Review: Acquired Taste by Clay McLeod Chapman

Rating: 10/10

They’re feeding on you too.

A father returns from serving in Vietnam with a strange and terrifying addiction; a man removes something horrifying from his fireplace, and becomes desperate to return it; and a right-wing news channel has its hooks in people in more ways than one.

From department store Santas to ghost boyfriends and salamander-worshipping nuns; from the claustrophobia of the Covid-19 pandemic to small-town Chesapeake USA, Clay McLeod Chapman takes universal fears of parenthood, addiction and political divisions and makes them uniquely his own.

Packed full of humanity, humour and above all, relentless creeping dread, Acquired Taste is a timely descent into the mind of one of modern horror’s finest authors.

You can only come out with so many amazing songs, or indeed write so many outstanding short stories, before it’s time for a “best of.” Clay McLeod Chapman’s “Acquired Taste,” which could alternatively have been called “CLAY GOLD,” or “NOW that’s what I call Clay McLeod Chapman,” is just that. A bloody, minor-key mixtape of the greatest hits, from one of the greatest voices in horror, this collection was absolutely “my jam.” It releases September 9th from Titan Books, and in the meanwhile dear reader my advice is to avoid weird-looking marshmallows, buy your breast pumps brand new, do not under any circumstances put your tongue anywhere near an axolotl, and put your pre-order for this one in now.

Eclectic does not quite encapsulate “Acquired Taste.” Absurd in some areas, with demon hammers and salamander worshipping nuns, whilst being truly vile in others, I’d be delighted to talk you through a few of my highlights.

I’d like to start with two that were already favourites if that’s quite alright with you. “Baby Carrots,” and “Knockoffs,” were both initially released as “Chapman Chapbooks,” with Shortwave in 2023. If you have a real hankering for them right this second, you can order them here and here respectively. “Baby Carrots,” follows a narrator who is not haunted only by his imminent separation from his wife Emma but also by a bag of baby carrots- his son’s favourite snack. Whilst I was once partial to the little guys, especially when dipped in hummus, Chapman’s descriptions of them writhing and slithering (yup, mhm) have truly put me off- I have been a baby carrot celibate for the past few months. 

“Knockoffs,” is arguably better yet. If you look deep and hard enough, beneath the tie-dye, it offers excellent commentary upon the internet and consumerism and the toxic symbiosis between the two. It follows an infestation of “Tubby Wubbys,” who wreak havoc upon our narrator, and his home- which becomes ground zero for a neighbourhood-wide plush and plastic pandemonium. I’m afraid if you’re a Labubu owner, you may be particularly eager to jettison it into the nearest incinerator. Both stories are silly and strange, but also, surprisingly insightful, and I’m hugely excited that they’re being republished here so that more hungry, terrified eyeballs can be roved over them. 

Whilst those two happen to be heavy on the charm in addition to the horror, let me assure you, many of these stories have a distinct nastiness to them. In his collection “The Poorly Made and Other Things,” Sam Rebelein has a story called “10PM on the Southbound 6,” which I believe, in a moment of polite understatement, I called “completely uncalled for,” and “undeniably foul.” These very same feelings resurfaced when I read “Pick of the litter,” in which our narrator describes the scene at a playground. All is well until the punchline (that can only be described as CRUEL Clay McLeod Chapman) is delivered. I still loved it. The same could be said about “Posterboard,” (a story that to my knowledge is brand spanking new) in which we read from the perspective of somebody attending a rally. Whilst commentary on obsessive ideological passion and hyper-partisanship were expected, its conclusion was certainly not. More devious work. 

Fans of “Wake Up and Open Your Eyes,” (which I’m assuming is everyone who has read it right?) will be delighted or disturbed to learn that the nightmare did not actually begin with a voice mail to Noah Fairchild. It started way earlier, with a short story called “The Spew of News,” published originally in Andrew Cull and Gabino Iglesias’ “FOUND,” in 2022. The beginnings of what turned out to be an excellent novel are hardly humble, but fascinating to read in retrospect. The themes of political division, media rot, and ideological cannibalism remain, (as well as the excellently named “Fax News,”) but this time the horrors that unfurl are shorter and distinctly more Cronenbergian- as well as inflicted upon an unnamed narrator.

As much as I’d love to gush more and spoil each story one by one, nobody wants that, so some quick fire favourites it is then… Emily C. Hughes described “Debridement,” as one of the most upsetting short stories she has ever encountered in her life, in an episode of Robb Olson’s “The ARC Party,” and I’m inclined to agree. “Hermit,” is like a sinister crustacean-centred “Ratatouille,” that made my skin crawl. “Nathan Ballingrud’s Haunted Horror Recs,” is the best written inside joke I’ve ever read, I’m now quite scared of Nathan Ballingrud. “Our Summer in the Pit,” is a kids on bikes “Stig of the dump,” meets “The Troop,” gnarly body horror that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. 

Ranging from ear-collecting serial killers to comic book demons, each of these 25 stories, like the rest of his body of work, was unmistakably written by Clay McLeod Chapman. Twisted, tender, deranged, Chapman has a singular voice that is strange and weird and beautiful, and does not falter throughout. What I suppose I’m trying to say, dear reader, is that, truly, earnestly, it is a privilege to be a horror reader who exists at the same time Chapman is writing. Go forth and acquire taste.