An important, though neglected, figure in twentieth-century British horror fiction, Sir Charles Birkin (1907-1985) began his literary career as editor of the popular – and now highly collectible – Creeps series of horror anthologies in the 1930s, which featured tales by well-known writers such as H.R. Wakefield, Lord Dunsany and Russell Thorndike, as well as contributions by Birkin himself.
A master of the conte cruel, often with a Grand Guignol finish, Birkin found true horror not in ghosts or the supernatural but in the hearts of men and women. Never before reprinted and extremely scarce, Devils’ Spawn (1936) collects sixteen of Birkin’s stories, many of them first published in the Creeps volumes, including the horror gems “The Terror on Tobit” and “The Harlem Horror”. Birkin’s collection The Smell of Evil (1965) is also available from Valancourt Books.
CONTEMPORARY REVIEWS
“Not for the squeamish. Be warned, if you are at all sensitive, leave him well alone.” - Hugh Lamb
“More than a definite touch of the great master, Edgar Allan Poe.” - Dennis Wheatley
“Few writers of horror today approach the standards of Birkin.” - Ulster Star
Sir Charles Lloyd Birkin, 5th Baronet of Ruddington Grange (24 September 1907 – 1985) was an English author of horror short stories and the editor of the Creeps Library of anthologies. Mostly working under the pseudonym Charles Lloyd, Birkin's tales tended towards the contes cruels rather than supernatural fiction.
I really wanted to like this book more than I did....I've come across several of Birkin's short stories in anthologies over the years, but this marks the first time I've seen an entire anthology of his short stories....
Birkin was an admitted master of what is known as the conte cruel (cruel stories)..no supernatural monsters within...just the evil that Men..and Women..do to one another. I don't want any future readers to believe the stories within aren't unsettling..and certainly cruel..in some ways they remind me of the future work of Robert Bloch. My favorite story in "Spawn" was "The Cockroach"....where a man meets his doom - only to be discovered later in the kitchen of a bistro he's visited....
Valancourt Books re-published this anthology...originally published in 1936. I prefer Brkin's later works.
[Philip Allan] (1934). HB. 1/1. 251 Pages. Camilla Sykes’ copy (signed) - wife of Christopher Sykes, friend and biographer of Evelyn Waugh. Purchased from Lloyd Currey.
16 stories. Many entries were reprinted from “Creeps” anthologies edited by the author (1932-1936). They selectively reappeared - sometimes revised - within cheap 60s/70s paperback collections from the likes of Tandem.
Barely supernatural (one hint of it); the focus is upon extreme human misconduct. Abduction, betrayal, cannibalism, crucifixion, cruelty, disease, jealousy, lust, murder, mutilation, rape, revenge, sadism, torture, vivisection…
Only a handful of duffers, “The Terror on Tobit”, for instance, echoes the ridiculous end of H. P. Lovecraft’s “Weird Tales” spectrum.
“Shelter”, from “Panics” (1934), which long preceded Roald Dahl’s much vaunted “The Visit”, is identical in core plot (but better executed).
These are stories Alfred Hitchcock would have loved to film. Although, he'd never get a happy ending for one of them at the beginning. The characters in these tales made yours truly sorry for them when they come to a dire end. However, two stories, Obsession, and Premiere, were written with irony and sly humor. Yet, most of them were rife with macabre ironies scribed in subtleties. Yet the reader might be a little outraged at the injustice. But such is life, not always fair.
A collection of nasty horror tales and contes cruels from Charles Birkin. Although just as macabre, the stories here are not as powerful and well-written as those in So Pale, So Cold, So Fair. 3.5 stars for this one. I'm certainly going to read more of Birkin's work.
Felt it was cool for what it is - an antique, after all - but I was really expecting more in terms of horror. Basically this is a collection of very short stories, where people are mean. That's about it.
A fairly decent example of "weird" short fiction from the 1930s, caught between Poe and noir. I had hoped for more traditional horror, though this plays out like morality tales without any trace of supernatural elements...just the depravity wrought by human hands.