Tales from Atlantis, Volume I

I’ll admit, I approached *Tales from Atlantis* with skepticism. Weird fiction can often feel like a museum piece—all atmosphere, no teeth. But Smith’s writing isn’t just atmospheric; it’s *visceral*. The opening story, *The Death of Malygris*, hits like a sledgehammer wrapped in silk: a necromancer’s revenge unfolds in prose so lush it borders on overwhelming, yet Gallant’s delivery keeps it from tipping into self-parody. His voice has this eerie duality—warm enough to draw you in, but with a metallic edge that makes the horrors feel immediate. When he intones the ‘hollow, sepulchral vibrations’ of a spell, you *hear* the echoes. It’s a masterclass in how narration can elevate already-rich text. That said, this won’t be for everyone. Smith’s dialogue is deliberately stilted, a pastiche of biblical cadence and Lovecraftian bombast, which Gallant commits to fully—sometimes to the point where it feels like listening to a stage play from another dimension. And while the brevity is a strength, the abrupt ending of the volume (it’s clearly part of a series) left me wanting more closure. The production is clean, though I wished for a touch more dynamic range in the quieter moments—some of the whispered incantations get lost if you’re not wearing headphones. Still, for fans of linguistic horror or those who crave fantasy that feels *ancient* rather than medieval, this is a gem. Just don’t expect to multitask while listening; Smith’s Atlantis demands your full surrender.