Review: The Yattering and Jack

If there's one surefire way to my heart, it's through a tale told from the perspective of some poor monster who can't seem to give a good scare. Add to that the threat of professional retaliation from the upper echelons of Hell's bureaucracy, and you've got a winner in my book.

Clive Barker's short story "The Yattering and Jack" hits all the high notes. It features a minor demon, the Yattering, who is bound to the house of Jack Polo until he manages to drive Jack to insanity, all because Jack's mother swore away his soul and then failed to deliver. Still, Jack is seemingly unflappable, and it's the Yattering rather than Jack who ends up getting driven around the bend. The twist comes when we learn that Jack has been carefully playing his cards to gain the upper hand on his unwanted houseguest—a twist I honestly could have done without. I liked the Yattering as my protagonist, and I wasn't too keen on the head-hopping that occurred throughout the last third of the story as we got glimpses at last into Jack's point of view. The Yattering's defeat at the end felt more like a tragedy than it did Jack's victory, since by that point I was far more invested in the Yattering as a character. Why couldn't he have just driven Jack mad and earned that promotion? Poor guy.

There's a number of reasons this story worked for me, and a handful of reasons why it didn't. In the plus column, we've got a highly empathetic protagonist—despite the fact that he's a demon. He doesn't really want to be hurting Jack, after all, who seems like a nice enough guy. But he's bound, that's the law, and he would rather ruin some shmuck's life than incur the wrath of the great lord Beelzebub. Who can't relate? Plus, the tone Barker imbues into the story is comedic gold: the perfect balance of earnest, apologetic, and self-aware (The man's a gherkin importer? Really? The story has to know it's a comedy). It really is a well-written piece of work; style, characterization, dialogue—all blend into the background of the storytelling as they should in any good fiction. Not once did a description or turn of phrase pull me out of the story (unlike Stephen King's disappointing "Cycle of the Werewolf" last week).

Nonetheless, there were a few ticks in the (considerably shorter) minus column. I've already mentioned the head-hopping, which was the only real moment I was pulled from the story. For a few pages we switch back and forth between Jack's and the Yattering's perspectives, sometimes seemingly within the same paragraph. All things considered, though, it's a minor infraction, and one I can forgive. The only other strike against this story for me was actually the topic we discussed in this week's Writers Workshop of Horror essay, "Fight and Action Scenes in Horror," by award-winning author Jonathan Maberry.

As funny as the premise of the story was, and as cute as I found the Yattering's character, I still wanted horror. I still wanted goosebumps and the thrill of a good scare. Those could have come through the action sequences. The Yattering blows up a cat. That's awful, but good horror. The reanimated Christmas turkey, though? That's just funny. Same with the whirling Christmas tree, the exploding television, the back-and-forth with the door lock. I felt a little let down. I spent this whole story growing to love the Yattering; I wanted to see his best work. I didn't want to come to the conclusion, in the end, that he was really just an incompetent joke. This was his moment to shine: I wanted fireworks, not turkey grease.

That's not to say that Barker can't write action. "Rawhead Rex" proved well enough he can. And the action scenes in "The Yattering and Jack" weren't poorly written as far as description goes; the problem was more with what they were describing. Why couldn't it have been a live turkey in the oven, rather than a jumping, bumping carcass? Why couldn't the Christmas tree have started shooting its needles from the beginning, to spare us all the image of spinning, dancing tinsel? Barker even uses the words "pirouetting," "tarantella," and "ballet"! It's like he meant these images to be funny, too—and this is not where I wanted my giggles.

So maybe the issue is less with the action scenes themselves and more a result of misplaced humor. Still, if you'd rather laugh than be scared, I'm sure they do the job quite nicely. Mr. Barker is a talented writer, and "The Yattering and Jack" proves no exception. So go out and grab yourself a copy, and prepare to find a new favorite monster in the Yattering.


Citations: Barker, Clive. "The Yattering and Jack." Books of Blood. Vol. 1, Kindle ed., Crossroad Press, 2013.

Maberry, Jonathan. "Fight and Action Scenes in Horror." Writers Workshop of Horror, edited by Michael Knost, Woodland Press, 2010, pp. 109-116.