Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay

A review of The Devil Took Her: Tales of Horror, by Michael Botur

I’ve read a couple of Botur’s short story collections (True and Lowlife) and he’s a masterful practitioner of the form. While the stories in these collections are eclectic, they are connected by both Botur’s powerful and distinctive personal voice and a focus on life at the edges of contemporary society. The Devil Took Her is a little different in that it’s Botur’s first horror-themed collection. That organising principle alone makes it more focused than previous works, but Botur is certainly no one-trick pony and the eclectic nature of his imagination still shines, with the requisite monstrosity of the genre appearing in different guises, from actual monsters (most notably the giant and voracious spirit bird of The Day I Skipped School), through to monstrous people, and on to people trapped in monstrous situations.

In The Devil Took Her, the focus is again on characters operating (or perhaps struggling to operate) on the fringe, isolated from society proper. This makes sense, for isolation is one of the key conventions of the horror genre, and even in stories where the protagonists aren’t physically isolated, they’re psychologically or emotionally isolated; there’s something about them that means they just don’t fit in, no matter how desperately they might try.

Along with the monsters, the tone of these stories is also eclectic. Some are gross and gory, some are haunting, some are creepy, some are threaded with Botur’s trademark black humour. All of them are disturbing. This is not a criticism. I enjoy watching horror movies, or at least ones fueled by good storytelling and genuine scares rather than blood and guts. Watching movies tends to be a social activity and in that environment, being scared can be fun. Indeed, that would be one of the major factors in my judgement of quality — that I enjoyed myself, that I had fun. I know I’m not alone in thinking that.

Reading, on the other hand, is not a social activity and (aside from Underground, the story of an ambitious record label exec’s descent into hell), the stories in The Devil Took Her are not fun. What they are is disturbing. It’s a mark of just how disturbing that my reaction to them was physical. At times, I found myself short of breath, mouth dry, skin literally itching, as if I’d been for a bush walk and brushed up against some evil, toxic plant. At other times I felt sick, my stomach clenched tight, on the verge of nausea. It got to the point where after a few daily sessions I had to take a break from reading because I couldn’t deal with the physical symptoms anymore. Yet compelled, I returned a few days later to finish off.

So, in the end, it’s a challenge to make a judgement call on The Devil Took her. Did I enjoy reading it? Ahhh… no, not really. Does that mean it’s bad? Oh God no, quite the opposite. Would I read it to my kids before they went to bed? No I wouldn’t, but then they’re a little young. Your average older teenager, being the strange, twisted creatures that they often are, could get a real kick out of it. Do I want to read more short horror stories by Botur? Hell yeah, but not today, thanks. I’m more in the mood for something comedic, perhaps even with a touch of romance. I’m just gonna have a squiz in our DVD cupboard. I’m sure there’s a copy of The 40-Year-Old Virgin in there somewhere.

Have you read The Devil Took Her, by Michael Botur, or any of his other books? Let me know in the comments.

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