Reviews of Old and New Stories. Mostly Old

Review of “The Damned Thing” by Ambrose Bierce: Halloween Countdown

4)“The Damned Thing” by Ambrose Bierce

Plot:

The story opens with one man reading an old account book in a room with six other silent men. On the table under a sheet is a corpse; this is an inquest. They await the arrival of a single witness, William Harker, a journalist from the city, who was with the deceased, Hugh Morgan, when he died.

At last Harker comes in, having sent a dispatch of the same testimony he will give at the inquest, but as fiction. It’s too fantastic. Yet, he reads his manuscript under oath.

The coroner asks the jury if they have any questions for the witness. The foreman rises and says, “I should like to ask one question, Mr. Coroner. What asylum did this yer last witness escape from?”

Thoughts:

The author sets the mood in the first few paragraphs and carries the gallows humor throughout the work. The first chapter is titled, “One Does Not Always Eat What is on the Table.” Before long, the reader realizes they are reading about an inquest, and a dead person is on the table. Cute.

As the men sit in silence before Harker’s arrival, Bierce tells the reader, “From the blank darkness outside came in, through the aperture that served for a window, all the ever unfamiliar noises of night in the wilderness—the long nameless note of distant coyote; the stilly pulsing thrill of tireless insects in tree; strange cries night birds so different from those of the birds of the day; the drone of great blundering beetles, and all that mysterious chorus of small sounds that seem always to have been…”

The atmosphere is heavy and forboding. But there is also a rough humor. The jurors, at first curious when the coroner examines Morgan’s body, regret getting too close.

And not all is as it appears.

The person reading the book has some things in common with the other men around the table, but he is also not like them. He is the coroner. Harker, young and from the city, is an outsider and easy to dismiss.

This is a well-crafted, if not particularly pleasant, story. It is quite short and easily read in a single sitting. The author has set up a nice little mystery. I like the beginning more than the ending.

This story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here: (22:03)

Bio: Ambrose Bierce (1842- disappeared 1914) was an American journalist, writer, and Civil War veteran. Among his best-known works are “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge”—familiar to high school students in the U.S.—and The Devil’s Dictionary, a collection of sardonic definitions of common words. He also wrote a memoir, What I Saw at Shiloh, an unsentimental (at least) account of that battle.

There has been much speculation about his death. He is said to have gone to join the forces of Pancho Villa to observe the Mexican Revolution and disappeared, but a small ocean of ink has been spilled about hows, wheres, and whens.

Title: “The Damned Thing”
Author: Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)
First published: Town Topics, December 7, 1893
Length: short story

Review of “The Color Out of Space” by H. P. Lovecraft: Halloween Countdown

3) “The Color Out of Space” by H. P. Lovecraft

Plot:

Our unnamed hero has a job surveying land west of (fictional) Arkham, Massachusetts, for a new reservoir. The locals tell him the place is evil. While making his way through the dense, overgrown forest and deserted farms, he gets spooked. Nothing prepares him for what he’s been told is “blasted heath,” a five-acre area of dirt and ash where nothing grows.

Near it are the remains of a chimney, but the farmhouse and any outbuildings are gone.

The townsfolk tell him the “strange days” occurred in “the [18]eighties,” not all that long before. People don’t like to talk about them. But if our hero really wants to hear about it all, he can listen to old Ammi Pierce’s crazy tales.

When the surveyor locates Ammi, he finds not a lunatic, but an educated man. Ammi tells him it all started with “that great rock that fell out of the sky and bedded itself in the ground beside the well at the Nahum Gardner place.” Then there came “that white noontide cloud, that string of explosions in the air, and that pillar of smoke from the valley far in the wood.”

Professors from (fictional) Miskatonic University came to study it. Nahum Gardner tried to tell them it had shrunk by the time they got there, but they laughed. Rocks don’t shrink. They took the samples back to their lab. Their testing revealed little except for the odd spectrograph.

An electrical storm hit. Gardner claims that the stone “drew the lightning.” In the morning, the meteorite was gone.

In the fall, the Gardners’ fruits and vegetables looked good at harvest, but were inedible. Before long, the livestock grew ill. The meat was also inedible. Vegetation around the area turned odd colors and seemed to glow at times.

It was not natural.

Thoughts:

Lovecraft never defines the lethal agent in the story. Is it living? Does it act with intent? Or is it merely a mindless force doing its thing, heedless of the destruction and horror it causes?

One of the things Lovecraft does so well is to build tension throughout his stories. This is true of this one as well. If there are few surprises, the reader is still interested in the fate of the characters. Poor, innocent Nahum Gardner has done nothing wrong, nor have his wife or their sons.

This story is a taste of Lovecraft’s cosmic horror. The idea behind cosmic horror is that human beings are insignificant to most cosmic powers. Rather than nihilistic, there is some comfort in this. We can go on our merry way without stumbling across Nyarlathotep or Shub-Niggurath or worrying about what either thinks of us. And that’s a good thing. But if we poke too deeply into forbidden things—

Poor old Nahum just happened to be an outlier in the usual cosmic run-of-the-mill—no fault of his own.

This is probably more than you will ever want to know about cosmic horror: H. P. Lovecraft Wiki

The Internet Speculative Fiction Database lists this story as part of the Cthulhu Mythos series.

While the tale is long and Lovecraft is given to purple passages at times, this is a solid yarn. I enjoyed it.

This story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here: (1:27:20)

Bio: H.P. (Howard Phillips) Lovecraft (1890-1937) was an American writer of science fiction, fantasy, and horror. He is best known as the creator of the Cthulhu myths, involving “cosmic horror,” that is, horror that arises from forbidden knowledge. Those who seek such knowledge are often driven insane or die.

Lovecraft originally wanted to be a professional astronomer. He maintained a voluminous correspondence, particularly with other writers. Though his work is now revered as seminal in horror and dark fantasy, he died in poverty at the age of 46 of cancer of the small intestine at his birthplace, Providence, Rhode Island.

Lovecraft was an early contributor to Weird Tales magazine in the 1920s. Among his best-known works are “The Dunwich Horror,” “Dagon,” and “The Call of Cthulhu.”

Title: “The Color Out of Space”
Author: H.P. Lovecraft
First published: Amazing Stories, September 1927
Length: novelette

Review of “Circumstance” by Harriet Prescott Spofford: Halloween Countdown

Note: The story reviewed below deals with violent imagery and sublimated sexual violence as well as not so sublimated racism.

2) “Circumstance” by Harriet Prescott Spofford

Plot:

Walking home from visiting a sick neighbor, through a “wilderness untrod save by stealthy native of deadly panther tribes,” our heroine sees a winding sheet fluttering in the wind. She is in a meadow about to enter the woods. It’s nearing evening, and she faces a three-mile journey. What appears to be a corpse is outlined underneath the winding sheet. It waves “by the likeness of four wan hands.” A voice repeats three times, “The Lord have mercy on the people.”

But the woman is of sterner stuff than most. She thinks of her baby at home and forges on, hardly upset about such silly things as visions, signs, or ghosts.

In the woods, an animal attacks her, biting her arm and pinning her down. This is the so-called “Indian Devil.” Its claws get caught in her clothing. She screams, and the animal hesitates, then proceeds. She screams again, giving the animal pause.

Our hero notes this; she can’t scream all night. She sings. The first thing that comes to mind is lullabies, the sort of things she would sing to her baby, safe at home with her husband. She pictures them. The baby is fast asleep, and the husband is rocking the cradle with his foot. As long as she sings, the animal seems content to let her live.

When our hero runs out of lullabies, she begins to sing sea songs. She despairs of her only hope of her husband ever finding her, and turns to singing hymns she learned as a child. Worn out, going without sleep, and terrified, she undergoes something of a religious rapture and reconciles herself to the idea of dying.

Thoughts:

Aside from the vision(?) of the winding sheet, there are no supernatural elements in this odd little tale.

Outside of having teeth and claws, the attacking animal is never described. I’d never heard of anything called an Indian Devil, but I assumed that because the author spoke of panthers early in the story, a panther attacked our hero. A Google search returned the rather unhelpful answer “wolverine.” While they’re bad-tempered critters, I couldn’t remember hearing about one attacking a human. According to the Wolverine Recovery Strategy, there has never been a documented attack on a human by a wolverine, though, I imagine, like any animal, a cornered one will defend itself.

Some literary criticism of this story treats it as an allegory. For example, our hero, pinned down by the panther, is forced to sing for her life. The author was forced to write to support her siblings. This speaks to the limited opportunities for women in the 19^th century.

Maybe. Smart people with degrees that I don’t have make solid arguments about this stuff. What I found more interesting was that she saw a winding sheet—a harbinger of death—and shrugged it off. What choice did she have, really? Not like she could call an Uber. It was 1860-ish. Yet when she was facing what seemed like certain death, leaving her husband and baby behind, she turned to God. She sang hymns from her childhood, many of them dealing with death. She was already leaving the mundane world behind.

The imagery of the panther pinning her down by her arms is also sexual, ImseldomHO, and the violence surrounding it—our hero is seized and borne aloft into a tree—speak of rape—things no one discussed in the 19^th century. People can hardly speak of them in the 21^st. But that’s an argument for another day.

The author’s great-grandmother was said to have been attacked by a panther. I have been unable to find out anything more about this, however.

This is an interesting and intense story to read with several layers to read, however, it is not free from the prejudice of the times in which it was written. It is engaging to read—the reader feels for the main character and her increasing desperation—but it is also difficult to read because of what the author is saying without saying.

For a discussion:
Narrating Violation: Harriet Prescott Spofford’s “Circumstance”

This story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here: (35:43)

Bio: Harriet Prescott Spofford (1835-1921) was an American short story writer, novelist, and poet who was born in Maine and lived much of her life in Massachusetts. She initially turned to writing to support her invalid mother and younger siblings. Her first (serialized) novel was Sir Rohan’s Ghost, published in 1860. Her writing tends to show the commonplace, alongside the supernatural, and depict the New England dialect, with which she was familiar.

Works consulted:

The Circumstances of Harriet Spofford’s “Circumstance”
By Jacob Frechette and Jon C. Adams
Heath Anthology of American Literature:
Internet Speculative Fiction Database
Encyclopedia of Science Fiction
Wolverine Recovery Strategy:

Title: “Circumstance”
Author: Harriet Prescott Spofford (1835-1921)
First published: The Atlantic Monthly, May 1860
Length: short story

Review of “Berenice” by Edgar Allan Poe: Halloween Countdown

It’s that time of year again. Happy Halloween.

1) “Berenice” by Edgar Allan Poe

Plot:

Egaeus and his cousin Berenice have grown up together and live in an old family house. They are polar opposites. Egaeus tells the reader that Berenice is “agile, graceful, and overflowing with energy.” While he stays home and reads—or whatever—Berenice “ramble[s] on the hill-side.”

…until she gets sick. Egaeus describes her illness as a type of “epilepsy” that eats away at her. She becomes more withdrawn.

Egaeus’s illness takes a different turn. He finds himself concentrating on common objects almost to the point of obsession and trance. His passions are “of the mind” rather than of the heart, so that even when Berenice was her most beautiful, he never loved her. Yet he spoke to her of marriage (first cousins did such things back in the day).

Yeah, this is not going to end well.

Thoughts:

This horror story has no supernatural elements. One of the oddest things is that the reader never hears Berenice speak, either when she’s a happy young thing running over the hills, or a sickly young woman. She remains silent—no laughter and no tears. The reader has no idea what she thinks of her bookish cousin.

The bookish cousin, however, is quite frank about the lovely Berenice. He thinks of her “not as the living and breathing Berenice, but as the Berenice of a dream—not as a being of the earth, earthy, but as the abstraction of such a being—not as an object of love, but the theme of the most abstruse although desultory speculation.”

That’s cold.

The story starts slowly, but the end is a surprise and a bit gory. I did not see it coming. At about twenty minutes in length, it would make a good dramatic reading on a dark and stormy night. According to lore, the present edition is a toned-down version of the original, which ruffled some feathers when it was first published.

This story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here: (21:41)

Bio: Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) was the son of two actors. After his father deserted the family and his mother died of tuberculosis, two-year-old Edgar was taken in by the wealthy Allan family. He briefly studied at the University of Virginia and West Point. His most well-known works include “The Tell-Tale Heart,” “The Black Cat,” and “The Murders in the Rue Morgue.” The last is sometimes cited as the first detective story. The work that made him a household name in his day was the poem “The Raven.”

The circumstances of his death are still unclear. He was found in a tavern, appearing drunk, wearing someone else’s clothes, and died some days later in Washington University Hospital. According to the Poe Museum, twenty-six different theories regarding the cause of his demise have been published. Poe was a known tippler and, while alcohol poisoning is a perennial favorite cause of death, other plausible causes as disparate as rabies and cooping, a 19^th-century form of voter fraud, are often cited.

Title: “Berenice”
Author: Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)
First published: March 1835, Southern Literary Messenger
Length: short story

Review of “Parable of the Sower” by Octavia E. Butler

Note: The novel is set in a dystopian world where the social order has broken down. Violence, including murder, is common. It discusses rape and depicts acts of attempted rape and cannibalism. While the author does not glorify any of this, it can be hard to read.

Plot:

Fifteen-year-old Lauren Olamina lives with her Baptist preacher father, stepmother, and younger brothers in a walled community near Los Angeles in the 2020s. Many people grow their own food.

Things have changed. The walls keep out not only the wild dogs that attack humans but the thieves and drug addicts that loot and burn. A new drug, referred to as “pyro” or “’ro” makes addicts enjoy watching fire.

Lauren was born with hyperempathy, a condition that makes her feel the physical and emotional pain she witnesses in another person, even if she inflicted that pain. Her father sees this as a handicap and tries to talk her out of it. She doesn’t really feel that pain.

But she does.

Lauren thinks. She wonders. She begins to see things as they are. She writes:

All that you touch
You change.

All that you change
Changes you.

The only lasting truth
is change.

God
Is Change.

She knows a time will come to leave the walled enclave. She doesn’t foresee how the departure comes, or the devastating loss. But she dreams of humanity leaving Earth for another planet.

Thoughts:

Written in the 1990s, this book looks about thirty years into the future, when the fabric of society has broken down. Fire and police services exist but are unreliable and as likely to rob citizens as to assist them, provided they show up. There is a President Donner. He loosens labor protections, giving rise to old-fashioned company towns and debt-servitude. (“St. Peter doncha call me…”)

And yet, the space program still exists. Go figure.

The work has a dark but not a hopeless outlook. Everyone involved has lost someone dear to them, as well as their home. Because few cars exist, people walk along the freeways, migrating north in search of a better life. The reader sympathizes with Lauren and those she meets along the way, knowing that so much good stuff is going to hit the fan before they get where they’re going. Do they know where they’re going? Crossing the border into Oregon is not like crossing into a foreign country.

Lauren might not have a grand plan, but she understands change is inevitable and constant. Her design it to control that change.

This book is the first of a planned six-volume series which Butler did not live to complete. The second volume, The Parable of the Talents, was published in 1998. Butler began work on the third.

I liked this book, though not without reservations. I’d like to read the second book, though I imagine it will have little in common with this one.

But it really is time for a cheerier read.

Bio: Octavia E. Butler (1947-2006) was an African-American science fiction and speculative fiction writer who grew up in poverty. Her most notable works include the time-traveling novel Kindred and the Xenogenesis Trilogy. Among her awards are Hugo Awards for Best Short Story and Best Novelette, and Nebula Awards for Best Novelette and Best Novel. She is the only science fiction writer to win a John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation “Genius” Grant.

Title: Parable of the Sower
Author: Octavia E. Butler (1947-2006)
First published: 1993
Length: novel
Series: Parable of the Sower/Earthseed #1

Review of “Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets” by Svetlana Alexievich

A note: This collection of oral histories relates various accounts of violence and social upheaval, including wartime atrocities, antisemitism, suicide, including the suicide of a teenager, and murder. It is a difficult read and most definitely not one for the kiddies.

The Stuff:

Author Svetlana Alexievich divided her collection of oral histories into two broad groups. The first group deals with narratives from 1991 to 2001, and the second from 2002 to 2012. These are prefaced by a helpful timeline of Russian history beginning with Josef Stalin’s 1953 death and ending in 2016, and an introductory “Remarks from an Accomplice.” The last is unsigned, but I feel safe in assuming the author wrote it.

The “Remarks” discusses several recurring themes in the oral histories. Alexievich mentions that she asked everyone she met what “freedom” meant. “Fathers and children had very different answers. Those who were born in the USSR and those born after its collapse do not share a common experience—it’s like they were from different planets.” (p. 5)

Occasional nostalgia for the Soviet Union appears, not because times were so much better then but because the present time is so uncertain.

One elderly man recalls seeing a Bolshevik for the first time (pre-Russian Revolution): “[he told us] everyone would live like brothers and sisters, everyone would be equal. How can you not fall in love with a dream like that? Poor people, people who had nothing, believed the Bolsheviks. They won the support of the youth. We walked through the streets crying, ‘Melt down the church bells! Turn them into tractors!’” (p. 172)

The author herself, however, holds no such soft spot for Communism. “Perhaps it was communism’s only achievement. Seventy-plus years in the Marxist-Leninist laboratory gave rise to a new man: homo sovieticus. Some see him as a tragic figure, others see him as a sovok.” In a footnote, the author explains: “Sovok is a widely used pejorative term for one who adheres to Soviet values, attitudes, and behaviors. The word can also refer to the Soviet Union itself. It is a pun on the word for ‘dustpan.’” (p. 3)

The stories are universally of loss, despair, confusion, and isolation. A mother receives her police deputy daughter’s remains from the war in Chechnya with the official notice that her daughter died by suicide. The mother defies the instructions not to open the coffin, as within is a mess. She finds not a “mess,” but the gunshot wound on the opposite side of the head the authorities described. What else have they lied or misinformed her about?

Yet, at times the writing is beautiful, if stark. One interviewee, resettled as a child from Poland into Siberia, told the author:

My older sister Vladya recalled how surprised I was when I learned that goats don’t talk like we do, I was confused, I thought they were our equals. We shared a world, it seemed indivisible. I still don’t feel the difference between us, I still don’t feel the distinction between man and animal. I talk to them…they understand me…such colorful beetles, as if they’d been painted. My toys. In spring, we’d go out into the sunshine together, crawling through the grass in search of food. Warming ourselves. In winter, we’d go dormant like the trees, hibernating from hunger. I had my own school, humans weren’t my only teachers. I can hear the trees and the grass too. (p. 226)

And this chilling warning: “There is nothing more terrifying than an idealist.” (p. 295)

Thoughts:

At times, I wondered if the author had, well, embellished certain points. Some stories are just breathtakingly terrifying. A few interviewees confess. People who had been tortured in the most grisly ways, or lost loved ones in the prison system, return home and, after glasnost and perestroika, see the neighbors who had tortured them. Is there an Emily Post column about the proper etiquette in such situations?

I accept that the author edited the interviews. No one, I believe, takes the interviews written here as word-for-word transcripts. Some editing is necessary for clarity, to perhaps trim down repetition or filter out bad grammar or correct mistakes.

Some discussion is here.

Secondhand Time won the 2015 Nobel Prize for Literature. It is also a New York Times Bestseller, and #72 on the New York Times Best One Hundred Books of the 21^st Century list.

While the stories are important for the historical record, they are very depressing, with no reprieve. No one offers a solution. Few believe there is a solution. The best one can hope for is to cultivate one’s garden. Let the world go to hell, because it is.

After finishing this book, I think I’ll retire to the woods with a shotgun and a bit of vodka:

But seriously, it’s time for a cheerier read.

Title: Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets: An Oral History
Author: Svetlana Alexievich
First published: 2012
Length: nonfiction book

Review of “Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation” by Kristin Kobes Du Mez

A note: The book reviewed below deals with clergy sexual abuse.

The Stuff:

Written by historian Kristin Kobes Du Mez, this book examines Christian nationalism as an alien influence that first invaded and corrupted American evangelical Christianity and now threatens American society and government.

Du Mez points to fear in an uncertain world—the threat of godless Communists and nuclear attack or the dread of god turning away from America because of sexual immorality*—driving conservatives toward a more defensive, warrior stance. The same conservatives saw John Wayne as a hero of masculinity in the post-WWII years. Du Mez quotes Baptist scholar Alan Bean: “The mantra of post-war evangelicalism was simple: Jesus can save your soul; but John Wayne will save your ass.” (p. 59)

I must admit this confused me. John Wayne was an actor. He never served in the military, though he dearly wished to enlist during WWII. No image on a movie screen is going to save anyone’s ass. The best he could do was encourage you to buy war bonds, and that time is long gone.

A journalism instructor I had long ago and far away once told a class that he did a stint for one of the scandal sheets. One of this particular scandal sheet’s favorite things was printing fabricated stories about John Wayne being thrown out of bars. Once in a while, they’d get their wires crossed and print stories of him being thrown out of a bar in, say, Tokyo at the same time he was supposedly thrown out of a bar in, say, Munich. So, John Wayne was a paragon of Christian manly virtues? Hmmmm…

Nevertheless, conservative Christians used the image of cowboy/soldier John Wayne to create an ideal for men to aspire to, even (especially?) if they’d never seen a John Wayne movie. Didn’t anyone stop to think it was all celluloid and mirrors?

Du Mez traces the absorption of these “warrior” and hypermasculine ideas into the evangelical communities, which caused a greater dichotomy between men and women and the marginalization of LGBTQ + communities. She goes further and shows the damage teaching corporal punishment can cause.

In her final chapters, she examines the sexual abuse of young parishioners by clergy and how the church elders are quick to reconcile with the abuser and ostracize the victim. They “rehabilitate” the clergy without requiring the slightest bit of work, change in venue, retreat, or even treatment. And for goodness’ sake, let’s not get the police involved. In one chilling passage, she writes:

Since 1998, around 380 perpetrators [of sexual misconduct, assault, rape, molestation, etc.] within the [Southern Baptist Convention] had left a trail of more than 700 victims. In the wake of these allegations, the leadership of the SBC denied collective culpability, drawing attention to the autonomy afforded local churches within the SBC. Yet the SBC has a record of “removing from fellowship” churches that hired female pastors, even as they appeared unable to discipline known sex offenders. Many victims had been urged to forgive their abusers, and it was victims, rather than predators, who ended up frequently shunned by their churches. (p. 291)

Thoughts:

I found this book difficult to read not because the author’s writing style was unclear or convoluted. On the contrary, the writing is easy to follow and clear throughout. Du Mez seems to like a story with a beginning, middle, and an end. I don’t know if that’s because she’s a historian, but it works. She puts events into context nicely.

However, the events she relates made me so angry I had to take frequent breaks. She does not use inflammatory language. This is definitely not clickbait. The hypermasculine creed produces only conquerors and conquered. A few bastards get rich, but do any learn to treat our fellow humans better?

Salman Rushdie said it best: “Fundamentalism isn’t about religion. It’s about power.”

Du Mez shows this power exercising itself in political forums, in churches that will not discipline or report predatory clergy, and in interpersonal relationships. Men are the head of the family. Much of the literature encourages women to remain dependent first on their fathers, then their husbands.

There is opposition within the Christian and evangelical communities, but these guys are aiming high. I’d like to see at least some of them handed their metaphorical culus come this November.

My fellow Americans, please vote.

*Isn’t that what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah? Not exactly.

Bio: Kristin Kobes Du Mez is an American author and Professor of History at Calvin University in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Her research focuses on the intersection of gender, religion, and politics. She has written for The New York Times, The Washington Post, NBC News, Religion News Service, and Christianity Today. Among her works is A New Gospel for Women: Katharine Bushnell and the Challenge of Christian Feminism (2015). A new book, Live Laugh Love: The Secret History of White Christian Women and the World They Made is forthcoming in September 2026.

A short film dealing with clergy abuse, For Our Daughters (2024), based on the last chapters of Jesus and John Wayne is available on YouTube.

Title: Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation
Author: Kristin Kobes Du Mez
First published: 2020
Length: nonfiction book

From Deep Time: August 17, 2018

Review of “Deerstalking: Contemplating an Old Tradition” by Page Lambert

Review of “Not Your Founding Father” by Nina Sankovitch

The Stuff:

This book presents a biography of a religious leader who took the name Public Universal Friend in the late 18^th century. Jemima Wilkinson, a twenty-three-year-old woman from a Quaker family in Rhode Island, became seriously ill in 1776 during the American Revolution. The Friend said Jemima died and was infused with a new spirit. The risen person no longer answered to the name Jemima but insisted on being called Public Universal Friend, or, more simply, the Friend.

Even in contemporary accounts, people sympathetic to the minister avoided using “she” or “he” in reference to the Friend. The Friend shunned women’s dress of the day for long black robes, scarves, and broad-brimmed hats outdoors. Indoors, the minister went bare-headed like a man.

Consistent with Quaker tradition that welcomed women preachers, the Friend preached. The sermons contained messages of repentance and redemption. The minister required her followers to manumit all their slaves, because God held all human beings equal before him.

The Friend found some wealthy backers. Eventually, the minister established a community in the present-day Finger Lakes District of upstate New York. Here, women—even married women—could hold property, despite the marriage and property laws of the day known as coverture, or what’s the wife’s is the husband’s.

Even if the title to the community’s property was never secure because of dishonest land speculators, resentful community members and former members, author Nina Sankovitch points to the brief time the religious community built around the Friend as something that approximated the ideals of the Revolution more than society at large did. The minister welcomed people of all backgrounds, male and female. Emancipated slaves, native Americans, widows, and orphans were accepted. Natives who did not join the community were still allowed to hunt on community lands.

Thoughts:

One problem the author acknowledges is documentation. The Friend left little writing. Sankovitch posits that people were drawn to the minister more in person than in print. The community dissolved in the 1860s, but even by the time the minister died in 1819, most of the members were in their fifties or older. One scurrilous biography appeared during her lifetime, written by a person who was involved in various land disputes with the Society of Universal Friends.

This biography was an interesting read, but I found myself a little annoyed at times when the author hinted at things to come, almost as if to say, “Stay tuned…” For instance, when things finally look good after a first disastrous year at the new colony in upstate New York, one member, still in Rhode Island, has a dream (an important portent in the group) she takes to mean the Universal Friend’s dream of an Eden in the wilderness is coming true.

“But into every Eden comes a snake,” Sankovitch tells the reader.

True enough, but a bit heavy-handed.

Sankovitch discusses the Sullivan Campaign under George Washington, which removed the Natives living in upstate New York. The justification was that many of the peoples had aligned with the British during the Revolution. The result was a lot of farmland opened to settlers in upstate New York.

Because this is about a religious leader, the reader will hear a lot about the Bible and religion, the day of reckoning, etc. If this is not your thing, you may find the book skippable.

I liked it.

Bio: Nina Sankovitch is a graduate of Tufts University and Harvard Law School, and has worked at many jobs. Her books include the nonfiction American Rebels and The Lowells of Massachusetts and the memoir Tolstoy and the Purple Chair. Her writing has appeared in The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, and Vogue, and she is a former judge for the Book of the Month Club.

Title: Not Your Founding Father: How a Nonbinary Minister Became America’s Most Radical Revolutionary
Author: Nina Sankovitch
First published: 2026
Length: nonfiction book

Review of “Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter” (1974)

trailer from YouTube

Plot:

A young woman sits in the woods brushing her blond pigtails that looked to me like a wig. She wears a cross and an ankle-length blue dress and white blouse, telling the viewer she’s a late 18^th-century peasant. Her friend Ann (Elizabeth Dear) teases her, then departs to find flowers for her hair. While Ms. Blond looks in her mirror and brushes her hair, she sees a cloaked figure appear over her shoulder.

She turns around. At first, she’s frightened, but then she smiles.

The viewer next sees Dr. Marcus (John Carson) riding through the woods. He sees Ann standing still among the trees and calls out to her. Ann doesn’t respond. He dismounts and realizes she’s staring at Ms. Blond, seated beneath a tree. He rushes to her, only to find her face aged horribly and a trickle of blood running down her lip.

Sadly, this is not the first case of premature aging of a young person the good doctor has seen.

He calls in an old army buddy, Captain Kronos (Horst Janson), who comes riding into town while the opening credits roll. The captain’s saddle blanket is emblazoned with a stylized “K.” Behind him in a horse-drawn cart is Professor Hieronymus Grost (John Cater), a scholar and a hunchback.

On the way, Kronos comes across a pretty woman (Caroline Munro) in the stocks decorated with tomato goo. This is her punishment for dancing on a Sunday. He frees her, breaking the metal locks off with his sword. Uh-huh. Her name is Carla, and she climbs into the cart behind Grost.

Upon reaching town, Grost tells Dr. Marcus he’s dealing with a vampire. Not all vampires drain blood. This vampire drains youth. So, they should be looking for a very young-looking person.

They then discuss methods of dispatching this youth-draining vampire. The traditional stake through the heart might not do. So—hanging? Fire?

Chekhov’s gun?

Thoughts:

Two very good-looking young people show up, the brother and sister duo, Paul (Shane Briant) and Sara (Lois Daine) Durward, the children of the late Lord Hagen Durward (William Hobbs), one of the greatest swordsmen of all time. Dr. Marcus’s treatment for plague failed to save him. Lady Durward (Wanda Ventham) is bedridden, ill, and grieving.

Plus, Sara has a habit of leaving home at odd times on completely legitimate errands. Hmm…

Someone pays the local roughs to attack Kronos. The viewer knows the head bad’un is rotten when he cheats the local working girl. He’s a bad, bad boy. I’ll bet he cheats at golf, too.

Many of the online reviewers like the scene where the bad guys insult Grost and pounce on Kronos, but I found it weird. For one, in the drinking establishment where they rumble, a woman sits at a table blindfolded, sipping a drink. No explanation is offered for her, nor does she appear again. Was she a captive of the bad’uns? Is she taste-testing local wines? Is she recovering from eye surgery? Your guess is as good as mine.

When violence breaks out, the proprietors duck behind the bar, peek out, and duck progressively lower, lending a bit of humor to the scene. It was cute, but not quite believable—as if the rest of the movie were.

There is also a perfectly gratuitous tumble in the hay between Kronos and Carla—quite literally. They’re in a barn. But at least they don’t frighten the horses.

The ending surprised me, and it was full of glorious melodrama. I enjoyed it. The vampire used their ability to hypnotize people to freeze them in place. One unfortunate actress had to stand with her arms outstretched for who knows how long. It was lovely, sublime, and silly, and capped off with a sword fight.

According to Wikipedia and IMDB (one probably got it from the other), this movie was supposed to start a franchise, but didn’t do well. Captain Kronos is given an origin story and a visible physical wound that, to my untrained eye, looks unsurvivable before twentieth-century surgery.

I’ve been poking fun. There is a lot to poke fun at about this movie, but I enjoyed it. I won’t be in a hurry to watch it again, but I liked it.

This movie can be watched here:

Title: Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter (1974)

Director
Brian Clemens…directed by

Writer
Brian Clemens…written by

ProducersBrian Clemens…producer
Albert Fennell…producer

Cast (in credits order)
Horst Janson…Kronos
John Carson…Dr. Marcus
Shane Briant…Paul Durward
Caroline Munro…Carla
John Cater…Grost

Released: 1974
Length: 1 hour, 31 minutes
Rated: R