By John Collier
John Collier's edgy, sardonic stories are works of infrequent wit, curious perception, and frightening implication. They stand out as one of many pinnacles within the seriously ignored yet perennially renowned culture of strange writing that incorporates E.T.A. Hoffmann and Charles Dickens in addition to newer masters like Jorge Luis Borges and Roald Dahl. With a forged of characters that levels from man-eating plants to disgruntled devils and suburban salarymen (not that it's continually effortless to inform one from another), Collier's staggering tales discover the implacable common sense of lunacy, revealing a surreal panorama whose volatile floor is depth-charged with shock.
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Extra info for Fancies and Goodnights (New York Review Books)
Sample text
She asked. "Okay," he said. " "I have the sweetest little old dentist I go to," Liz chirruped. "Must be nearly a hundred years old. " Holding aside her lip with her red-enameled thumbnail, she showed him a gold inlay in one of her upper molars. A breath of cigarette smoke and cinnamon whisked around him as he leaned to see. " she said. "Big as all get out, and it didn’t hurt! " I wonder what Margo would say, he wondered. If she walked in here through the magic-eye glass door that swings open when you approach it and saw me gazing into Liz’s mouth.
Margo asked the three of them. "No thanks," Ragle said. "I’ll try some," Vic said, and Bill Black wagged his head along with him. " "No," Margo said, and departed. "Don’t tank up too heavily on that Italian stuff," Ragle said to Vic. "It’s rich. A lot of dough and spices. " That seemed to nettle Vic. " Ragle said. But he knew what Vic meant. At least it was a salaried job, to which he set out every morning and returned home from every night. Not something he did in the living room. Not a puttering about with something in the daily newspaper...
Junie Black raked in the winnings, smiling in her inane fashion. " Bill Black said. " Margo said, irked at having lost the hand. " he said to her. "I don’t know," she said. In his mind he chronicled all the lights he could think of. In his house, at the store, at friends’ houses. All were wall switches. "You hardly ever run into a cord hanging down any more," he said aloud. " "Easy enough," Junie said. "When you were a child. Many, many years ago. " he said. " "Yes," he agreed. They all seemed interested.
