The Ultimate Complex - Reviewing "The Black Maybe: Liminal Stories" by Attila Veres

Death can't be like life. Then it wouldn't be death, would it?

As one of the few horror publishing houses that can look beyond their own local backyards, Valancourt did the worldwide horror community a great service by issuing Hungarian author and screenwriter Attila Veres' English debut short story collection, The Black Maybe: Liminal Stories. So, I want to give them a huge thank you to begin with.

Where to start with this one? Maybe at the end, the very end. The moment I read the last page and closed the book. I was overwhelmed, appalled, fascinated and stirred inside, all in a good way, by the ten stories I had just read from an author who has the powerful talent to suck and tie in his readers immediately, no time lost. I'm saying this as a person who usually needs some time to warm up to new stories. I get attached to characters and when I go through an intense experience with them, as it is the case in a short story, I feel like it is hard to just quickly set that aside and jump off to a new adventure. Reading these tales you could easily get carried away, get lost in them and you may want to devour them all at once. But knowing the way I am, I tried another technique for Veres' liminal stories and read a story a day in order to savor them, to have time to digest what just happened, as all of the stories were, in various degrees, harrowing and soul shaking and you really need time for that unrest to settle down. And it definitely paid off.

That unrest... A more or less traumatic moment lies at the heart of each one of these tales. It's that uncanny moment, whether it is the emergence of an unhealthy or absurd obsession, a cruel power-play and sadistic breach of trust by a person you should be able to trust most or the witnessing of disturbing, unreal rituals in an otherwise real and normal world, that reaches out to and unsettles something very deep inside your gut.

While creating this crucial moment Veres often borrows from Lovecraft, the Mythos and other cosmic horror elements - sometimes subtly, sometimes openly, but always in an original, in a warped fashion. Take, for instance, the Askathoth Travel Package that takes the unassuming tourist to the depths of cruel and harrowing places. Or the faceless monks whose faces have been very literally shaved off as a sacrifice to their malign deity. Or the children of a death cult encouraged to be bullied, battered and beaten in Christian schools because the resulting pain will only strengthen their faith. Or the artists creating inexplainable and destructive works of art. The countryside rituals, "ceremonies" as we know them from weird authors, so unnatural, so traumatizing, so revolting that David Cronenberg would be jealous of the body horror depicted.

There's no need to worry for the reader not familiar with the Mythos, though, except for maybe one story "Multiplied by Zero", a lovecraftian tale with a feminist point. Generally no prior knowledge is required and even here the story on its own is enjoyable for every reader.

To come this far and not mention the underlying humor among so much depravity in Veres' writing would be a true shame. As you probably already guessed by the nature of said travel package, there is plenty of black humor to be found in The Black Maybe. The comedy finds its peak particularly in the second to last story "Sky Filled With Crows, Then Nothing At All", in which we focus on the Antichrist from the point of view of the demon assigned to convince him to take his rightful place on the Midnight Throne and lead the army of death to destroy the world. Alas, the demon bitterly fails in his efforts to tempt him, which include planting in him a passion for Heavy Metal music and ruining his life to strengthen rage and anger. Even though he fails in his efforts, he develops something like an affection for the headstrong chosen one. If there is one story among these ten that could provide a little warmth, sooth a little the dread and heartbreak the other stories have caused, it's this one.

I was so proud of him, even though they mostly played covers.

Another device Veres frequently uses are very little easter eggs, very small details and recurring elements that nevertheless establish a sort of connectiveness between the stories and help to create a sort of horror universe - things such as a recurring character here and there, like Eszter, the singing prostitute, the faceless monk cameo appearances, the drinking of chamomile tea in a couple of stories... It's nothing groundbreaking but something that's rewarding for a reader to notice.

Finally, I think it is suitable to mention one of Veres' strongest stories to set an analogy here, namely "The Amber Complex".

 

That town. That neigborhood. That pub. Even as a child he knew there was no escape. If you were born there you would have to die there too because it's a trap.

 

In this arguably visually most appealing and cinematic of all stories, main character Gábor goes, after years of suffering post-Soviet poverty, through a series of unlikely coincidences and ends up in a wine cellar where he and a group of random strangers are invited to join a tasting of a drink the host calls "a complex". There will be seven successive tastings of complexes of different taste and color which need to be drunk in a particular order in order to establish the full flavor and impact.

Each complex causes an oddly specific vision, a story or an impression, it simulates a pleasant or a terrifying real-life experience and the experience is often hypnotic, psychedelic. As the guests go through the different complexes which also increase in intensity, they need to rest between the different stages and sometimes quit. It is the yet unattained goal to accomplish all stages, to go until the very end and maybe Gábor has a real chance to make it.

It doesn't matter whether you perceive your life as a failure or success. It is all just an aroma, no better or worse than any other.

Just like Gábor, so do we readers fight our way through these carefully arranged stories, or complexes, which affect us, impress us, give us visions that touch us the further we read in this book, leaving us burned out but with a cathartic, intense satisfaction after finishing. Veres is an author to be watched.