Call me a mysoginistic, uncultured pig if you like, but I honestly think that Anne Rice's Witching Hour is a severe reminder of what happens when women and horror fall drunkenly into bed, clumsily fumbling around with each other before finally realising they never really liked each other in the first place.
I know it's terribly old-fashioned, and possibly offensive, but I have never read a horror novel by a woman author that truly scared me. I have read a *lot* of horror books and, don't get me wrong, there's a heap of piss-poor male authors in the genre too. But I have yet to find an equal to the genius of the Stephen King's and the Clive Barker's on the female side of the profession.
My wife, however, insisted that this was one of the best books she had ever read, so I put my chauvinistic socks back in the drawer and gave it a try.
The Witching Hour is the saga of a family of witches called the Mayfairs.
It charts the rise and demise of each generation's witch amid a central plot of the latest Mayfair witch's (Rowan Mayfair) search to find her roots and control her powers. Surprise, surprise, there is also a love interest skulking around - a man whose life Rowan saves and who is given the power to see the history of an object he touches. Rowan tries hard to end the sinister nature of the family, but has to battle against a spirit called Lasher, who gave the Mayfair witches their power to start with. I don't want to give too much of the plot away, since you may well end up reading this book, and enjoying it - who am I to say?
Let me, instead, come to the problem I have with this, and other female horror novels. Perhaps I can return to my sex analogy here. The feeling I get from this book, in particular, is that its difference from male horror novels lies in its approach - much as women's ideas of sex differ from males. There is a *lot* of foreplay in this book. The beginning is 400 pages of pure emotional drivel. Now, I fully understand that you cannot always just leap into the most exciting part of a horror novel - setting the scene and pace are of the utmost importance in any fictional work. I do, however, find 400 pages a little bit overboard for setting the scene. There are little hints of things to come, but it's sort of like snogging for four hours with the prmoise of sex repeated again and again - a little frustrating, to say the least.
The second part of the book starts off very well. "There's hope to be had, yet" you may think to yourself. The shirts have started coming off; a hand wanders a little further southwards; anticipation mounts. But, alas, it's all just a manipulative ploy. The end of the second part tapers back off to some mild petting and maybe a lovebite.
On to Part Three - ooops, she's just put all her clothes back on and is holding your hand. Maybe women authors don't want to scare you too much at once - Anne Rice might well have believed that a breather was necessary at this juncture to calm those *ahem* shattered nerves. Whatever her motive, I felt very let down returning to the style and pace of part one.
The final part of the book does actually get going (mind, this is page 1000 or so) to a quivering little climax. Our metaphorical couple gets a little heavier but she ends up finishing on his leg is, perhaps, the best way to see it. There does not feel like there is any reader participation in this book - you are not invited to empathise or even really care about the characters.
My main problem with this novel is its over-emphasis on personal relationships. The love between Rowan and the man she saves is talked about endlessly. Obviously, any good horror story will have emotions and feelings - but only to the extent that you take an active interest in their well-being - not to the point where you can guess what kind of Vaelntine's card they would get each other, and be 90% certain of the colour of his underwear on any particular day.
Once again, I'm probably just being all pig-headed and male - but I honestly cannot find one redeeming factor in this peurile novel. Her language is uninspired, characters flat and story far too long-winded to care about. All in all, the thickest fly-swatter money can buy.
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Good op, though I always feel that Anne Rice is a little mis-cast as a horror author - the term gothic would probably better describe her. You are absolutely right - its one of the least frightening books around.
RichardW 21.07.2001 03:20
Excellent opinion, though I disagree with lots of it. Picking up Anne Rice and expecting to be 'scared' is a fool's quest - it's just not what she does. She does play the tease very well, which I guess would be very frustrating if you were looking for a big pay off. Mostly though, she's the queen of mood and atmosphere. A great op though - thoroughly enjoyed reading it.
seagulls-lost-horizon 21.07.2001 00:07
I don't read a lot of horor but if I did i'd give this a miss, thanks, I think it outlines the difference between the two sexes, good op
On the verandah of a great New Orleans house now faded a mute and fragile woman sits ... more
rocking. And the witching hour begins...Demonstrating once again her gift for spellbinding storytelling and the creation of legend Anne Rice makes real for us a gre...
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Advantages: It constantly has you on the edge of your seat and guides you to some staggering realisations about the characters and events that have occured!!! Disadvantages: none
Advantages: It constantly has you on the edge of your seat and guides you to some staggering realisations about the characters and events that have occured!!! Disadvantages: none
Jul 20th, 2001
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