10 - The Devil Rides Out

For as long as I can remember, I have had an interest in the paranormal. Inspired by a book of my parents' on unsolved mysteries of the world - itself a mystery, completely incongruous with the rest of their collection - I loved being frightened and fascinated in equal measure by tales of strange creatures, alien abduction and the planet's least explored corners.

At the same time, however, I have always remained fairly sceptical in the face of such claims. Much as I would love all UFO reports to be real so we can start living in The Fifth Element already, I don't believe aliens have ever visited Earth. Sightings of ghosts, Bigfoot and the likes of the Jersey Devil are probably testament to the power of imagination. The Loch Ness Monster might just be explained by the 9ft long wels catfish that inhabit the lake. And the two theories dominating the internet in recent years, Flat Earth and the Mandela Effect, are in my opinion nothing less than proof of the collective stupidity of mankind.

As such, I have never had much interest in the occult or black magic. While some of the above phenomena are perhaps vaguely plausible, or at least have their origin in real-world happenings, hinting that there may be more to discover, black magic always seemed too far-fetched to merit serious consideration. This is probably not helped by its image as the preserve of goth teenagers in small town America with nothing better to do and the super-rich elite with, well, nothing better to do.

Dennis Wheatley's The Devil Rides Out, however, contends that not only is black magic real, it is being used at this very moment under our noses to help people with less than honourable intentions to wield immeasurable power over the world and the people in it. Or at least it was in the 1930s. Sparked by the writings of the likes of Aleister Crowley, the medium saw something of a resurgence at the time, with Hitler being probably the most notable proponent.

It was against this background that Wheatley set his hugely successful series featuring the Duc de Richleau, a set of adventures spanning the globe that deal with the occult, other worlds and mysterious forces. The second book in the series, The Devil Rides Out has all the ingredients to be a thrilling caper but ultimately falls just short.

This mainly stems from the fact that Wheatley is very, very serious about the book's basis in the occult. The result is a narrative that is less Indiana Jones and more BBC crime drama procedural. The peak of this occurs just as the novel's story is about to switch up a gear. Faced with his friend Simon Aron being used as the centrepiece of a satanic ritual, the Duc and his American sidekick Rex prepare to mount a daring rescue, driving right into the heart of the gathering and hauling Simon into his car by the passenger door. But first, Wheatley takes great care to explain every one of seemingly dozens of steps taken by the Duc to ensure protection against any dark forces. Once the escape is attempted, in the last couple of pages of the chapter, it almost feels like an afterthought. Add in theories such as Rasputin having started World War I by summoning the Horsemen of the Apocalypse and the relic of an Egyptian god holding the key to world power and we're firmly in tin foil hat territory.

And so it goes for most of the book. But the plot, equal parts burdensome and ridiculous, is at least alleviated by some entertaining writing from Wheatley. Of particular note is a chapter where the action is documented by the minute as three different plot lines unfold simultaneously, but credit is also due for the way in which he sets up a P.G. Wodehouse-style domestic scene at the book's main location at one point, only to tear it all apart moments later. The result is the book's most satisfying sequence, the tension ramping up relentlessly as the characters repel a series of increasingly bizarre attacks from the antagonist Mocata - who seems to have been inspired, at least in his physical description, by Crowley himself. And while the double-twist ending seems like something of a cop-out at first, it does serve to keep the work grounded while still hinting at something more.

Despite Wheatley's earnest assurance in the preface that all of this has been extensively researched and is representative of genuine goings on in England at the time, I have to conclude that the truth is somewhere between the two. The Duc ends the novel stating that we are far from knowing what is really out there, which I agree is true. But it's probably not quite as exciting as he, or this book, would suggest.

3.5/5

2spooky4me.

Halfway there!