Fogheart, by Thomas Tessier

Thomas Tessier was once known as the best kept secret in horror fiction. His work always appealed to connoisseurs of the finest writing the horror genre has to offer.

I often hold Peter Straub as the barometer of quality in the field. Few are worthy of comparison. Shirley Jackson, Dan Chaon, T.E.D. Klein, maybe T.M. Wright. Catriona Ward comes close.

Thomas Tessier is one of the only writers who I not only feel is as good as Straub, but their styles are similar.

Both writers were born in America but spent a lot of time in England. The duality of cultural influence brings forth a potent blend of sensibilities. Proper English mannerisms juxtaposed with American colloquialisms.

Both might be considered literary authors. I don’t stoop to the self-congratulatory term, usually used in derision, elevated horror. They're simply great writers.

These guys could blindside you. Straub is a stuffy, professorial writer? Read “A Special Place: The Heart of A Dark Matter.” This novella will freeze your soul, if it doesn't actively make you sick. Same with a short story called The Juniper Tree.”

Tessier was the same way. Take Fogheart as a point of reference.

Fogheart begins like a classical story of spiritualism and occult activity. A modern example of a Victorian approach to horror. Ah, but this novel has dark secrets. Ugly, terrible, filthy surprises.

Two couples are separately experiencing occult phenomena. Both men are snobby shits with little respect for anything but their own appetites. One, an academic bore, has contempt for most people either in or out of his studious circles. The other is a wealthy, world-traveling fabric merchant. Both regard women as objects to be manipulated and used at will.

Their wives are slightly better individuals, but it’s hard to like people who willingly accept oppression as they do.

Strange things are happening and both couples are advised to seek out a spiritualist. She is a tortured soul who curses her supposed gift and longs to leave the land of the living. She isn’t in the seance business for the money. Instead, she wishes to help others who are suffering.

The couples are warned that they may not be happy with the results of the investigations, but in desperation, they proceed.

Ghastly revelations come forth. Buried secrets are unearthed, and also hideous behavior of the present. Tessier takes his readers to depths of depravity that would have fit in well in the transgressive novels released by Dell/Abyss in the subversive nineties.

Fogheart culminates in a kaleidoscopic finale that conjures up powers of the elements and of other worlds just outside our reach. Getting there is a grim but rewarding experience. It’s brilliant and terrifying and utterly harrowing.

Thomas Tessier took leave of this plane last year. He is sorely missed. Tessier wasn’t the type to crank out a serviceable book every year. He started his career off that way, but as the field changed and his work matured, his output slowed. I’ll wait as long as it takes to be able to get books as good as Fogheart , Shock Waves, Phantom, or really, anything he ever published.

I said that Tessier was a big genre secret, but that changed in recent years. Rapture, Finishing Touches, and The Nightwalker were published as part of Valancourt Books Paperbacks from Hell line of retro horror titles. That’s great, and I applaud them for it, but the term, Paperbacks from Hell, brings forth images of pulpy dreck. Tessier’s work is anything but that.

Thomas Tessier is gone. Peter Straub is dead. The old masters are taking their leave, and we don't have spiritualists to let them know how much we appreciated what they gave us. It's a potent lesson. Thank a living writer today for the work we love so much.

Written by Mark Sieber