Ogre By Mark Ronson

Ogre
By Mark Ronson
1980 Hamlyn
Paperback, 198 pages

 

 

    Forget Shrek and all of that fairy-tale ogre bullshit. This ogre is a massive blob with reaching tentacles that would eat that green goofball and never look back. This is actually a Celtic wormlike deity called the Ooga but the folks involved call it the ogre so they won’t sound quite so stupid.

    Richard Finlay moves from the city into the rural farmhouse in Cumbria that he inherited from his all-but-unknown relative. Why does this happen so often in horror fiction, yet it still has never happened to me? Anyway, the townsfolk hate him, and a kid went missing on his property so he’s not the most welcome resident. There’s also a serial killer on the loose in that part of the country. Finlay and his hot houseguest Patricia have to endure a home invasion scene straight out of Sam Peckinpah’s film Straw Dogs (1971), complete with throwing boiling water onto the drunken villagers.

    Like in Mark Ronson’s (New Zealand author Mark Alexander) previous two horror novels and the subsequent one, an ancient evil is unleashed by way of modern means. This time around, a pipeline being laid through Finlay’s property opens up the mineshaft that the giant blob was preserved in. The ogre itself is a fun beastie, similar in form and action to the aquatic blob in Ruby Jean Jensen’s The Lake (1983), with little tentacles reaching from the ever-changing main blob. As with all good blobs, the more it eats, the bigger it gets.

    The book slowed down a bit for me at around the three-quarter mark when scientists and ministry members set up shop in the Findlay house (because they finally believe the people who say they have seen the ogre). No problem, though, as every time the ogre shows up, fun happens. The characters are pretty basic, a few affectations but otherwise straightforward cookie-cutter folks, but the story moves quickly and pulls you in, even if most of it has been done before and since. I liked Ronson’s Plague Pit from the following year a bit more, but this one is good, and I heartily recommend it. The Hamlyn paperback has a nice gnarly cover of a mannequin head covered in green gunk that looks like it might be a photograph.