inclusion of at least one cringe-inducing, exceptionally awkward and very explicit sex scene for no discernable reason.

That would be bad enough, but in between the gore and stupid sex, in this novel, Masterton, who's made it very clear in the previous novels that his protagonist, Harry Erskine, is a sarcastic smartass, simply makes him over-the-top unlikable, by having him cracking jokes far too often, and in completely inappropriate scenes. His girlfriend Karen, for example, disappears. And within pages, instead of grieving her loss, he's cracking stupid jokes. He's like that one uncle that, for the sake of family unity, has to be invited to Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years, but absolutely everyone avoids, because he's going to embarrass himself every single time.

And let's also talk about the Karen girlfriend. She shows up, and basically professes her love and lust for Harry, despite showing absolutely no sign of that up to that point. And, while Masterton goes to pains to illustrate an older cougar secondary character and her ridiculous chasing of young men, the author shows not a whit of irony or concern at having this much younger woman chasing an old, creepy, Harry.

There's far too much happening here, there's far too many characters, there's far too much of each of those characters musing on...stuff. This book pretty much fails at every level. And it blows me away that an author that was, if not great, at least was very good, found a way to become awful, the longer he wrote.

So why did I finish it? Because I made a promise to myself that I'd read all six Manitou novels, and the short story that comes right after this one. What can I say, I try to be a completist.

But I'll also say, another entry as bad as this one and the plan may be shot to hell. ( )
  TobinElliott | Sep 3, 2021 |
NIL
  rustyoldboat | May 28, 2011 |
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Nom de l'autorCàrrecTipus d'autorObra?Estat
Graham Mastertonautor primaritotes les edicionscalculat
Giancola, DonatoAutor de la cobertaautor secundarialgunes edicionsconfirmat

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First published in 1991, this is the story of New York City. Friday night. Untouched by anything visible, Mrs Greenberg's furniture starts to slide across the room - and however hard she tries, she can't move it back. Harry Erskine, self-taught fortune teller, agrees to investigate - but soon realises that Mrs Greenberg's moving furniture is just the beginning of a nightmare, for it is being drawn by the same inexorable force which drags us all to the grave. City by city, America is on the brink of falling into the abyss - women and children, streets and buildings - one and all brought thundering and screaming into the dominion of the dead...

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