A Graveside Gallery

Guignard plumbs macabre depths in this collection of 19 horror stories.

In “Ommetaphobia,” Dean, who was born blind, can suddenly and inexplicably see. But this isn’t the boon it should be, as he’s apparently the only person who sees the myriad eyes that pop up everywhere (including on the wall). Many of the tales herein feature supernatural turns and outlandish creatures, but what truly sets this book apart is its gleeful variety: Stories unfold in different eras all around the globe and feature characters from all walks of life. The narrator of the creepy “O Shades, My Woe,” for example, is a soldier in King Arthur’s army, providing sharp contrast to the individual who meets an alarming fate at a 20th-century roller-skating rink in “Ritual Sacrifice to the Great God of Skates.” For good measure, there are memorable takes on two classics: a (darker) continuation of Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Samuel Whiskersand a curious epilogue to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Guignard skillfully graces the narratives with tense overtones even in those few instances in which readers may predict where a story is going (some characters seem doomed from the beginning while others willingly head toward unfathomable danger). “The First Order of Whaleyville’s Divine Basilisk Handlers,” which closes the collection, epitomizes the overall sense of beneath-the-surface unease: The Whaleyville townsfolk know from the story’s outset that deadly snakelike basilisks are in the vicinity, but narrator Davey seems more interested in catching the attention of the new girl in town. Guignard is an exceptional writer who seeds lyrical passages throughout these stories, like, “The ornamental rings are carved gold, inlaid with rubies, opals, diamonds. To the trained eye they’re well-crafted shams, but to John and Jane Public, she wears a sublime exhibit of precious, glittering gems.”

Extraordinary tales that intoxicate and unnerve.