If there were a Horror Literature Hall of Fame (or should that be Haunted Mansion of Fame?), the faces on the gilded portraits bearing down from its walls would doubtless look awfully similar. The sallow, sunken features of Edgar Allen Poe, the monumental, Moai-esque head of H.P. Lovecraft, the thin-lipped visage of Stephen King – the public faces of the genre have been overbearingly male since the teenage Mary Shelley had her name omitted from the first publication of Frankenstein. Read more…
4 books about the unquiet mind, brought to you by us at 4th Estate.
‘Where is my mind, Where is my mind’