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THE MASK OF RED DEATH should have been a riveting read. It has all the elements of an over-the-top page turner - serial murderers, cannibalism, literary rivalries, mysterious documents, and larger-than-life historical figures such as Edgar Allan Poe, Kit Carson, and P T Barnum. Unfortunately, that was one character too many. Kit Carson is suitably brave and laconic. P T Barnum is entertainingly bombastic and mercenary. But Edgar Allan Poe, cast as the hero and narrator in the third of this series, is unrecognizable. Schechter's Poe still writes horror stories, but is fastidiously unable to deal with coarseness, vulgarity, or violence. He is poor, but doesn't seem overly worried about his financial situation and seems to be able to get anything he needs. He is content within a sexless marriage, his wife's fatal illness having been reduced to a slight weakness that needs little medicine. Most importantly, he assures the reader, he might be "inordinately susceptible" to alcohol, but he has "never been guilty of intemperance." This announcement comes immediately before he drinks rum without any affect. Why Schechter felt the need to create a happier and more sober Poe when he could have simply come up with an original character is uncertain. However, it doesn't matter in the long run if the protagonist is Edgar Allan Poe or Eddie the Accountant. What matters is that the person who does most of the talking is a crashing bore, delivering leaden lectures every time he opens his mouth. When seeing a horse beaten, he says: "I perceive, Kit, that you are exceedingly incensed by this sickening display of brutality . . . Your feelings do you credit. Unfortunately, the mistreatment of animals is an all-too-common feature of our city. The lower classes in particular show little, if any, tenderness toward members of the four-legged kingdom. Though you may be tempted to intercede in this matter, I would urge you to refrain from doing so. To become embroiled at this moment in a public altercation would run counter to our immediate purpose, which is to proceed with our investigation in a manner that calls the least possible attention to yourself." He reassures his wife after an accident: "As you can see, my arm functions normally, having suffered nothing worse than a painful bruising whose most serious consequence is likely to be an unsightly hematoma, or, to use its common designation, black-and-blue mark." And he breaks up a fight when he "spoke thusly: 'Desist at once from your cowardly onslaught! I shall not scruple to discharge this weapon at the next man to make even the smallest movement!'" There are the bones of a thrilling mystery in this book. Unfortunately, they are buried not under a mask, but under the most torturous prose ever put in the mouth of an actual human being.
Reviewed by Linnea Dodson, August 2004
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Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)
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