The problem, if there is one, with On the Edges of Vision is the one recommendation I had heard before reading it. That was that for all it’s wildness and wonderfulness, it’s ultimately indescribable. Now that I’ve finished, I’m finding it difficult to put it into words adequately, which is rather useless for a review, isn’t it?
But I’ll try…
The one thing I have always said about writing is that if it makes you feel something, good or bad, it’s doing something right. I’ve travelled about every stop on the spectrum of being creeped out, feeling uncertain and unsettled in this short story collection.
It’s the monsters we fear, the monsters that live in us, the devil, the phobias, the cutting a hand off and pretending it’s ham for a sandwich. It is weird, warped and utterly brilliant. Some stories pass you by in the blink of an eye, one or two pages that just leave this unsettling feeling tingling up your spine.
I mean, as a general scaredy cat, I prefer books to make me feel happy and excited so I don’t need to deal with the oddity of curling my toes at a turn of phrase that’s just really vivid and horrifying at all once. It’s like an adult Coraline in vibe.
For something indescribable I sure am rambling. Helen’s writing is so wonderful, I feel like she brings some odd life to the most mundane and normal things, so when it comes to something spectacular or otherworldly, her writing is off the charts. There’s no real limit to it. It’s a disservice to do it story-by-story, and while I do have some favourites, overall it’s a wild ride of 30+ stories that are probably unlike anything you’ve read before.
Queen’s Ferry Press