One start. One glorious, glittering star.

There are bad writers.
There are bad books.
We all know and fear them: shallow, inconsistent plot, flat writing, unrelatable characters, character development absent or unbelievable. Uff.
Then, once in a Pope's death, as they say in my town, one stumbles upon bad writing pushed to the limits of the sublime.
If there is a firmament of the awful novelists, this Herbert guy shines there, next constellation to Giorgio Faletti, in the same hemisphere with the best of the worst of Thomas Harris (I am thinking Hannibal, here. He must have been on something nasty while writing that one, thanks to God for the laughs).
Plot? At the service of the manly man, intent in saving Britain from fog, madness and unmanliness.
Character development? Who needs it? Our manly man needs not changing a iota of his musky self. Women around him, on the other hand, being helpless and evidently dim-witted cannot develop by God's decree, if not in the nature of their adoration for the manly one: submissively erotic while young and desirable, maternal as soon as they start, ahem, wilting. Then, and only then, are they allowed to become intellectually gifted.
Even the Government with its Secret Departments cannot but capitulate in front of such a critical mass of testosterone and entrust him, and only him, with saving the world. Because any civilian who happens to be the only survivor immune to the effects of the fog would be left free to come and go from a secret government facility and asked to risk his life, just him, to get a sample of the evil mist. And why wouldn't they, my friends, why wouldn't they.
Style? Who needs style, when we can have body horror aplenty, the triumph of TELL WHAT YOU WANT BUT JAYSUS, NEVER SHOW, and possibly the purplest, most off-putting sex scenes ever written? Also: a bunch of possessed schoolboys lynching an ecstatic gay teacher (because gay and pedophiles are one, in Herbert's Little Britain); lesbian sex imagined by a countryside provost, and remember that lesbians will regret their mistake; and an impressive mass suicide scene.
Absolutely advised, for All the Wrong Reasons!
I will leave here some gold nuggets as soon as I can get a copy back from the library. ( )

The Fog was first published back in 1975 and even now, almost 50 years on it still stands the test of time, still highly relevant in todays horror genre, by an author who’s name will forever be cemented into one of the worlds top horror novelist’s.

As a large crack opens up the earth in an English town a deadly fog rises out of the fissure. Could it be vaporous cloud released from the earth itself or what else could it be? Is it something to do with the army who are based close to the rupture of the ground? It can’t have been an earthquake, not of that magnitude in England can it?

John Holman works for the same government as the army but he is working for the Department of the Environment, to investigate anything from polluted rivers to outbreaks of disease. Some might say that because of his job he was in the right place at the right time, but his encounter with the ground cracking open was not exactly fortuitous for John!

His car nosedives into the crack but he manages to escape the deep drop into the void, even managing to save a little girl at the same time.

That was his first encounter and exposure to this mysterious fog and from there on in, nothing will ever be the same again!

If you have read any of James Hurbet’s books before then you will know what you are letting yourself in for, however if you haven’t, be warned, this book is fairly graphic!

This is one of my all time favourite books of his books and he is a master storyteller who was ahead of his time with his tales of terror.

All horror fans should read at least one of his books in their lifetime and this one is a great introduction of his work. ( )

Drags a bit at times otherwise okay for this type of post-apocalypse thriller. This edition contained two Herbert short stories that were decent. ( )

This one was a little disappointing for me. I was expecting an element of the supernatural, but discovered that was not to be. I like James Herbert. I've read and enjoyed a few of his novels, but this whole 'The government did it' kind of vibe really just makes me sigh, and then wish I'd chosen something else to read instead.

Look, it was good for what it was. It was a good story revolving around a strange fog that is released due to the army performing underground explosive tests. There is no supernatural element to it at all, unless you count the fact that it seems at times to be actively hiding from it's pursuers. If you like your horror with limited mystery to it then you'll probably enjoy this. If however you prefer a little more of the unknown then I'd give this a miss. ( )

Bought in Bournemouth while on holiday, when I was 13. Fantastic, scary stuff. ( )