My introduction to ‘Charnel Glamour’ by Mark Samuels
The final collection of weird supernatural horror stories by the great Mark Samuels is now available from Chiroptera Press. I was honored to be asked by Mark to write the introduction to it. What I didn’t and couldn’t know when I accepted his invitation was that Charnel Glamour would end up being Mark’s last, and would be published posthumously, several months after his sudden and untimely death in December 2023.
With the blessing of both Chiroptera Press and Hippocampus Press (the latter of which will be publishing a paperback edition in 2025), I have shared the full text of my introduction at my Living Dark newsletter. It includes not just my introduction to Mark’s book but my reminiscence of our more than two decades of friendship, standing as my tribute to him:
Forbidden Transmissions: An Introduction to Charnel Glamour
Here are two passages from that intro:
When my instinctive move in reflecting on Mark’s new book is to think back to where his career began, and to remember our early acquaintance, and to consider how this informs my own reading of Charnel Glamour, maybe I’m just trying to explain to myself how twenty years can possibly have passed, and why the memory of Mark’s first book still resonates with me all these years later, and how it is that he writes weird supernatural horror stories that patch directly into my apprehension, amplified by the passage of time, of the strange fact that we live in a world of phantoms in which we ourselves, despite our presumed solidity, may be the very source of spectrality….
[T]he Samuelsian weird fictional cosmos…is a place where I can sense some of the most pointedly personal intimations of metaphysical fear from throughout my lifetime peering through the elements of the various narrative vehicles that Mark has constructed for conveying his vision. Readers of such stories—readers like you and me—find pleasure in this emotion of weird and numinous fear. At the same time, we also recognize that stories like this are about more than just delivering a few literary fictional pleasures. They carry the ring or scent of truth. They feel like revelations, like forbidden transmissions, like windows or doorways to something that is real, but that we are otherwise not allowed to acknowledge or talk about. In short, they feel a lot like the supernaturally potent books-as-carriers that show up in many of the stories themselves.
