The Fog

The Fog

by James Herbert

Paperback(Reprint)

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Overview


The Fog is a powerful, classic horror novel that begins with a crack that rips the earth apart. Peaceful village life shattered. But the disaster is just the beginning. Out of the bottomless pit creeps a malevolent fog. Spreading through the air it leaves a deadly, horrifying trail, destined to devastate the lives of all those it encounters.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781509865451
Publisher: Pan Macmillan
Publication date: 01/01/2019
Edition description: Reprint
Pages: 352
Sales rank: 234,656
Product dimensions: 5.10(w) x 7.70(h) x 1.00(d)

About the Author


James Herbert was Britain's number one bestselling writer of chiller fiction, with 23 novels having sold more than 54 million copies worldwide.

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The Fog 4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
dmsteyn on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
I had hoped that this would be a light distraction from some of the heavier books I've been reading, and it was, to a degree. But I seriously doubt if I'm going to be reading any more of Herbert's books. This just wasn't good enough to consider putting myself through a similar experience. Many people compare him to Steve King, and I can see why - they've got a similar knack for storytelling, and both obviously write about similar things. Heck, King even got me to read this, because of his reviews of Herbert in Danse Macabre. But believe me, having read quite a bit of King, he is a much better writer than Herbert. Not to say King is a particularly good writer: he has a way of writing, and he usually sticks to it, outside of a few salubrious experiments in his shorter works. But as for Herbert, well, to quote A.E. Housman out of context, 'Terence, this is stupid stuff'.Herbert's characters are just, well, cardboard compared to King's. I just didn't care for any of them. And the whole premise of the book is so absurd, especially Herbert's quasi-scientific explanations, that I couldn't help laughing at some of the things in the book. Which brings me to another problem with the book - it has no sense of humour, and is only funny by accident. The dialogue is also so stilted that I thought I was reading a bad translation into British English.That said, the book is fairly entertaining - if you can forgive the inconsistencies and other faults. I couldn't. Maybe I've grown too critical - one can't expect too much from these books, obviously. The gruesome bits of the book are at least properly blood-curdling, but, because I didn't care about the characters, I just didn't feel anxious or sympathetic. I can see why it caused a big stir back in 1975, but, honestly, it just doesn't have the impact it should. Seeing the deaths of cardboard characters is pretty much comparable to watching reams of paper going through an industrial shedder - it left me quite indifferent.I read this book because I'm interested in the history of speculative fiction. But this just goes to show that all oldies certainly aren't goodies. In Herbert's foreword to the 1988 edition, he says that he felt the temptation to 'smooth out the rougher edges, perhaps endow some of the characters with a little more depth.' He defends his choice not to by saying that 'change would be an unnecessary indulgence' on his part, and goes on to call the book 'a throwback to the fifties and much earlier', paying homage to H.G. Wells and John Wyndham. Well, that's fair enough, I guess. But it still doesn't excuse the bad writing found throughout the novel.
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