David Smay on Fritz Leiber’s THIEVES’ HOUSE
He got an early education in rock’n’roll cynicism.
His horror movies were unimaginably eerie.
With Borges, one of the great masters of the short story.
As big as Bing, but he died in obscurity.
Dreaminess and lyricism in horror.
The wrong kind of feminist, the wrong kind of novelist.
The great striker of sentences between Joyce and Nabokov.
Revenge and cruelty are the wicked core of his films.
“The strange and sinister embroidered on… the normal and easy.”
There are no painters as articulate, self-aware, and playful.
He never ceased his restless formal innovations.
She radiated menace, steel and megawatt charisma.
“I will never be/finished removing/all these faces.”
Wondrous things pressing against the seams of the everyday…
His expressive line slashes to the emotional core of every scene.
Her books abrade the British literary canon.
Heroically engaged with his own alienation.
He wrote a fuck-you note to the 19th century. It was a scandalous hit.
Roger Vadim’s Blood and Roses: Sexy transgressive euro-Evil wins!
Eyes Without a Face: dispassionate yet romantic, gory yet lyrical
The boundary between uncanny and uncanny-fantastic is a difficult one.
Liminal Horror movies — between the supernatural and the everyday.