Caitlín R. Kiernan

1964-

Reviewed by Kelly Lasiter
Robert Thompson, Kat Hooper

Caitlín R. Kiernan is a paleontologist. Besides these novels, she has written science fiction, numerous scientific papers, stories and novellas (some published as collections), chap books, and comic books. Visit Caitlín R. Kiernan's website.

Click covers to view available formats, including audio & Kindle.

Silk & Murder of Angels — (1998, 2004) Publisher: Spyder Baxter is the patron saint of the alienated and lost. She invites them into her mesmerizing world of ritual and ceremony, blood and fire... a realm of vengeful gods, of exiled spirits harboring the dark secrets of Hell — and the darker secrets of Heaven. But is she their guardian angel — or a much more terrifying force sent not to redeem, but to destroy?

Caitlín R Kiernan Silk Murder of Angels book review

book review Caitlín R. Kiernan Silk Murder of Angels

fantasy book review Caitlín R Kiernan Silk Silk: Oh, what a tangled web...

I'm trying to remember how long ago I first read Silk. It may have been as much as ten years ago, when the book was new. I can't say for sure, but I can say that few books have stayed with me the way Silk has. Even when I'd forgotten the details of the plot, images remained: the horror of the climactic scene, the kudzu-strangled trees. A few years after reading Silk, I went on a road trip through the South, and I couldn't help but think of Spyder Baxter when I saw a clearing where the trees had been so swallowed by the kudzu, they resembled ivy-covered pillars of some ruined church.

I reread Silk in one sitting last month, on a night when I was in a melancholy mood and snow was falling hard outside. I'd forgotten that there's a freak snowstorm in Silk. Once again, I felt a strange closeness to the story, watching the snow pile high while the characters were doing the same thing.

The novel is a haunting blend of horror and old-school urban fantasy, the kind of urban fantasy that has less to do with badass back-tattooed vigilantes and more to do with alienation from mainstream society. The central characters are a loosely connected group of struggling musicians and troubled goths trying to make it on the streets of Birmingham Alabama. They're broke, most of them come from traumatic pasts, drugs are endemic, and alliances among the group are shifting. The brightest spot in their lives is the relationships they forge in the face of problems both mundane and magical.

Because, as if these characters didn't have enough to deal with, supernatural forces are lurking at the edges of their lives, with tragic results for several of the group. Caitlín R. Kiernan blurs the lines between vision, dream, and drug trip, and evokes the terror the characters feel at not knowing what is real and what is imagined. The fantasy elements are drawn from an eclectic mix of mythologies; there are references to the Orpheus myth, Native American lore, and the legend of the Nephilim, with an eerie little cameo by Virginia Dare. The connections are sometimes left hazy, but somehow it all works anyway, and it's scary as hell to boot.

The characters are sometimes challenging to me, mainly because some of them come off as complete jerks. I got my fill of pretentious arguments about music and the fine distinctions between this subculture and that subculture long ago. Then again, I think they're probably written that way on purpose, and thankfully, most of the story is told from the point of view of the two characters I liked, Daria Parker and Niki Ky.

Kiernan's prose is dense and detailed, and she writes about the squalid and the macabre as lovingly as she describes the beautiful. I think that's why images from Silk stayed with me so long. You can't help but get a vivid mental picture of everything she describes. Here's an example; I really liked this passage:

Spyder Baxter's shop looked like something displaced, something stolen from the streets of New Orleans maybe, and wedged in tight between Steel City Pawn and First Avenue Rent-2-Own. Daria paused before the display window, fly-specked and ages of dust gathered in the corners like little dunes, parabolic drifts against smeared glass and rusted frame and a handful of dead bugs thrown in for good measure. Weird Trappings' handpainted sign swayed and squeaked faintly on its uneven chains, approximate Gothic in clumsy black and purple slashes across whitewashed tin.

Though occasionally the prose does seem a little overwrought to me:

She finally found the key that fit right, that had the right number of peaks and valleys of the proper heights and depths cut in the right order, held it tight in her trembling fingers and turned the dead bolt, opened the door and stepped into the murky warmth of the house.

(I'm not sure I need quite that much detail about finding the house key, but in most places the intricate detail is a plus.)

Silk isn't a perfect novel. As I mentioned above, there are some connections left vague, some things never quite explained. I wonder if things become clearer in Murder of Angels, or if the vagueness is part of the intended effect, so that some mysteries remain. I also got irked after a while by the fact that "fat" seems to be synonymous, here, with "mundane and narrow-minded," but I can kind of see why these particular characters would think that way, since they spend much of the novel not having enough to eat.

Still, it's a very good novel, and one that has made a lasting impression on me. I don't think I'll ever forget it. —Kelly Lasiter


Chance & Deacon — (2001-2007) In the Garden of Poisonous Flowers and Alabaster are stories about Dancy Flammarion. Publisher: Chance Matthews, a troubled young woman grieving over the death of her grandfather, stumbles upon a bizarre fossil among her geologist grandparents' artifacts, a discovery that lead to an encounter with a strangle girl who claims to have been charged with the task of battling monsters and who is out to enlist Chance's assistance in her quest.
Novels about Chance & Deacon:	Stories about Dancy Flammarion:
Daughter of Hounds (with discussion of Threshold and Low Red Moon) Always on the lookout for a new author to sink my teeth into, I decide to read Caitlín R. Kiernan when I came across her novel Daughter Of Hounds. Upon further research, I discovered that this was merely the newest entry involving psychic Deacon Silvey. Knowing that, I decided to check out Ms. Kiernan’s previous works first, starting with her sophomore effort Threshold. After completing the book, I admit I was torn. On the one hand, Threshold offered a lot to like: flawed, yet interesting characters; a thought-provokingly surreal world to explore; and a promising new talent in Ms. Kiernan whose gifted prose definitely made the story shine. On the other hand, I felt that the book’s ending was too ambiguous for my tastes — even if that was the author’s intention — and left me feeling unsatisfied. So, it was with some trepidation that I undertook the follow-up novel Low Red Moon. Suffice it to say that I enjoyed this volume much more than Threshold. Once again following the exploits of Deacon Silvey and Chance Matthews, and introducing us to the likes of serial killer Narcissa Snow, the Children of the Cuckoo and the Hounds, Low Red Moon is a more clear-cut, yet still complex horror tale that brilliantly straddles the line between the visceral and the bizarre. Which finally brings me to Daughter of Hounds. First of all, I don’t think it is necessary to have read either Threshold or Low Red Moon to understand and enjoy Daughter of Hounds, for each novel easily stands on its own, though I would recommend Low Red Moon since Daughter of Hounds seems to be a more direct sequel to that book. Of course, if you’re someone who enjoys all those subtle nuances and references that Daughter of Hounds possesses, then I would, by all means look into Ms. Kiernan’s previous works. Now, Daughter of Hounds… what can I say? Of the three novels that I’ve read by Caitlín R. Kiernan, I enjoyed Daughter of Hounds the most for many reasons. To begin with, the writing is just magnificent. Ms. Kiernan has vastly matured as an author and the pose and command with which she brings her vivid imagination to life is awe-inspiring. Secondly, the characters… Though set in the same world as Threshold and Low Red Moon, previous protagonists take a back seat to a whole new cast that includes Soldier, Emma Jean Silvey, Pearl, “Odd Willie” Lothrop, Saben White, and the Bailiff, not to mention a more in depth look at the Children of the Cuckoo and the Hounds of Cain. While the narrative switches mainly between Soldier and Emma Jean, each unique character figures prominently in the overall tale and end up much more complex than they first appear — a standout trait of Ms. Kiernan’s. Finally, the story itself is a beautiful amalgam of gothic horror, urban fantasy and mythological fiction that transcends genre restraints, and is, at its core, a powerful tale of self-discovery and living with the choices that we make. Undoubtedly, I have become an avid fan of Caitlín Kiernan and highly recommend her novels to anyone who likes their books full of ambitious ideas, poetic wording, compelling characters, and open-ended conclusions that challenge the readers’ own imagination. In short, I will anxiously be awaiting Caitlín R. Kiernan’s next creation. —Robert Thompson

Stand-alone novels and collections:

Tales of Pain and Wonder — (1998) Publisher: This collection of twenty-two short stories by the author of Daughter of Hounds and Alabaster, originally published in 2000, firmly established Caitlín R. Kiernan as one of the preeminent voices in dark fantasy today. Through a cycle of interconnected narratives, Kiernan unflinchingly explores a surreal world where the fantastic and the mundane are never separated by more than the insubstantial thickness of a shadow. From the murderous backstreets of New Orleans to an abandoned shipyard of the Hudson River, from sun-weary Los Angeles to a maze of dank and forgotten tunnels beneath Manhattan, these stories present a landscape at once alien and undeniably familiar. Including such acclaimed tales as "Estate" (selected for The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror), "Postcards from the King of Tides" (selected for The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror), "In the Water Works" (the basis of Kiernan's award-winning second novel, Threshold), and "Tears Seven Times Salt" (to be reprinted in The Century's Best Horror), Tales of Pain and Wonder is destined to stand as a modern classic of weird and supernatural fiction. This edition includes a new, previously unpublished story, as well as an introduction by Douglas E. Winter and an afterword by Peter Straub.

Wrong Things — (2001) With Poppy Z Brite. Publisher: This short collaborative collection contains an original novella by Caitlín R. Kiernan, an original novella by Poppy Z. Brite, and a brand-new collaborative story by Caitlín and Poppy set in Poppy's fictional stomping grounds of Missing Mile, North Carolina. Wrong Things also features an exclusive afterword by Caitlín, 10 full-page interior illustrations by Richard Kirk.

From Weird and Distant Shores — (2002) Publisher: From Weird and Distant Shores: This collection of thirteen short stories by the award-winning author of Silk and Tales of Pain and Wonder establishes Caitlín R. Kiernan as one of today's most versatile fantasists. Spanning and transcending the fields of fantasy, dark fantasy, and science fiction, these stories include some of Kiernan's early and hard-to-find work, and explore the limits of that ubiquitous bane of contemporary F&SF, the "theme" and "shared-world" anthology.

Five of Cups — (2003) Publisher: This is three-time IHG award-winning author Caitlín R. Kiernan's long unpublished, "lost" first novel. The manuscript was completed early in 1993 (with some notes and fragments for the book dating back to Kiernan's high school days). The Five of Cups was lauded by numerous established horror authors, landed Kiernan her first agent, was the subject of a 1996 Writer's Digest interview, and was even sold, but never published. Why? As the author says, "It's a long story." The Five of Cups attempts to blend the two dominant subgenres of the contemporary vampire tale, crossing the historical Gothic with the gritty, urban realism of "splatterpunk." Grounded in the squalor of street-life in Atlanta in the early 1990s, but with an epic scope that encompasses the Irish famine of 1847, a yellow-fever epidemic in 1853 New Orleans, and the Union assault on Atlanta in 1864, Kiernan describes the novel as an "overly-ambitious jumble of competing ideas and subplots, trying to unite vampirism, the grail myth, the tarot, T. S. Eliot's The Waste Land, and the Arthuriad into a single, coherent storyline." Though Kiernan has been privately offered as much as $500 for manuscript copies of the novel and major publishers continue to express interest in the work, she has refused to allow its release until now. The Five of Cups will be published solely as a limited edition, the author providing an extensive introduction relating to the genesis, history, and her present feelings about the book. The Five of Cups allows us a rare glimpse into the mind of one of dark fantasy's most important and celebrated voices at a formative stage in her career. The Subterranean Press edition will be the only edition published and will include the following: The original introduction, written by Poppy Z. Brite in 1996. A lengthy new introduction by the author. A 1999 essay on The Five of Cups written by Kiernan for her newsletter, Facsimiles of original notes, outlines, correspondence, rejection slips, photos, and fragments from Kiernan's files and notebooks. Black-and-white interior illustrations by Richard Kirk.

To Charles Fort, with Love — (2005) Publisher: To Charles Fort, With Love is award-winning fantasist Caitlín R. Kiernan's third collection of short fiction, a haunting parade of the terrible things which may lie beyond the boundaries of science, the minds which may exist beyond psychology, and the forbidden places which will never be located in any orthodox globe. To quote the object of Kiernan's affection, meta-poet and arch-enemy of dogma Charles Hoy Fort, "The little harlots will caper, and freaks will distract attention, and the clowns will break the rhythm of the whole with their buffooneries — but the solidity of the procession as a whole: the impressiveness of things that pass and pass and pass, and keep on and keep on and keep on coming." A deceptively even dozen, this collection includes Kiernan's celebrated stories "Onion" and "Andromeda Among the Stones," as well as a number of more obscure pieces. Though Kiernan was recently praised as "the new Lovecraft," these stories stand as testimony that she will never be merely the "new" anyone, that hers is a unique and demanding voice entirely unlike any other.

Beowulf — (2007) The novelisation of the movie. Publisher: Who will come to the aid of beleaguered King Hrothgar, whose warriors have become the prey of the vengeful outcast monster Grendel? A grand and glorious story that has endured for centuries, the ageless classic adventure takes on a breathtaking new life in a remarkable new version for a modern era. Brilliantly reimagined by acclaimed, award-winning author Caitlín R. Kiernan, based on the screenplay by #1 New York Times bestseller Neil Gaiman and Academy Award-winning screenwriter Roger Avary, it is the tale of a noble liege and a terrible creature who has cursed his kingdom with death, blood, and destruction — and of the great hero, Beowulf, who is called to a land of monsters to triumph where so many have failed... or to die as so many of the brave before him.

The Red Tree — (2009) Publisher: Sarah Crowe left Atlanta, and the remnants of a tumultuous relationship, to live alone in an old house in rural Rhode Island. Within its walls she discovers an unfinished manuscript written by the house’s former tenant — a parapsychologist obsessed with the ancient oak growing on a desolate corner of the property. And as the gnarled tree takes root in her imagination, Sarah risks her health and her sanity to unearth a revelation planted centuries ago…

fantasy book review Caitlín R. Kiernan The Red Tree The Red Tree

What a strange book! Then again, I know never to expect the expected when reading Caitlín R. Kiernan.

The story centers on Sarah Crowe, a writer who moves to an isolated house in Rhode Island after her lover's death. Beset by writer's block, she finds herself unable to write the novel her contract demands, and instead becomes obsessed with an old manuscript she finds in the basement. This manuscript was written by a previous tenant of the house who died before he could complete it, and is a collection of lore concerning a mysterious red oak tree on the property. Sarah begins a diary of sorts, interspersed with passages from the manuscript, which chronicles her life in Rhode Island: her anguish over her lover's death, her tumultuous relationship with the new tenant who moves in upstairs, and her increasingly creepy experiences with the red tree.

Kiernan does a great job of evoking the terror of not knowing what is real and what is imagined. Is Sarah haunted, or is she deluded? There is no definitive answer to this question, and readers are left to draw their own conclusions. Adding to this deliberately created sense of uncertainty is Sarah's unreliability as a narrator. Sarah admits that she sometimes lies, sometimes forgets things, and when she can't remember something or can't face it, she often makes things up which nonetheless contain a kernel of deeper truth. Once she begins to doubt her sanity, it's even harder to discern what is "real."

I was engrossed in The Red Tree from the beginning. If there was anything that slowed me down at all, it was the excerpts from the found manuscript. Part of the reason these slowed me down is that Kiernan is intentionally (and skillfully) emulating a folklore-writing style that is dense, meandering, and a little dry. But part of it is that the type itself is harder to read in these sections. In order to illustrate that this manuscript was created on an old typewriter and left to molder in the basement for years, it's printed in "distressed" Courier. Especially when I read late at night, I couldn't help but be reminded that I'm not getting any younger! That said, these sections are important and interesting. They intertwine with Sarah's own narrative and sometimes help make sense of her experiences.

I finished The Red Tree several days ago, and I'm still thinking about it. I think I probably need to read it again just to make sure I caught everything. It won't be for everyone, but readers willing to embrace a little ambiguity will be rewarded with a layered, atmospheric tale. —Kelly Lasiter

Two Worlds and In Between: The Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan (Volume One) — (2011) Publisher: Caitlín R. Kiernan's short fiction was first published in 1995. Over the intervening decade and a half, she has proven not only one of dark fantasy and science fiction's most prolific and versatile authors, but, to quote Ramsey Campbell, "One of the most accomplished writers in the field, and very possibly the most lyrical." S.T. Joshi has written, "Kiernan's witchery of words creates a mesmerizing effect that we haven't seen since the days of Lovecraft and Bradbury." Two Worlds and In Between: The Best of Caitl'n R. Kiernan (Volume One) presents a stunning retrospective of the first ten years of her work, a compilation of more than two hundred thousand words of short fiction, including many of her most acclaimed stories, as well as some of the author's personal favorites, several previously uncollected, hard-to-find pieces, and her sf novella, The Dry Salvages, and a rare collaboration with Poppy Z. Brite. Destined to become the definitive look at the early development of Kiernan's work, Two Worlds and In Between is a must for fans and collectors alike, as well as an unprecedented introduction to an author who, over the course of her career, has earned the praise of such luminaries as Neil Gaiman, Peter Straub, Charles De Lint, and Clive Barker.

Two Worlds and In Between: The Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan

Two Worlds and In Between: The Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan is a collection of Caitlín R. Kiernan’s works which span the years 1993-2004. In this collection there are 24 short stories, one poem, one novella, an introduction by the author, and a short afterword for each work. The stories are arranged in chronological order, letting the reader watch the progression of Kiernan’s style and the noticeable changes in her stories’ subject matter as she matures. Some of these stories are award winners and all have been published previously (though some have undergone extensive revisions since their original publication). A few have subtle connections to each other. A second volume of Kiernan’s stories will be published by Subterranean Press in 2014.

I’m certain that I was not the best choice of reviewer for Two Worlds and In Between. Sub Press sent me a copy and I probably should have passed it along to Terry or Marion, but I’ve been meaning to read Kiernan for years, and this seemed like a good opportunity. I’m glad I’m now familiar with Kiernan’s work, though I have to admit that I didn’t enjoy the book.

The problem is me, not Kiernan. Her prose is beautiful, her imagery is stunning, and her characters feel incredibly real. However, her stories are full of things I generally don’t like to spend my time thinking about. There are far too many cockroaches, chapped lips, suicides (botched and successful), drownings, scabs, bruises, rotting corpses, junkies, rapists, therapists, and men in ladies’ panties. The pages are full of pus, blood, sweat, viscera, cigarette smoke, mildew, piss, shit, and cum. Most of the people we meet are depressed, in pain, empty and, usually, suicidal.

In addition, I found the plots to be too episodic and indistinct for my taste. Kiernan admits in her afterward to “From Cabinet 34, Drawer 6” that “Most times, a story comes to me as an image, a jumble of images, a character, a name, fragments, or a confetti of words. I don’t think in plots. I don’t have clever ideas.” You can definitely become completely submerged in these images and characters, but if you do, you’ll probably feel like killing yourself.

It wasn’t all complete misery, however. There were a few moments of... well, I wouldn’t call it brightness... let’s say moments of awe and maybe even an occasional small pang of pleasure:

“Rats Live On No Evil Star” — I almost enjoyed this little look at genius and madness.
“Riding the White Bull” — I believe this is CRK’s first science fiction story. The world-building is excellent and it is refreshing to get so far away from her frequently used clove-drenched Gothic Industrial setting.
“The Daughter of the Four of Pentacles” — This is the style of “dark” that I prefer — it’s weird and unsettling, but mentions of bodily fluids are scant.
“The Dry Salvages” — This science fiction novella was hard to put down. It, and a few other stories in the collection, make excellent use of Kiernan’s background in paleontology.

Those were the only four stories I enjoyed in this collection, and even they feel hopelessly miserable. But I am glad to have finally acquainted myself thoroughly with Caitlín R. Kiernan’s work. I have the utmost admiration for her talents but, truthfully, I just don’t want to visit her worlds. They are beyond bleak and when I was there, I suffered along with her characters and I couldn’t wait to get out. Even in small doses, Caitlín R. Kiernan is just too dark for me. Two Worlds and In Between: The Best of Caitlín R. Kiernan is, however, a must-read for fans of Kiernan, or for anyone who prefers their fantasy uncomfortably dark.
—Kat Hooper

The Drowning Girl — (2012) Publisher: India Morgan Phelps — Imp to her friends — is schizophrenic. Struggling with her perceptions of reality, Imp must uncover the truth about her encounters with creatures out of myth-or from something far, far stranger...

You can support FanLit by purchasing books (or anything else) through our Amazon links. Or donate.
© 2007-2012 Fantasy Literature
The FTC wants you to know that we often receive free review copies from publishers.

Follow @FanLit

Admin