The sequence with Miss Birdle and her vicious cat is unforgettable.
Fluke, the central character, is likeable, self-deprecating, and wise, and his friend Rumbo is one of Herbert’s best, liveliest creations. The authorial voice, compared to his previous books, is witty, trickster-ish, fanciful. Whoever knew grown-ups could read something so much fun?! I was probably something like 11 or 12 when, in the school library, I glanced at the Adult fiction section, instead of my home ground, Children, and saw a book cover that intrigued me with its image and the line: “The story of a man who thinks he’s a dog…or a dog who thinks he’s a man.” I had to double-check that the book wasn’t a childrens’ book after all, but it didn’t seem to be nonetheless, this idea appealed to me as much as Bambi or Treasure Island or The Hounds Of The Morrigan, so I borrowed it and read it, making Fluke the first adult book I ever read. It was my entry into the works of James Herbert, and I’m not sure I would feel the same about the man’s writing if I had started elsewhere. I think (and if you look, the clues are in his books) that he most likely had a big heart. I found the nasty, twisted author of these kinky, filthy horror adventures, the man who could fictionally castrate a young boy and throw him down a well to bleed to death, was, in person, loud, gracious, and warm. That day I felt it somehow weird to bring every one of his books to be signed, so had whittled their number down to just five favourites but on hearing this he beamed and cried, “Why? Bring ’em all! Go on, bring ’em all!” I don’t think a writer has ever made me feel more welcome, or conveyed such gratitude for the compliment I presumably paid him by enjoying his books.
I met him once at a book signing, and until he died I had hoped one day to meet him again. With incredible self-centred-ness, I find the date of his death easier to remember than the deaths of some of my loved ones: because Herbert just happened to pass away on my birthday. It’s coming up to the second anniversary of the death of James Herbert.
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