Review of A Collapse of Horses by Brian Evenson

Evenson is one of the few genuinely creepy authors still writing.

When run-of-the-mill horror stories simply rely on blood and guts and killer clowns, we are likely to grow bored with the brainlessness of contemporary horror offerings. That is when you should read Brian Evenson to freshen your hope in the genre’s potential. His brand of horror is brother to confusion.
The stories in this collection rely heavily on dialogue. That is where their driving force can often be pinpointed. Some of his dialogue reads like Beckett. For instance. “What are you doing in that tree?” asks one character. “What tree?” comes the reply.
Characters are often not perceiving the same reality. It dawns on the reader that something about the reality being described is off, but we would be hard-pressed to say what is wrong about it.
Mysteries underlie the often open-ended scenarios depicted. Don’t come to this collection seeking closure.
A narrator lies in a cell, alone. They hear screams. The man in the cell next to them is being tortured. Much time passes. Guards torture other prisoners seemingly at random. There is no rhyme or reason for the torture. It simply happens. It must be tolerated.
Horror surrounds us. But we can choose to ignore it. We can become inured to it. It ceases to be horror when it becomes mundane. Yet there is a sudden realization sometimes that might strike us that mundane things contain a secret layer of horror.
Evenson stories teach us to see the horror in crevices we are not likely to peer into.
Come for precise storytelling.
One man tells the story of a slab of black bark which always reappears in a jacket pocket. The horror in the story depends on what goes unexplained. The fact that most of the universe remains unexplained, and in the end must be unexplainable is an abstract horror which will dawn on the reader repeatedly while reading this collection if they are paying attention.
One of the great things about this author is how much he’s written. You are unlikely to run out of reading material soon. His brand is not so much a brand as a species of horror.
His style is straightforward, but not overly detailed. He favors minimalism – a concept Thomas Ligotti might’ve benefitted from employing.
One lesson to draw from his work seems to be the unsettling fact that you will never grok another person. They might at any time act in such a way as to defy reason. They are separate entities from you. You cannot know how they will react. What’s to stop anyone, at any time, from doing something completely unexplainable?
A great mix and a great intro to his perturbing world. Looking forward to my next foray.