An (eventual) trio of professorial men (and woman) of action take on the forces left behind beneath a lake in Shea's sequal to Lovecraft's "The Colour out of Space." The remnants of that story have been gestating beneath the lake for decades, slowly becoming something both subtle and physically powerful that is now ready to openly reach out to...feed upon all life on earth? I guess? Their main opposition besides this creature? Forest rangers and late '70s/early '80s vacationing dads? Perhaps also their own alcoholism, as I can't remember the last time I've read a story in which anyone drinks as much and as continuously as these characters do (breakfast to bed, I kid you not). Its the equivalent of people chainsmoking in pre-1980s cinema.
I really love Shea's original work, including his obviously Lovecraftian influenced work. I started reading it semi-recently, thanks to Patton Oswalt's contributions to Chad Fifer and Chris Lackey's excellent podcast. Unfortunately, a lot of what makes his other work so appealing either doesn't work or is entirely absent here. Typically, he's focused on the average people in society, if not the underclasses. He portrays their lives accurately, interestingly, and with sympathy. But here, we're following upper middle (possibly even upper) class professors. It seems he's trying to merge Lovecraft's preferred, or at least most famous, scholar protagnoists ala Armitage or Dyer with his preferred man or woman of action, and it just doesn't work well. It comes across as clumsy pastiche instead of believable characters. Shea's enjoyment and understanding of the physicality of people, bodies in action and motion, is also almost always a key piece of his writing. Its here, but again, feels clumsily shoehorned into a Lovecraft story that was ostensibly about a barely percievable menace, an internal corruption that at best can be escapted from rather than a target to be fought. Setting is typically a living, breathing, complex factor in Shea's stories as well. He understands and communicates clearly the beauty of urban settings even when showing us their dirty, hidden, frequently ignored parts. Yet this story plops us down in a setting that couldn't be more rural.
I haven't yet read Shea's sequal to the Nifft the Lean stories, but I'm hoping this isn't a consistent failing when Shea attempts to work directly in the world's of others. Because coming off of his original work, this was extremely disappointing (though that cover art is on point). It seems like if he had written a straight homage to Lovecraft, or a straight Shea story that was simply inspired by Lovecraftian elements, this could have come out better than the hodgepodge of styles we ended up getting. It might have also benefitted from focus and brevity, more novella in length. Unless you're a completionist, I'd skip this one. ( )

Very enjoyable Lovecraft homage. ( )

Wenn der stellenweise sehr selbstverliebte Ton des Autors (getreu den Motto: Was weiß ich nicht alles) wäre - man könnte dieses Buch als rundum gelungen betrachten. Beantwortet es doch eine der größten offenen Fragen aus den Werken Lovecrafts: Was wurde aus der zurückgebliebenen paraisäten Kreatur unter der "verfluchten Heide" auf den Grund des Stausees Arkhams? Aber wie gesagt - ein bisschen weniger Geschwafel hätte es schon sein dürfen. ( )