Because Christabel is unfinished, and especially because there were supposed to be at least three more parts, reading it feels like getting sucked into a story only to find out that all the pages after the prologue and the first chapter are missing. We never know what happens to Christabel and who or what Geraldine really is, but leaving the poem unrated just because the story ends abruptly would be a bit unfair. I mean, something can still be said about the language, the atmosphere etc.

I absolutely adore The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (1798), but although Christabel is a more conventional horror/gothic poem with a linear narrative, it doesn't mean it's bad. Just that it's entertaining but not particularly remarkable. The second part is much less interesting as it's a sort of an interlude that leads to the following events (whatever they may be), whereas the strongly gothic first part is remarkably similar to Carmilla (1872) with its heaving bosoms, supernatural elements, and two ladies having a very close encounter.

Although I picked Christabel up because I've heard about Geraldine in the context of vampires, I hesitate to call it a full-blown vampire story. That's just because the poem is unfinished, so we can't really be 100 percent sure about what's going on despite the relatively strong hints. Who knows what surprises Coleridge had in store (and I hear he had too much of them, because he couldn't decide how to end the story).

Meh. Very little sense of terror and a frustratingly bland ending, where the villain suddenly

Spoiler

changes her mind about the effectiveness of her treatments

, because a bland Victorian guy who feels sorry for

Spoiler

and wants to marry

the lady's bland 18-year-old companion says so. You'd think a story that strives to be gothic would be at least a tad more exciting, but I guess not. Maybe if it was a little shorter with a more effective atmosphere or a full-length novel where Lady Ducayne was explored more (I actually kind of liked her character), but as it is Good Lady Ducayne isn't all that. Is it a vampire story? I realize that the treatment of vampires can vary a great deal, but is

Spoiler

blood transfusion

enough to categorize something as a vampire story? I'm not convinced (sounds more like a sensation novel), but I'm willing to reconsider.

Not as good as Les Mis but great nevertheless. Though the passages about medieval Paris architecture may only interest those who adore the city or architecture in general. I personally loved the whole package. The characters are legendary and one of the best ever invented.

At night, the sounds from the canyon shifted and changed. The bungalow seemed to lift itself with every echo and the walls were breathing. Panting.

After finishing a 1300-page behemoth, I haven't been too keen starting anything new that is past 200 pages, so it was a nice coincidence to stumble upon Abbott's short story. She's someone who's been in my mind for quite a while now, and dipping my toes into her writing through a mystery story set in 1950s L.A. felt appropriate.

Now, let me tell you: the setting and premise alone would have been enough to draw me in, Abbott or no Abbott, but she really is a good writer, isn't she? There's everything I love and could possibly love about noir, but somehow The Little Men feels fresh. It occasionally veers into a creepy territory, moving away from a conventional mystery story and becoming more like a suspense story about a woman's obsession. There's this foreboding atmosphere seeping through everything, whether it's the imperfect actresses that Penny tries to transform into perfect ethereal beings with makeup or the eerie rustling of palm trees and the scent of apricot in the bungalows.

I want more. Next year will be the year when I will finally read Megan Abbott novels.

Another one of those situations where I noticed an interesting movie and decided to read the book first, because it looked good. What a pleasant surprise this was! In these stories that smell like a wet grave (also literally, because I got this from the darkest recesses of the library's storage room), monsters are monsters and the macabre shenanigans are often creepy and bloody. There's also some dry British humor, which honestly doesn't appeal to me very much, but sometimes (such as now) it works. The Humgoo is definitely the highlight of the collection. Simply because it's eerie, suspenseful, and has an amazing ending.

And what about the movie then? Anthologies are one of my favorite things and I tend to be less critical about them than regular movies (probably because there's always the one story that is decent). The Monster Club (1981) was produced by Milton Subotsky who was involved with Amicus Productions, so I wasn't too worried.

Well... The eponymous club of the frame story had been changed into a cringy nightclub filled with creatures that looked like they had been burdened with Party City costumes. At that point I wanted the earth to swallow me. The stories themselves were okay, but so different than what they are in the book. A classic case of why fix something that isn't broken. An okay movie to pass the time on a lazy Saturday evening, but it's way down in my ranking of anthology and Vincent Price movies.

While the stories have remained the same, the illustrator has changed. Unfortunately, the illustrations look pretty amateurish and don't in any way suit the nature of the stories. I'm still going to finish the series as my end-of-year project, but it won't be the same.