Crossroad Press, $4.99, ISBN 978-0463836989
Horror, 2019

The Al-Azif in Tales of the Al-Azif is the original incarnation of the infamous Necronomicon, the encyclopedia of forbidden knowledge concerning Cthulhu, Azathoth, and other fun cosmic creatures in the Lovecraft mythos. So yes, this is another one of those anthologies, but don’t give me that look. The state of horror these days are either this sort of thing or zombies, and I’d take this thing over another formulaic tale of the zombie apocalypse any day.

CT Phillips kicks off the show with The Skull on the Desk. It’s a story set in the deserts, appropriately enough considering the origin of the Kitab Al-Azif, and we have a scholar, Abdul Al’Hazred… wait, that’s the dude that authored the Necronomicon. Ah, I get it, I get it. This is an origin story.

Tormented and guided by confusing dreams, this fellow gives up his inheritance and everything else to seek the Nameless City out there in the dunes. Will he like what he finds in there? That’s always the big question, isn’t it?

This one portrays the lovely fellow as a power-hungry megalomaniac, choosing to become a prophet of Cthulhu and, in doing so, becomes the prime enemy of the Nameless Ones. The story is pretty faithful to the fate of Al’Hazred, but at the same time, it also makes for a gripping and quaint introduction to the rest of the anthology. The whole thing is a neat little clever package, and I like it.

Next up is David J West and, oh wait, a story based on some character in his ongoing series. Well, that fellow doesn’t waste time, does he?

A Manuscript Found in Corcosa features Porter Rockwell. He’s described as “a brute of man” while his female companion Elizabeth Dee is dressed modestly but sexily, as her modest dress shows off all her curves and what not. Our Victorian-era Cthulhu-busters visit Cairo upon the invitation of Sir Arthur Brummell of the Cairo Antiquities Division of the London Royal Geographical Society. The division as received a package containing the manuscript that also becomes the title of this story, you see, so that manuscript is definitely of great significance. The package was mailed anonymously to Sir Brummell’s office, so the whole thing is most curious indeed.

The most polite description I can come up with to describe this one is “watered down”. The story is building up to what seems like something good, and then it just ends, like a balloon deflated by a pin. I reread the last page three times before it really dawns on me that the story really has ended on a low note of flatulence. The villain suddenly pops out of nowhere to shriek his motivation, and then he and his men are gone, the end.

Now, I do like the ending in a way, because it promises to take me to somewhere grand, but considering how this story promises to take me somewhere grand only to leave me high and dry, I have serious doubts about trusting the author on a similar premise.

David Hambling also uses this anthology to advertise his ongoing series. These people aren’t being subtle at all. The Book of Insects features some bloke called Harry Stubbs, not to be confused with that guy from One Direction of course. He is contacted by his ex-business partner’s rival, Captain Cross, for Harry’s aid in locating and retrieving the fabled, no doubt super valuable Al-Azif.

Unlike the previous story, this one is far more successful in selling me Harry Stubbs as the new Nathan Drake or something: same smug attitude, same apparent plot armor against any sort of failure. Had this been a longer story, I would find Stubbs annoying. This story ends when it has to, however, and the pacing is solid. Everything flows well, and the story feels complete and self-contained. I like it. I’m not sure whether I want to spend more time in Stubbs’s company, though.

Matthew Davenport continues the grand tradition of usual this anthology to sell some preexisting series of his. Andrew Doran and the Crawling Caves features, duh, some dude called Andrew Doran.

This fellow is the newly minted dean of Miskatonic University, and he has barely warmed his seat in his office when his sister summons him and his team to do another Relic Hunter thing. His sister writes to him about some student of hers that is some kind of shock, chanting “Al-Azif” over and over. So off they go to the quiet village of Harrisville, a place where folks, especially children, regularly go missing.

This one is alright too. It’s a well-paced, self-contained story that feels complete. There are action, cult loonybin antics, eldritch rituals, and more, and yet I remain curiously unmoved by the whole thing.

It’s more of me, not the author, though. This follows two short stories that are very familiar in tone and style: good guys that are quip-machines regardless of the situation they are in and supposedly great threats that seem way too easily defeated by the combined powers of Buffy-speak and plot armor. By the time I reach this story, I’m already over this kind of stories.

Why don’t we have more serious occult horror fiction, anyway? I have nothing against the styles of these three authors, but stacking them back to back only highlight just how similar their styles are, and the main characters become interchangeable after a while. Also, when the good guys have plot armors that are too obvious, to the point that they can still quip and banter in the face of danger, it’s hard to view the story as horror. It’s also hard to get invested in these characters’ adventures, because it’s evident that nothing will faze them or make them falter even a bit.

The story closes with CT Phipps’s The Laughing Skull, a short closing epilogue of sorts for the opening story as well as this anthology. It’s a nice way to end this anthology.

So, Tales of the Al-Azif. It’s alright, although I wish this anthology has contained more varied stories. When something I’ve paid money for turns out to be an advertising billboard for the authors’ other works, I can’t help feeling tad cheated. I’m looking for an anthology-ish anthology, after all. It’s not the first time they pull this on me, either. While I don’t mind having paid for and read this thing, I’d be wary of buying another anthology from these folks.