Song of Kali by Dan Simmons

Hello, Stranger.

Let's talk about Dan Simmons's Song of Kali.

The Short of It

Plot: It's a once in a lifetime opportunity to speak with an elusive author. But darkness and danger are everywhere...

Page Count: 311

Award: 1986 World Fantasy Award

Worth a read: Maybe? But probably not. 
Primary Driver: Rare bonus: Atmosphere.
Bechdel Test: Fail
Technobabble: Minimal.
Review: Excellent use of atmosphere, legitimately gripping as horror. Masterful interplay of understated yet unsettling and acutely horrifying. Pacing is slow but usually well executed to ratchet up tension. Like much horror, often hard to get behind the protagonist - he continues to do unreasonable things, and push himself needlessly further into these situations. Also, feels kinda racist. No one is slinging slurs around, but there's definitely some problematic fetishizing goin' down. 

The Medium of It

Spoiler Free!

I am not a voracious consumer of horror; I believe that the technical term for my stance on such things is cowardice. All the same, horror as such - not horror thriller, horror comedy, horror action - feels successful if it is actually scary. As such, this one succeeds. I was unsettled, I felt that there was real threat to the characters, and I was at points disturbed. Hell yeah! Horror victory!

On the other hand... Horror is frequently propelled by characters who are dumb as hell. "There's something in the house!" Cool, I think I'll leave. "There's a killer out there, I'm going to go look for him!" What if you stayed home instead? Our protagonist is just such a dingus. You can't tell me that curiosity is sufficient for the things he goes through. Get outta here! There are a few points where this unbelievable character work is enough to break immersion completely - which is incredible harmful for maintaining atmosphere, especially in horror. On the other, other hand (Kali has a couple extras) it is a testament to Simmons's writing skills that he is able to re-establish this horror atmosphere both quickly and effectively.

Except when it's totally broken, immersion and tension are both high. This means, however, that pacing is slow. A creeping horror doth not run...

Contemplate this, from the review on the cover above: "I actually felt as if I were in Calcutta - the sounds, the reek..." This is when things get pretty dicey on the racism/exoticism front. Calcutta is depicted as the worst place there is, and Indians broadly as pretty awful. This does not feel like a necessary choice: the filth and grime of a city could be evoked without the feeling of damning the people as well. Admittedly a delicate balance - and I don't know that I can pinpoint what feels so problematic. Know, then, that it do.

I don't know whether or not to recommend this - and I err on the side of probably not. There are certainly other horror stories that lack the problematic aspects that this one brings to the fore. 

If this is a song you'd like to sing, continue using the link below! I'll get a few cents at no extra cost to you.

Link of Kali.

The Long of It

Spoilers Ahead!

Tension good racism bad.

Alright?

There's not even that much to say with spoilers - horror is often a predictable genre in its broadest strokes. Oh, there's a death cult that someone mentioned? Well, that seems like it will be important. Obstacles keep getting in the way of departure? Well, those definitely aren't contrived. 

Much of this feels contrived. Effectively all of the plot points. There are nested narratives - sometimes they work, sometimes they don't, and the nesting makes it take even longer. And the book continues far past its welcome. The climax is at the end of chapter 14, and there are four more chapters that follow.

And yet it kept me tense. There are a handful of particularly striking scenes - one involves two characters finding corpses and transporting them across town, one of them bloated and leaking sea water. It's horrifyingly visceral. The desperate hunt for his daughter, just a baby - and ultimately finding her dead. It's a devastating moment.

Everyone was shouting. For some reason I took several steps back as Amrita lifted our daughter high and began unwrapping her from the filthy purple shawl.

 Amrita's first cry cut through the rest of the noise and reduced the room to silence. I continued backing up until I struck a counter. As Amrita's screams started, I turned away in slow motion and lowered my face and clenched fists to the cool countertop.

"Awww," I said. It was a soft noise and it came up out of my earliest childhood. "Awww," I said. "Aww, no, please." I pressed my cheek tight against the countertop and struck my fists against my ears, but I could plainly hear when Amrita's cries turned to sobs.

Eep.

Don't join a death cult, Stranger.

And don't forget to read a book!