He Is
What He Writes: The Weird Tales of Dennis L. Siluk
by Benjamin Szumskyj (2008)
Embarking on the critical study of author Dennis L. Siluk might be an endeavor
that would fall on deaf ears, rather than the applause of a receptive audience.
I mean no disrespect by this comment. This is because, despite dozens of
published books and thousands of copies sold, Dennis L. Siluk’s literary career
has been virtually undetected by the community of the weird tale. However,
being unknown is potentially more rewarding than being found and
forgotten, or worse still, ignored altogether. And being that none of Siluk’s
many readers have chosen to study his works of fiction, bar the flurry of
positive reviews, any study of his work will be both deserved and enlightening.
Siluk has written several books outside the weird tale canon, such as of
poetry (Sirens, The Macabre Poems: and other selected poems), children’s
stories (The Tale of Willie the Humpback Whale, Two Modern Short Stories of
Immigrant Life: The Little Russian Twins & Uni’s Street Car), travel (Chasing
the Sun, Romancing San Francisco: Sketches of Life in the Late '60's),
mainstream (Perhaps It’s Love, Cold Kindness), non-fiction (A Path to
Sobriety, the Inside Passage: A Common Sense Book on Understanding Alcoholism
and Addiction, A Path to Relapse Prevention), thriller (The Mumbler),
and pseudotheological (The Last Trumpet and the Woodbridge Demon).
The fiction collection that best encapsulates the style, imagination and
originality of Siluk is Death on Demand: Seven Stories of Suspense
(2003, iUniverse Inc). Though a relatively recent publication, it collects
several stories written over a period of years. In discussing the following
stories, I may reveal the endings in order to illustrate a point.
Death on Demand opens with, what I believe
not only to be one of Siluk’s best stories, but perhaps one of the most
powerfully written stories of the last decade ‘The Rape of Angelina’, a story
which showcases the author’s background in psychology and sociology within a
historical context. The story begins with a well-read individual who has
acquired a forgotten poem written in 1278 AD entitled ‘The Lioness of
Glastonbury’, whilst conducting research at an undisclosed university in
England. Upon arriving in Glastonbury, he meets a man named Arthur who is
distantly related to Angelina and happens to possess a copy of her diary,
written in 1199 AD at the end of the Crusades. As he states:
“At Chalice Well, you will see a Lion’s Head. Angelina was a lioness.
Although people thought she was timid, and coy, she was far from it. When she
died, in 1221 AD, she left her diary, and the story of the three soldiers who
wanted to rape her; one did the other two… Well, that’s part of the story; no
one ever found out what happened to them or for that matter, how they died. But
I know I got the diary. I found it in 1984, hidden in the old Abbey Barn, that
place has a magnificent roof, doesn’t it?” [DOD, p. 18]
The story then changes to Angelina’s point of view, directly from her
diary, as she recounts the events of that fateful year. The third chapter is
crisply written, particularly the first section, in which the 13-year-old
details her dream of finding a beloved knight and being married, her developing
body, and the attention young boys give her. It’s an authentic narrative, for
Angelina comes across as a sensible, mature and honourable girl who idolizes
the life of King Arthur, as well as looking up to her grandfather. Soon enough,
she is confronted by three wandering knights, who she believes to be visiting
King Arthur’s grave site. However, they advance on her and each of the men rape
Angelina. After being raped by the third attacker, who falls asleep (whom
Angelina thinks is either English or Islamic-Arab), she picks up his sword and
decapitates him.
Taking his bag of coins (‘I took them for my torn dress’ [DOD, p.
41]), she buries him (‘about three feet deep, and I rolled him into it just
like mom puts in the ham during winter’ [DOD, p. 41]) and returns home,
telling no one what had happened. That night, she asks her grandfather about
the Holy Wars and Islamic culture, particularly, towards women. The next day,
Angelina uses the remainder of the deceased rapist’s silver to buy a wolf, which
she locks in a cage and is determined to domesticate.
Angelina continues her plan of revenge when, upon seeing the other two
in a tavern, she tells the soberer of the pair to meet her at a disclosed
location soon after. He agrees and upon leaving, Angelina buys some wine and
quickly makes a visit to the local herb dealer, buying strong sleeping
narcotics. Later on, she meets up with the man, tricks him into drinking the
drugged wine, then releases the hungry wolf and he is mauled to death. Consider
the macabre nature of the following scene, through the innocence of Angelina:
‘He couldn’t talk or make any more sounds the wolf had chewed his nose
and throat off, and open. I thought people died easy, but it’s not true.
Sometimes they die slow. The wolf looked at me then went and started eating
again, paying me little attention; I think he was making sure his meal was
secure.’ [DOD, p. 65]
The third and final rapist is led to Chalice Well, where after passing
out from drinking the same drugged wine, Angelina ‘tied his hands over his
head; then tied his two legs together’, then proceeded to chop off his hands
with his own sword and cast him down the well. The final scene is worth quoting
at length,
‘As I look down the well, the rope followed him like a snake. He has no
hands to untie his feet, and he cannot climb the 30-feet to the top. And I know
the well is pretty deep. I cannot see him, only hear his cries.
‘Now I put the top of the well cover back on; I will lock it now, so the
children will not fall into it. I can still hear his screams, barely, but I do
hear them, he is begging me to open the well door, and at the same time cursing
me. He is not sorry for what he did to me, only sorry I could get revenge on
him; now his body will sink soon, and he will sober up, or wake up drunk in
hell.
‘I hear water splashing, he is lucky he is thin, not like the huge one,
for he would sink if he was that big. He will get exhausted soon. I must bury
the rest of his things.
‘”See Mr. Knight, you are paying for your sins. But I will tell the
world you were a great knight, for that is what knights are created for; they
are special. Thus, I will save you from disgrace. What would you do if you
lived, just get drunk and rape more girls like me. Now, that is not what a good
knight should have to look forward to. GOOD NIGHT!!” I think he heard me, I
tried to say it loud enough through the locked well cover. Matter of fact he
did hear me, he is saying “Come back…come backkkkkk, ppppleaseeeeezzzzzzz.” [DOD,
p. 73]
Thus finish Angelina’s diary entries. Angelina tried to subconsciously
forget her rape and murderous revenge, distancing herself from the whole
experience and erasing the whole series of events from her mind. The townsfolk
don’t believe she did it, nor would they desire to trial her for such atrocious
crimes despite the evidence. Soon after, the Arthurian Green Knight enters the
town and when the two meet one another, they instantly fall in love. After
marrying one another, Angelina sadly dies in childbirth.
The final chapter returns to the present, with a psychological
explanation of how Angelina erased the rape and killings from her memory. In
reading this passage, one can begin to see Siluk’s knowledge in this area of
psychology (in addition to the ‘Other’ voice heard by Angelina, throughout the
story). The narrator ends up leaving Glastonbury, but the story remains there,
for in leaving, he is unable to take away the story and he begins to
disremember Angelina’s tragic life.
What makes this story work is that unlike many female characters that
are raped in literature and extract vengeance, Angelina does not become a
masculine force. Rather, she remains feminine and does not adopt the traits or
personality of a male. Like Michael Moorcock in Gloriana, or the Unfulfill'd
Queen (1978), Siluk is careful in his writing of one of humanity’s worst
forms of violence. Angelina is such a likeable character who is able to remain
stable of mind through her horrible ordeal that her reaction of vengeance
becomes more realistic.
‘Seventh Born Son’ is an intriguing story, surrounding the life of ‘Vlad
Bran, otherwise known as Vlad Hoof’ [DOD, p. 92], for he was born with a
tail and hooves. Narrated by a ‘friend’ of Vlad’s, the story begins in
Transylvania. What starts as a potentially clichéd story evolves into a
cleverly crafted life story of a figure cursed by his environment. The stigma
of literature, in this case Bram Stoker’s Dracula, has constructed a
world to believe that Vlad’s hometown is a place of evil and vampirism. In
deciding to leave the place he once called home and travel to Wales, he soon
begins to think evil thoughts on killing other people. As a result, Vlad’s true
nature begins to emerge as detailed in the following passage,
‘As several months passed, he established himself as a serious manager
in the food department, the headwaiter, with several under him. And would
attend weekly meetings concerning improvements, in which he gave good advice;
never showing his discontent for the world outside his mind, his damaged soul.
It was justice he yearned for. When he walked by city hall, he spit at it. When
he walked by the National Museum he stopped and would always wonder if there
were any misunderstood freaks of nature like him in there. He liked walking the
riverfront and watching the alcoholics get drunk sitting by the benches,
overlooking the Millennium Stadium. He felt if anyone knew what he was thinking
– which was killing – and if they were half sober, they would realize he could
and would carry it out. And just what he was thinking was revenge. Yes, revenge
on the world. Anyone would do. But he was not a vampire like people thought him
as. He was just misunderstood. He didn’t need blood to cure him, only blood to
wipe the dirt they threw on him away. And so, as spring came, he drew up his
plan.’ [DOD, p. 94]
So begins Vlad’s vengeful campaign. His first victim is a female whom he
decapitates, the second victim is a priest lured away from the police and
stabbed in the back, the third victim is raped and then mauled by wild dogs,
the fourth victim is an old man pushed down a well, the fifth victim is a
homeless man that is buried alive, while the sixth and seventh victims…are Vlad
himself. He commits suicide (the flesh), then rigs a trap that when the police
break down his door (after being tipped off by his ‘friend’), drives a stake
into his chest, thus destroying Vlad’s spirit. All up, seven victims are slain,
just as Vlad had wanted it. It is a satisfactory ending to a story fuelled by
bloody passion and the relentless hatred of being a social outcast.
Even at the end of the story, we are never told in words as to whether
there is any real supernaturalism in the story. We are made to believe that
this all happened, regardless of the preconceived belief that Vlad was a vampire.
If we are to toy with the belief that Vlad is capable of supernatural feats,
say hypnotism (after his third victim is raped and simultaneously attacked by
dogs), then it the reader’s choice to do so, for the author has not indicated
as such. ‘Seventh Born Son’ succeeds in being a suspenseful story in that it
relies heavily on pseudo-supernaturalism, that being, the allusion of the
supernatural to mask realism. It is easily one of Siluk’s best short stories (1).
‘The Dead Vault’ begins as a touching account of love and murder, set
during the eighteenth dynasty of Egypt, 1570-1293 BCE (New Kingdom period). It
surrounds two lovers who partake in the murder of Tutankhamen,(2) but soon find themselves fleeing for their very lives, as ‘those who
hired us, betrayed us, used us as an escape-goat, they are the ones who have
sent the bone collectors to find us, and bring our bones back to them.’ [DOD,
pp. 108-09] The lovers flee so far from their native Egypt they arrive in the
Americas (!) and build an underground mound, where they await a peaceful death
(Ohio to be exact).
This story is, perhaps, the poorest of the collection, due to the
impractical choices Siluk constructs for his characters. Would a mound maker
keep a diary? Why the Americas? Must they really die? Would an ancient Egyptian
truly use the word ‘sidekick’? And being that Hesmaglig was a former teacher of
Tutankhamen, why would he need to use his wife as a sexual distraction for the
guards? Surely he would have access to the King’s chambers? Sadly, the story is
full of weaknesses.
‘The Senator of Lima’ is a suspenseful story that on face value appears
to be the author’s open discussion on the issue of terrorism in Peru. Like many
of Siluk’s stories, the character of Chick Evans is semi-autobiographical, an
innocent author who happens to be friends with the Senator of Lima. However, in
his rise to power, the Senator had made a pact with the very real terrorist
group Movimiento Revolucionario Túpac Amaru (MRTA) and the Senator is
aware that his life is in danger, as he has been unable to pay back his debts.
Locking himself in his hotel room, the Senator asks his friend Evans for help,
but no sooner is Evans confronted by members of MRTA and a verbal contract is
made between them, in a game of cockfighting, Evans must win three out of six
to save the Senator’s life, but if he loses, the Senator has to commit suicide.
It’s a fulfilling ending and, I suspect, contains far more truths than Siluk is
willing to admit.
‘The Old Man, and the Tides of Winter’ would have to be, for me, one of
the most touching stories I have ever read. Set during a typical Minnesotan
winter, an ageing man dwells on his life between his regular visits by his son.
During a harsh storm one night, the old man comes across a young puppy and
adopts it. However, soon after, the old man passes away and is found by his
son, though the puppy is hesitant to leave his deceased master’s lap. His son
takes the puppy and looks after it, on behalf of his father.
‘The Old Man of Chickamauga’ is set in Virginia, 1861, at the time of
the Civil War. The story opens to a distressed old man, who is agonizing over
the destruction of his land, property and death of his son-in-law. The Union
soldiers are outside, preparing to burn down his house. History informs us that
in January 1861, Virginia threatened secession from the union known as the
United States of America. Due to the old man’s resistance to the Union
soldiers, it would be safe to state that this is not West Virginia, for they
did not wish to secede along with the rest of the state and were admitted into
the Union on June 20, 1863. The union soldiers end up burning down the house with
the old man inside, an action which later haunts Lieutenant Foremost. The story
may have been written as a homage to Ambrose Bierce’s ‘An Occurrence at Owl
Creek’, when, towards the end of the story, Siluk has the Lieutenant say,
‘Let’s eat breakfast men…and then we got to go build a bridge at Owl Creek.’ [DOD,
p. 153]
‘The Camel Market’ is a simple story, set in Troy (2900 BCE), in which a
man reminisces of his childhood, working with his (now deceased) father in the
camel market.
Thus ends Death on Demand: Seven Stories of Suspense. Siluk has
crafted some powerfully written and imaginative stories here and continues the
testament by many that small press is the true sanctuary of quality weird
fiction. In a purely complimentary statement, Siluk shares the lust to write
like the infamous Lin Carter, but I do wish he’d approach established markets
and anthologies to showcase his work, rather than a print-on-demand publisher.
Nevertheless, Siluk seemingly enters himself into every one of his characters,
regardless of whether he has visited the locale of his story, or has experienced,
in one form or another, the character’s life. This semi-autobiographical
injection brings more life to each of his characters and narrators and builds
Siluk up as being a Baron Munchausen-like character. Whether others feel
Siluk’s work is deserved of study remains to be seen, though if one is to
acknowledge that he has written and sold over 30 books, one could say that
theoretically he must be doing something right as an author. Time will
only tell.
References
Siluk, Dennis (2003), Death on Demand: Seven Stories of Suspense
(Lincoln, NE. iUniverse Inc).
Notes
1 For some, what can only be described as bizarre reason, Siluk later
expanded and retitled this story as ‘Dracula’s Ghost’. However, I feel that the
story is weakened in this later version and do not recommend reading it prior
to ‘Seventh Born Son’.
2 In the story, the narrator Hesmaglig stands by and watches his friend
inflict a head wound to the young King’s skull. For decades, scientists and
historians have believed this to be the sole cause of Tutankhamen’s death, but
recently, debate has risen that the infamous pharaoh, in fact, died of a
disease-infected wound on his leg.
