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Lead: A Bold Fusion of Realism and HorrorClaire Fuller returns with Hunger and Thirst, a novel that fuses the gritty texture of social realism with the unsettling atmosphere of gothic horror. Set in 1987, the story follows Ursula, a young woman haunted by the deaths of her mother and a later, more sinister companion, while the narrative oscillates between documentary‑style observation and nightmarish spectacle.Fuller Blends Social Realism with Gothic Horror in 'Hunger and Thirst'The novel opens with Ursula’s traumatic childhood—spending two days trapped in a Moroccan bathroom by her mother’s corpse after a dengue fever death. By sixteen, she drifts through seven children’s homes before landing a postroom job at Winchester School of Art, where she meets the volatile Sue and her boyfriend Vince. Their obsession with horror films like The Shining and The Stepford Wives steers the plot toward a derelict house, the Underwood, where a seance and a reenactment of a past murder blur the line between art and atrocity. Fuller’s prose captures the “porousness” of identity, as characters literally and figuratively inhabit each other’s bodies.Publication Details and PricingPublisher: Fig TreeRelease price: £18.99Publication year: 2026Previous award: Fuller’s 2021 Costa‑winning Unsettled GroundSocial Critique of Thatcher‑Era Care System Through HorrorThe novel uses its horror framework to expose the under‑resourced British care system of the 1980s, a period when Thatcher’s government prioritized nuclear families over community support. Ursula’s movement between children’s homes and a “halfway house” populated by addicts and ex‑prisoners illustrates the systemic neglect that left many youths adrift. By juxtaposing this social critique with visceral horror, Fuller argues that the genre can convey truths about societal failure more starkly than conventional realism.Potential Legacy and Reader ReceptionFuller’s “outrageous aesthetic gamble” may set a new benchmark for literary horror that does not sacrifice social urgency. If readers and critics embrace the novel’s dual narrative—documentary‑style observation paired with gothic terror—it could inspire a wave of fiction that treats horror as a vehicle for political commentary. The book’s blend of “intense feeling” and “intimate portrayal” positions it as a contender for future literary awards and a touchstone for authors exploring the intersection of genre and social critique.

The Gothic Horror Revival with a Psychedemic TwistWill Maclean's "Solace House" emerges as a bold entry in contemporary gothic horror, blending traditional supernatural elements with psychedelic storytelling. The novel transports readers to the summer of 1993, where protagonist Alex Lane finds himself working at an abandoned asylum called Marshlands, located next to the enigmatic Solace House—a gothic mansion filled with secrets and supernatural occurrences.A Cast of Characters in a Supernatural SettingThe narrative introduces a diverse group of university students tasked with clearing out the asylum: the lonely Alex, the sinister pale boy Adam, and various archetypal characters including the Christian Helen, the stoned Clive, the goth Ruth, the new-age Leo, the beautiful Malcolm, and the bewitching red-haired Ella. Against the backdrop of cheap wine, joint-smoking, and pretentious banter, the group begins to uncover the dark mysteries of Solace House and its former occupant, the reclusive poet Edwin Flayne.Supernatural Elements and Narrative StructureSolace House is portrayed as a "thin place" where supernatural forces bleed into reality. Flayne, who lived to 102 without leaving the house, pursued dark mathematics and magic in his quest for forbidden knowledge. The novel incorporates numerous gothic tropes: a hedge maze, ancient caverns, mysterious telephones, and a labyrinthine interior filled with hoarded artifacts. As the narrative progresses, reality becomes increasingly unstable, leading the characters to consume psychedelic mushrooms and confront the boundaries between dimensions.Literary Influences and ComparisonsMaclean's work draws from a rich tapestry of literary influences. The reviewer compares "Solace House" to TV's "True Detective" while acknowledging the foundational influences of Arthur Machen, Charles Williams, and HP Lovecraft. Other discernible references include Donna Tartt's "The Secret History," Mark Z. Danielewski's "House of Leaves," and Lucy Boston's "The Children of Green Knowe." The novel also shares occult territory with Francis Spufford's "Nonesuch," creating a rich intertextual tapestry that honors its influences while carving out its own identity.Pacing and Narrative ApproachOne of the novel's strengths is its pacing. The 500-plus pages "whip by" as Maclean balances supernatural horror with character development and occasional dark humor. The book opens with a self-aware acknowledgment that "gothic always tries too hard," suggesting a meta-awareness of the genre's conventions. This self-deprecating tone permeates the narrative, creating an engaging reading experience that doesn't take itself too seriously despite its ambitious supernatural scope.Assessment and Critical ReceptionWhile the reviewer praises "Solace House" for its entertainment value and ability to "spook the reader," they note some narrative shortcomings. The novel is described as "a bit overstuffed," particularly in its attempts to convey "ineffable mind-mangling realms beyond time, space and puny human comprehension." However, the reviewer suggests this excess is somewhat inherent to the genre itself. Despite these minor criticisms, the book earns high marks for its clever and satisfying twist ending that even makes sense of Edwin Flayne's "terrible poetry," providing narrative cohesion to the sprawling supernatural tale.

The usual visual language of hospital dramas relies on sterile whites and bright fluorescents. ‘What I’m Here For’ discards that palette entirely, immersing the audience in a world of black costumes and shadow‑filled set pieces.This daring aesthetic is the result of a collaboration between Vanishing Point of Glasgow and Teater Katapult from Aarhus, Denmark. Designer Mai Katsume outfits nurses, doctors and patients in deep black, arranging them in stark rows that dominate an ominously dark stage.At the centre stands Lærke Schjærff Engelbrecht as Flora, a nurse forced onto an extra weekend shift because of chronic short‑staffing. Even the flickering strip lights beneath her feet are cloaked in darkness, a visual choice amplified by Simon Wilkinson’s austere lighting design that drains the scene of any residual warmth, turning a hectic night ward into a gothic horror tableau.Written by Josephine Eusebius and performed in a blend of Danish and English, the script follows a familiar premise—too many patients, too few staff—but pushes it to a psychological extreme. Flora cheerfully repeats the hospital‑as‑hotel mantra while confronting impossible choices, such as whether to prioritize a pleasant woman with a brain tumour in room 22 or a demanding lady with a heart condition in room 33.The tension is heightened by Mark Melville’s pulse‑driven soundtrack, a low‑frequency thrum that underscores Flora’s isolation. As in many of director Matthew Lenton’s productions, the protagonist is both integral to and alienated from the medical team, a duality made palpable by her physical separation from the other actors and their disembodied commentary.Throughout the performance, Flora remains downstage, engaging in dream‑like exchanges with colleagues whose looming presence becomes as oppressive as the life‑and‑death decisions she must make. The staging forces the audience to feel the weight of each moral dilemma, turning routine triage into an almost tactile nightmare.‘What I’m Here For’ runs at the Tron in Glasgow until 4 April and will tour to other venues until 18 April.

When Resident Evil emerged in the mid-1990s, it stood in stark contrast to the prevailing gaming landscape. The PlayStation and Saturn consoles were dominated by bright, arcade-style games like Daytona and Tekken, while Japanese publisher Capcom was primarily known for Street Fighter and Mega Man sequels. Scary games were rare at the time and mostly confined to the PC, making Capcom's horror title Biohazard (the Japanese name for the series) a radical departure that caught the attention of games journalists.Three decades later, the series has not only survived but flourished, becoming one of gaming's most successful franchises. Resident Evil has sold more than 180 million copies worldwide, with 11 core titles, numerous spinoffs and remakes, plus extensive film, television, and anime tie-ins. Its characters and monsters have become cultural icons, with its design tropes now embedded in gaming practice.The origins of Resident Evil can be traced back to 1989's Sweet Home, a Capcom role-playing game for the Famicom (Japanese NES). The game featured a group of filmmakers searching a haunted mansion for valuable artifacts, and while it was a modest domestic success, it never received an international release. However, senior producer Tokuro Fujiwara couldn't let go of his vision for horror as a distinct game genre."We have Tokuro Fujiwara to thank for the existence of Resident Evil," says Alex Aniel, author of acclaimed Resident Evil history book Itchy, Tasty. "He directed Sweet Home having believed that horror could become its own game genre, but wasn't satisfied with its rudimentary portrayal. He wanted to give horror another try once the technology was there to allow it – that opportunity finally arrived with the release of the original PlayStation."In 1993, young producer Shinji Mikami was brought in to oversee a horror game project inspired by Sweet Home. He expanded the haunted mansion concept, drawing influence from George A Romero's Dead trilogy and Alone in the Dark, creating a world haunted not by ghouls but by zombies, mutants, and monsters. The heroes were an experienced SWAT team investigating disappearances at a rural mansion owned by the sinister scientific organization: Umbrella Corp.The original vision for full real-time 3D visuals proved too ambitious for PlayStation hardware, leading Mikami and programmer Yasuhiro Anpo to develop a compromise: 3D characters combined with prerendered 2D backgrounds viewed from fixed camera angles. This restricted, expressionistic style emphasized the intense claustrophobia of the environment, with information always kept from the player by blind corners and shadowy doorways.This combination of tension, omission, and restriction is fundamental to Resident Evil's success as a horror franchise. Even as the camera evolved to over-the-shoulder views and first-person perspectives, characters remained vulnerable. Ammo, save points, and health items are jealously rationed, with extremely restricted inventories. This approach makes Resident Evil operate more like classic horror literature than a typical power fantasy video game.The series has also expertly referenced horror conventions while paying homage to its inspirations. "Kamiya's biggest source of inspiration came from Alien and especially its sequel, Aliens," says Aniel of Hideki Kamiya, who directed Resident Evil 2 and Resident Evil Zero. "For example, in Resident Evil 2, humans infected with the G-virus grow a parasite that eventually ruptures their host and emerges from within, growing into deadly creatures."Resident Evil has also demonstrated remarkable versatility in exploring different horror genres – gothic horror in its mansions and monstrous enemies, sci-fi horror in its biological experiments, and folk horror in its sinister villages and religious cults. This comprehensive approach allows it to mirror societal fears, a point underscored by the COVID-19 pandemic."The Covid pandemic reminded us just how real our fear of viruses should be," says Bernard Perron, professor of cinema and video games at the University of Montreal. "In that sense, the fear of a corrupt corporation like Umbrella, along with mad scientists who do not necessarily have humanity's best interests at heart, continues to resonate. These anxieties remain deeply embedded in our posthumanist societies."Throughout its evolution, Resident Evil has maintained a balance between familiarity and innovation. Characters like Jill Valentine, Claire Redfield, and Leon Kennedy provide continuity – relatable but cool figures who spout wry jokes like Hollywood heroes. Meanwhile, charismatic antagonists such as Albert Wesker, Lord Osmund Saddler, and Lady Dimitrescu ensure consistent engagement.The series also excels in pacing and structure, carefully delineating between exploration, puzzle-solving, and combat sections. Locations are filled with beautiful details – lavish furniture, eerie oil paintings, ornate gardens – making exploration pleasurable. After intense battles, players can retreat to safe spaces like Save Rooms, creating a rhythm that prevents fatigue."The series offers deep and entertaining gameplay experiences, but with a very low barrier to entry, even for newcomers," says Aniel. "The Resident Evil games are more accessible than ever: since they are often on sale, they are affordable even for customers in emerging global markets, available on every major game platform."Ultimately, Resident Evil's longevity stems from its ability to create uncertainty while maintaining familiarity. "You know what you will get, but you also don't know," the article concludes. "Around every corner there could be a shock or there could be nothing – it's the uncertainty that gets you. It allows us to write in our own fears and anxieties, or to discover new ones we hadn't considered or acknowledged. Like all great horror fiction, Resident Evil has survived because it looks us right in the eye and says, I know what scares you. Come and see."