In this bi-weekly series reviewing classic science fiction and fantasy books, Alan Brown looks at the front lines and frontiers of the field; books about soldiers and spacers, scientists and engineers, explorers and adventurers. Stories full of what Shakespeare used to refer to as “alarums and excursions”: battles, chases, clashes, and the stuff of excitement.
I recently read Roger Zelazny’s A Night in the Lonesome October, which I missed when it was first published in 1993, and I’m glad I finally found it—it’s been a long time since I read a book that gave me so much enjoyment. It is a Halloween tale, a story of monsters, horror, and peril, but is sweet and funny at the same time. And the protagonist, Snuff (who happens to be a dog) is an absolute delight.
When I went looking online for a copy of A Night in the Lonesome October, I found a nice reprint from 2014, a trade paperback from Chicago Review Press, an outfit I’d not previously encountered. When I opened it, I was delighted to see the book was illustrated by Gahan Wilson, who has been one of my favorite cartoonists ever since I encountered him in Playboy when I was in college (yes, among the articles with inappropriate advice on how to interact with women, and pictures that created unreasonable expectations of what they looked like unclothed, you could find some very good science fiction stories and cartoons). Upon finishing A Night in the Lonesome October, I found myself craving for some more from Gahan Wilson, and dug through my basement until I found Still Weird, a 1994 collection of Wilson’s cartoons published by Tom Doherty’s Forge Books (a volume I’d recommend to anyone wanting a good sampling of Wilson’s work).
As a dog owner, I especially enjoyed finding a book that puts a dog at the center of the action. There are plenty of cats in science fiction and fantasy (one might say you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting one), but not enough characters of the canine variety.
This is not the first time A Night in the Lonesome October has appeared on the Reactor website, with Rachel Ayers wrote about in an essay originally published in 2021.
About the Author
Roger Zelazny (1937-1995) was one of the most popular American writers of fantasy and science fiction in the latter half of the twentieth century. I previously reviewed the first book of Zelazny’s famous Amber series, and that column contains a fairly extensive biography of the author. And I reviewed his novel Damnation Alley here.
About the Illustrator
Gahan Wilson (1930-2019) was an American illustrator and author, most widely known for cartoons that featured dark and macabre humor. His work appeared in a variety of magazines, including The New Yorker, Playboy, Colliers, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, and The National Lampoon. He also wrote fiction, and film and book reviews. He received a lifetime achievement award from the World Fantasy Convention in 2005.
Cozy Fantasy
When I was young, I read pretty much everything I could get my hands on (including the ingredients on the back of cereal boxes). I’d read some of the mystery books my mother enjoyed, which are today referred to as “cozy mysteries.” Later on, mom introduced me to M.C. Beaton’s character Hamish MacBeth, and he became a mutual favorite of ours. Wikipedia offers this definition: “Cozy mysteries (also referred to as cozies), are a sub-genre of crime fiction in which sex and violence occur offstage, the detective is an amateur sleuth, and the crime and detection take place in a small, socially intimate community.”
Lately, I’ve been seeing the term “cozy fantasy” cropping up more and more. My first encounter with what seems on its way to becoming a thriving sub-genre was the book Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree, a book I enjoyed so much, I picked up the prequel, Bookshops and Bonedust, as soon as it was published. I couldn’t find a definitive description of this new subgenre, but I did find this helpful list of cozy fantasies that Barnes & Noble recommends. The adjectives I found people using to describe cozy fantasies include romantic, wholesome, comfortable, warm, upbeat, and healing. There are some common elements these books share with the cozy mystery subgenre, but they remind me more of the romance stories I used to read in my mom’s magazines like Redbook, gentle tales of love and affection. A favorite romance author my mom and I enjoyed was Rosamunde Pilcher, whose short work was especially notable, getting you to care about characters you’d never encountered before in the space of a few hundred words.
Like many subgenres, however, you can look around and see books fitting an apparently new category that in reality existed long before it was defined and popularized. I would suggest that A Night in the Lonesome October fits that bill. With its quirky characters, small community, sleuthing, gentle romance, and with most of the violence happening off screen, it could easily be seen as a “proto-cozy” fantasy.
A Night in the Lonesome October
This is a book that includes homages to a number of authors, and also to old movies (I recognized a few elements drawn from my favorite Universal monster movies). Zelazny dedicates the book to Mary Shelley, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stoker, Arthur Conan Doyle, H.P. Lovecraft, Ray Bradbury, Robert Bloch, Albert Payson Terhune, and the makers of those old movies. While knowing the work of these authors will help the reader find many of the “Easter eggs” Zelazny includes along the way, the book stands on its own as an enjoyable tale even without such knowledge.
The watchdog Snuff introduces the tale, explaining that he and his master Jack are tasked with protecting the world from a number of curses and monsters, some of which are trapped around their house in steamer trunks, wardrobes, mirrors, and within circles. He explains that Jack, whose most valuable tools are a wand and a knife, is under a curse, and goes out into the night to do bad things that keep worse things from happening (the strong suggestion being that Jack is the infamous Jack the Ripper). Snuff is a wonderful character, as intelligent than a human (if not more so), but with a uniquely doggish personality, who learns as much from sniffing as seeing, is dedicated to his tasks, and is loyal to his master.
Snuff then organizes his tale into thirty-one chapters, one for each day in the month of October, with the book reaching its conclusion on Halloween. Many readers make it a tradition to read (or re-read) the book by covering a chapter a day during that month. One of the best features of the book is that it teases out information very slowly, and thus I will not provide a linear summary of the plot, as that would give away much of what makes the story so enjoyable. The book seems to be set in England during the late Victorian era, but there are very few clues to the specific time and place.
Snuff spends a lot of time watching the neighborhood, and one of the characters he encounters most frequently is the cat Graymalk, who lives with a woman called Crazy Jill. Graymalk is engaged in the same behavior as him, but while Snuff classifies what he is doing as “watching,” he dismissively refers to the cat’s activities as spying. They warily trade information (in this tale animals can talk to each other, and under certain conditions, with humans), and it becomes clear that their neighborhood is full of strange characters, each of them with their own animal familiars.
Soon there is reference to a Game, and it is Snuff’s job to find the players of that Game, determine their loyalties (are they “openers” or “closers”?), and also to figure out the exact spot where the Game will be played. Graymalk and Snuff begin to spend more time together, working to learn more about the upcoming Game, which seems to involve some sort of opening to the spirit world that occurs whenever a full moon falls on Halloween. Snuff is concerned because his master is spending time with Crazy Jill, whose loyalty has not yet been determined, though the dog remains oblivious to the fact that his own relationship with Graymalk could also be problematic. The growing bond between the initially suspicious cat and dog pair is one of the high points of the book.
The neighborhood becomes populated with strange characters. There is a mysterious Russian monk, awash in depression and alcohol. A mad scientist who experiments with electricity shares his house with a gentle giant of a man who smells (to Snuff) like death. The local vicar, feigning concern over dark forces at work in the neighborhood, has deputized parishioners to hunt down the various familiars with crossbows, adding an element of danger to Snuff’s watchdog work. There is a vampire, known only as the Count, who has ties to a group of travelers that have taken residence in a nearby field. And there are various other strange people, some of whom seem to be working together, while others are at odds. Snuff interacts with include animal familiars including bats, snakes, rats, ravens, owls, squirrels, and others. There are murders, kidnappings, and thefts of arcane artifacts. A one point, a lost shadow must be recovered. There is a man named Larry, who seems involved in the game, but does not have an animal familiar, and who becomes a particular friend of Snuff. And through the simple but evocative drawings of Gahan Wilson, we see this world of quirky and strange characters come to life.
All this mayhem attracts a man known as the Great Detective, looking to solve the murders and disappearances, but also to figure out what motivates all these strange goings-on. That detective is obviously Sherlock Holmes, and one of the things I found amusing in the book is how that master of disguise seems especially attached to appearing as a woman. While Snuff, observing the Detective wearing women’s clothes even when he’s at home, chalks this up to devotion to the craft of disguise, I wondered if the reason we never saw Holmes truly happy or at ease in Doyle’s original stories is because he was more comfortable inhabiting another persona entirely.
Poor Snuff has to deal with disposal of dead bodies, physical attacks, metaphysical attacks, all while figuring who he can trust, and at the same time calculating the shape of a Game that is growing ever closer to a climax. He is a trusting soul, and thinks the best of all the animals he interacts with, if not the humans around them. By the end of the story, the location and purpose of the Game becomes clear, the players and their loyalties are apparent, and the story gallops to a thrilling conclusion with the fate of the world hanging in the balance. It ends in a rush, but a very satisfying rush, which left me with a big smile on my face. In the end, we find that not all heroes are handsome or chosen for that role, and that bravery, cleverness, and affection (and the loyalty of a good dog) are what matters the most.
Final Thoughts
I’m so glad I finally read A Night in the Lonesome October, because it truly ranks among the best of Roger Zelazny’s fine body of work. It is a breezy and enjoyable read, but it has a richness of detail and emotion that gives it weight and depth. And Gahan Wilson’s quirky illustrations are just icing on the cake. And now I look forward to hearing your thoughts, on A Night in the Lonesome October, or on Zelazny and his work in general. And if you have any other favorite Halloween tales, I’d love to hear about them, too.
