Chills That Span Generations
The book opens with “Vice,” a story in which death comes for its victims based on their personal vices — in this case, smoking. As with most of these tales, its ending is essentially inevitable, yet the narrator’s engaging style and vivid imagery overcome its predictability. Thus, the book takes off on a high note. Several more stories follow a similar path. Although it’s certainly unintentional, “Burglar Man” takes a cue from Manly Wade Wellman’s “The Desrick on Yandro,” in that greed motivates the antagonist, and, in the end, his reward could hardly be more fitting. “Cries from the Attic” is a genuine ghost story, compelling due to its creepy atmosphere. Conversely, “Up All Night” may be the tale most deeply rooted in “real-life” terror. Again, no great surprises here, but plenty of tension due to the emotional urgency Miller evokes.
I would have to call “Fiery Eyes and Bloody Bones” my favorite piece in the book. Although tales of vile cretins receiving their just deserts tend to become tiresome, once in a while, they turn out to be just the ticket. Such is the case here. It’s lengthier than most in the collection, and the characters — even young Zeke, the troublemaker in the cast — are perhaps the best drawn. “Fiery Eyes” makes for a perfect Halloween yarn, with vivid seasonal atmosphere and that gripping sense of impending doom (a dramatic aspect at which Miller again proves herself adept). As the unlikeable Zeke continually misbehaves, lies, and sets himself up for his inevitable fall, a terrifying something takes notice of him. This is just the kind of tale that scared the crap out of me at summer camp when I was a kid, when our counselors told us scary tales around the campfire at night. As the story creeps toward its conclusion — a literal countdown to doom — it’s hard not to feel sorry even for Zeke the reprobate.
Yes indeed, the best tale in the book.
“The Cold Man” also offers rich Halloween atmosphere, with a menace not too far removed from Freddy Krueger. “Beneath the Bed” shares a few “real-life” elements with “Burglar Man,” but with a bit more creepy color. And in “The Creature That Drains the Blood From the Sheep,” Miller explores the effects of fear — on individuals as well as a community — by way of a hideous critter. It’s another fairly lengthy tale, set in New Mexico. It takes its time getting to its fearsome crux; maybe a little too much time. Still, as the climax draws near, it manages to pack a fair wallop.
In “Two Heads Are Better Than One,” we have what might — or might not — be a bloody chronicle of a psychotic break. The story’s apt, nightmarish coda elevates this one beyond the inevitability of its climax.
Another favorite in the book, “Safe House” tells the story of the main character inheriting her grandparents’ house — as well as a frightening entity within. Miller gives her protagonist a strong emotional tie to the place (an aspect with which I readily identify) as well as a vague fear of it. Dread of darkness and that which lurks within plays a large part in the tale’s unfolding.
The last story in the volume, “Crybaby Bridge,” engagingly told in the first person, might be considered autobiographical, as Miller bases it on her personal history. At the story’s heart, we find a common trope, but the author’s compelling voice provides a sense of immediacy and authenticity. Again, the Halloween atmosphere permeates the tale — and rightly, as Halloween plays a crucial narrative role. At the end of the story, after a fashion, Miller reveals the origin of her proclivity for writing.
With Tales My Grandmother Told Me, author Miller bundles numerous previously told tales and makes them her own. While not all of them work on every level, certain stories hit on all cylinders — sometimes hard enough to blow the engine. With her appealing authorial voice, Ms. Miller, like the raconteur at a campfire gathering, offers the reader a passel of fearsome fun.
