Synopsis:
In these eighteen stories, Emma E. Murray navigates uncharted waters of love, lust, and loss, descending into that most darkest of places: the human (and inhuman) heart.
Amidst the spiral and churn, you will hear frighteningly realistic tales of parental regret, the death of innocence, carnal yearning, and creeping evil, among other voices of the damned. Some are ferocious howls from out of the deep; others, tender lullabies or deranged arias of grief—and, beneath it all, the quiet, contented hum of something which has just fed… yet hungers for more.
With stories that have been previously published in such venues as Vastarien and Cosmic Horror Monthly, as well as critically acclaimed anthologies, Emma E. Murray’s virtuosic prose takes the reader to the very root of the vortex and will leave you gasping for breath.
Enter the maelstrom of THE DROWNING MACHINE and Other Obsessions, and let yourself sink—into a darkness that will devour you.
Review:
Emma E. Murray is a fiendishly talented author I discovered in January of 2024, and 10 months later I can confirm that she is a firm favourite. I adored her novelette “When The Devil,” and I adored (yes, even more) her novel “Crushing Snails,” which really goes places. Whilst she may be a new author to me, she’s been haunting the table of contents of anthologies for years. The gorgeous cover reveal, and the opportunity to read her short fiction, both new and old, was too great an opportunity to pass up! Thank you Emma for shooting me over an ARC, this one is out February 21st from Undertaker Books! A wickedly eclectic horror buffet, this collection has short stories that cover all bases, from apocalypses, to cannibals to creature features. It is not one that shies away from difficult themes, delving into the raw, painful, and sometimes gruesome facets of the human condition. “The Drowning Machine and Other Obsessions,” is a relentless tide of fucked-up, emotionally devastating and disturbing stories that deliver gut punch after gut punch; these stories drag you under and hold you there until you’re… well, drowning.
All of the stories are, at the very least, solid, but the first stand out for me was “Whole Again,” which was originally published in “Welcome to Your Body: Lessons in Evisceration,” earlier this year. We follow an unnamed protagonist, and her daughter Cora. Cora is nine, and endearing and exasperating in the way that nine year olds tend to be. When Cora blows a black hole in our narrator’s already tight budget, having grabbed snacks, sodas and trading cards from the gas station, her mum explodes, and chucks her shopping. Crestfallen, Cora stops to gather the abandoned collectables… the protagonist’s irritation quickly morphs into horror in an instant, when a car comes out of nowhere, and her daughter is hit. Amidst the aftermath, in a state of complete shock, our narrator picks up her child’s leg, and takes it home with her. She sleeps with it, cradles it and clings to it, it is afterall, all she has left. Miraculously however, that leg then grows into a thigh, and that thigh connects to a torso, and bizarrely, it seems that her daughter is coming back to her. Reminiscent of “Monstrolio,” by Gerado Sàmano Còrdova, this study on grief and guilt is heartbreaking.
This is then followed by yet another banger, “A Better Mother,” which was originally published in the CC&D magazine in 2020. We follow Ashley, 35 weeks, who strikes up a seemingly innocent conversation with Caitlin, 37 weeks, whilst she is shopping for car seats. Having already had a child, Ashley recommends that she splurge on a particularly high end one, that is way out of her budget. Under the guise that she plans to buy new gear for her new pregnancy anyway, Ashley tells Caitlin to follow her home, where she will hand over the seat, along with a few other baby bits and bobs. What is suspicious at all about that? I felt this to be the darkest one of the collection, and found it had the same unsavoury vibes as Elle Nash’s “Deliver Me.” It explores how society has failed parents in regard to just how expensive raising children can be, as well as themes of envy, morality, grief and misplaced trust. Rather chilling business.
So, “A Better Mother,” is perhaps the darkest, but “Mother of Machines,” is certainly the weirdest. We follow Alina, who witnesses a terrible accident in her father’s machine shop as a child, when Joe is pulled into the lathe, and crushed. For the next few years of her life, her nightmares are haunted by the machine, its cogs, its cold and indifferent capability to kill. As time goes on however, these dreams slowly become less scary… and eventually, of an entirely different nature altogether. Yes. it’s exactly what you think. Whilst bizarre, it may be, it’s also insightful in its exploration of trauma and its strange effects, going to show that scars from our childhood can often heal in unexpected, and perhaps disturbing ways, as well as fate, adolescence and lust (yes, lust). This one initially appeared in the Shortwave “Obsolescence,” anthology last year.
My very favorite of the bunch however is the deliciously unsettling “Exquisite Hunger,” which up until now has only been available in chapbook format. Our “protagonist,” has struggled with both romance and lust for a long while, and funnily enough, despite her prying family, is no closer to forming a connection… until Carly. Her infatuation begins innocently enough when she sees her new downstairs neighbor moving in- but rapidly and uncontrollably transcends lust, becoming something far darker, and far more intimate. All I will say, is that it reads like a bloody cross between Kenzie Jennings’ “Reception,” and Chelsea G Summers’ “A Certain Hunger.” It is raw, repulsive, riveting, and unapologetically gross- adjectives that pretty much encapsulate the collection.
It would be amiss of me not to do a few honorable mentions! “The Drowning Kind,” itself, is an exploration of the complex relationship between siblings, we love ‘em, we hate ‘em, and when they’re gone, we’ll miss them. This is of course executed (devastatingly) through the lens of grief, a recurring theme which runs like a dark river throughout the anthology. “The Night Visitor,” is a meta shock to the system that completely blindsided me, that serves as a chilling warning to the reader. I will be issuing my own warning, if you value your sleep, maybe don’t read this one just before bed. The first story, “An Angel of God,” is certainly a strong start, in which we follow a well-intentioned but very scary amalgamation of Annie Wilkes and Margaret White, responding to the loss of her child with a righteousness that goes far, far beyond the edge of reason.It’s an intense introduction that sets the tone for what’s to come.
Murray’s writing is sharp enough to draw blood, and clever enough to give you goosebumps on a semi-permanent basis. As unpredictable as it is unforgettable, and as beautiful as it is brutal, these collected works are something any horror author would be proud to have published over the years, and something any horror reader would absolutely devour.
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