mark monday's Reviews > The Citadel of Fear

"Francis Stevens" was Gertrude Barrows, one of the very few female writers of strange fiction to catch the public's eye in the early 20th century. Kudos, Ms. Barrows!

This was a lot of fun. The author weaves in elements of various genres that I haven't previously seen put together: bold adventures in a lost world, the unknowable forces of weird fiction, Aztec mythology, off-kilter suburban horror, a gothic landscape right outside of that suburbia, and a rather Götterdämmerung-esque scene of gods at battle. Definitely some points awarded for the sheer creativity on display. I didn't love one of the heroines (too submissive) but she redeems herself with a display of forthright bloodthirstiness. The other heroine was great - strong and clever and quite capable of forcing a conservative husband to finally do something active besides get on the phone to complain to the police. And the protagonist is one of those oversized lunks with a brash, naive manner but of course a heart of gold, which is one of my favorite archetypes. Best of all is a key horror set that appears twice, first in a strange forgotten land and then in the outskirts of a bedroom community: a foggy, murky marsh full of horrible beasts that somehow exists indoors. Like in a building and accessed through a doorway! Fascinating imagery.

I see that reviewers have complained about the abrupt shift from King Solomon's Mines type adventures to creeping dread in a middle class environment. I get it, it was pretty damn abrupt. But purposely so. I liked it - the shift made the whole experience all the more disorienting and original.

Here's a picture of Gertrude Bennett:



I love that sneaky smile. She knows something you don't.

UPDATE: according to a recent blog post on Wormwoodiana, the above photo is actually not the author. I love that photo, so that makes me a wee bit sad. However, I have to say that I love the photo included in the Wormwoodiana article of "the real Francis Stevens" just as much:



What is she looking at? Certainly not at you or me or any other insignificant human. Perhaps she has spied a portal between worlds, and the etheric beings floating through that can only be seen by her third eye. Or some such faintly interesting vista.