The incantating Hill Of Dreams (Arthur Machen), in a 1920s edition with hand cut, and gold edged, pages. I like gold & silver edged pages as much as the next man.
Taylor's little blue bottle (supplied, I presume, by the mysterious country doctor, Dr Burrows) inspired wanderings first transforming his petty country town into an ancient meditteranean port, and then, in a hellishly wintry naptha and gas lit London, making fantastic the joining and interconnecting of suburb and the country: the last 20 or 30 pages of madness, suburban roads and houses twisting in and out, interrupted by and into lanes, farms, weird trees and hollows: for sure the stuff of Folk Suburb's more outlandish broken fields. And terrifying. And some of the finest writing of meadowsweet and footpaths.
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