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Danse Macabre :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 214 из 359For awhile it seemed that NBC might turn it into a weekly series, and when that rather numbing prospect passed by the boards, I felt relief again.
Most television series have ranged from the ludicrous ( Land of the Giants ) to the utterly inane ( The Munsters, Struck by Lightning ). The anthology series of the last ten years have meant well, by and large, but have been emasculated by pressure groups both without and within; they have been sacrificed on the altar of television's apparent belief that both drama and melodrama are best appreciated while in a semidoze. There was Journey to the Unknown , a British import (from the Hammer studios). Some of the stories were engrossing, but ABC made it clear rather quickly that it had no real interest in frightening anyone, and the series died quickly. Tales of the Unexpected , produced by Quinn Martin ( The FBI, The Fugitive, The Invaders, The New Breed , and God knows how many others), was more interesting, concentrating on psychological horrors (in one episode, reminiscent of Anne Rivers Siddons's The House Next Door , a murderer sees his victim rise from the dead on his television set), but low ratings killed the program after a short run . . . a fate that might have been The Twilight Zone's , had not the network stuck by it.
In fine, the history of horror and fantasy on television is a short and tacky one. Let's turn the magic eye off and turn to the bookshelf; I want us to talk about some stories where all the artificial boundaries are removed-both those of visual set and of network restriction-and the author is free to "get you" in any way he can. An uneasy concept, and some of these books scared the hell out of me even as they were delighting me. Maybe you've had the same experience . . . or maybe you will.
Just take my arm and step this way.
CHAPTER IX
Horror Fiction
IT MIGHT NOT BE IMPOSSIBLE to present an overview of American horror and fantasy fiction during the last thirty years, but it wouldn't be just a chapter in this book; it would be a book in itself, and probably a dull one (maybe even a text, that apotheosis of the Dull Book species).
For our purposes, I can't imagine why we would want to deal with all the books published in the genre anyway; most of them are just downright bad, and as with TV, I have no taste for the job of beating the field's most spectacular violators with their shortcomings. If you want to read John Saul and Frank de Felitta, go right ahead. It's your threefifty. But I'm not going to discuss them here.
Most television series have ranged from the ludicrous ( Land of the Giants ) to the utterly inane ( The Munsters, Struck by Lightning ). The anthology series of the last ten years have meant well, by and large, but have been emasculated by pressure groups both without and within; they have been sacrificed on the altar of television's apparent belief that both drama and melodrama are best appreciated while in a semidoze. There was Journey to the Unknown , a British import (from the Hammer studios). Some of the stories were engrossing, but ABC made it clear rather quickly that it had no real interest in frightening anyone, and the series died quickly. Tales of the Unexpected , produced by Quinn Martin ( The FBI, The Fugitive, The Invaders, The New Breed , and God knows how many others), was more interesting, concentrating on psychological horrors (in one episode, reminiscent of Anne Rivers Siddons's The House Next Door , a murderer sees his victim rise from the dead on his television set), but low ratings killed the program after a short run . . . a fate that might have been The Twilight Zone's , had not the network stuck by it.
In fine, the history of horror and fantasy on television is a short and tacky one. Let's turn the magic eye off and turn to the bookshelf; I want us to talk about some stories where all the artificial boundaries are removed-both those of visual set and of network restriction-and the author is free to "get you" in any way he can. An uneasy concept, and some of these books scared the hell out of me even as they were delighting me. Maybe you've had the same experience . . . or maybe you will.
Just take my arm and step this way.
CHAPTER IX
Horror Fiction
IT MIGHT NOT BE IMPOSSIBLE to present an overview of American horror and fantasy fiction during the last thirty years, but it wouldn't be just a chapter in this book; it would be a book in itself, and probably a dull one (maybe even a text, that apotheosis of the Dull Book species).
For our purposes, I can't imagine why we would want to deal with all the books published in the genre anyway; most of them are just downright bad, and as with TV, I have no taste for the job of beating the field's most spectacular violators with their shortcomings. If you want to read John Saul and Frank de Felitta, go right ahead. It's your threefifty. But I'm not going to discuss them here.