How about this for an anthology, thirty one stories by the French writer Guy De Mauppassant, all rich in the dark hues that Gallic writers bring to the table. Period and historical stories lean into each other in the way an author confident with the sound of their own voices is capable of rendering for the reader. Despite the age between then and now a thick vein of modernity runs through them, a grounding in a harsh reality,even where the tale teller sways into regions of the macabre, venuring into morbid dark territories. We read about the most immoral and cruel of drabs who commit acts of brutality and sadism in order to achieve the outcomes they desire and mostly escape the consequences of those actions. One story in particular; Coco, almost made me push the book away as it detailed the slow cruel demise of an elderly horse, a story that felt nothing less than wicked. its attention to detail a mirror to the poor animals suffering. It was so painful to read I found myself questioning the sanity, and the morality, of the writer. And then I told myself that this was perhaps the point. That Guy De Maupassant was not letting the reader, as coconspirator, get off the hook so lightly. I am sure in his time he actually met some sadistic rural brutes who treated animals and people badly.
Mind you, I know little to nothing about the life of the writer in order to make such an observation with any authority. But I did sense a troubled spirit, steering the pen, writing these stories while cloaked in a knowing melancholy.I could not help but suspect that he must have had some very dark moments in his life but then again, who has not. That said, the pain and suffering and the anguish squeezed between the lines felt authentic and lived. At times, almost like an actual record of lived unpleasant experiences. Once I read the introduction by Ramsey Cambell I discovered the was likely the case. Indeed, at some low point Guy De Maupassant had tried to end his suffering by cutting his own throat. Almost two years following that action, he met his true end, in much the same personal extremis that the American writer Edgar Allen Poe ended his days. Actually, the ghost of Poe's influence permeated this collection. Not every story is supernatural yet they nearly all open a window to the outre, the unlovely macabre of our days. I did enjoy his brevity, his ability to conjure much in a few paragraphs. From the aristocracy to peasant, poor Guy De Maupassant strove in print to prove his worst suspicions regarding human nature to be true.
In the end we are all become Horla.
