Herbert seems to really enjoying himself piling on his horrors with a trowel and you get the feeling some scores are being settled - he doubtless endeared himself to generations of schoolkids with the gory slaying of sadistic PE teacher Mr. John Holman, the young, resourceful scientist we meet at the beginning, just as the army are about to commit their catastrophic bloomer on Salisbury Plain, is at least bearable as the everyman-we're-all-rooting-for (Herbert's angry heroes would grate on me after a while in a way that GNS's equally samey, pipe-smoking equivalent somehow don't) but, for this reader, The Fog's power is down to it being mostly comprised of interlinked vignettes, many of which are bloody terrific, nasty-minded, incredibly violent short horror stories in their own right. This was certainly the Herbert i enjoyed most after The Rats - none of the rest bar Lair had the same effect. Tried The Dark again recently, wasn't the right time for me, so now, having abandoned that, might as well give up on The Fog around p.135 as well. In his hands he carried the severed, still bleeding head of his wife."Īpproaching four years and we've still never devoted a thread to The Fog, probably on account of it being as obvious a choice as the likewise neglected early Stephen King's.
His eyes were fixed straight ahead and his lips were frozen in a smile.
"For goodness sake don't leave this on Aunt Edna's chair!" - Sunday Times
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