Pretty basic stuff. I think I've had my fill of Dennis Wheatly - too simplistic. I kept thinking there must be more to it - but there never was.

Dennis Wheatley is an odd writer. Vey opinionated, snobby, class conscious, and sexist - to be expected for a man of his time, ie. early 20th century. But it shows he wasn't a great man, because greatness does not develop within a consciousness that is limited to the norms of its times. Wheatley is a horror writer, a pulp writer. He gives you a good story with lots of irrelevant and poorly dramatised detail, much like Robert Jordan, and very unlike Stephen King who does this all a fair bit better.
I first read The Devil Rides Out a few years ago. I cannot recall my exact impressions on Wheatley's writing then. Devil was written in 1934 and The Ka of Gifford Hillary in 1956. The latter is definitely a tamed-down supernatural story, compared to the former. Devil did actually scare the bejesus out of me, as I recall, and I enjoyed it heaps. I love being scared. Gifford Hillary is a pleasant tale, with the odd insight into Wheatley's knowledge of the supernatural, as usual.

But, as I said, it is daft quite regularly, with many situations in which Gifford has a brief moment in which he has to pass on some vital information, yet he inevitably ruins it by rambling on about nothing and wasting the moment, eg. "Don't be frightened Daisy. I only want to talk to you. I must. it's terribly important. Please. Don't shut your mind to me as you did before"- whilst I sit here saying to my book "just fucking say it. stop jabbering". As I said, it's painful and poor form in narrative; and evidence of how him and his social ilk of that era could over-articulate themselves to the point of absurdity.
His snobbishness is also a bit unpalatable: "No doubt its furnishings resembled those of countless others, also termed lounges, that had gradually evolved from the drawing-rooms of more spacious Edwardian days; but Edith had been my only intimate contact with that section of the middle classes which is utterly devoid of taste". I don't mind this conversation on the bad taste of people. Most people have shocking taste. But it is not limited to the middle class as Wheatley likes to think. He continually contrasts the bad taste and ineptness of the "lower classes" with the good taste and steady character of the upper classes, as if to say that people with money are a more decent lot than anyone, deserve to come out on top, and are right simply because money bought them education to make them right. Well, it makes me sick to see the world depicted like this because it just ain't true - money can't buy you intellect. Like most decent people, I've had enough (with Bush and Howard) of conservative ideology to last me a lifetime. Only read this book if you are ok about such daftness and just want some light drama.