"Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" by Alvin Schwartz is a spooky addition to his renowned collection of American folklore. Filled with tales of eerie horror and dark revenge, it promises to make readers jump with fright. However, as I delved into this anthology, I found myself torn between nostalgia and disappointment.

The book offers a diverse range of stories, from restless skeletons with torn and tangled flesh to vengeful ghosts seeking retribution and haunted houses with gruesome nightly surprises. This assortment promises something for everyone, catering to different tastes in horror. Yet, while the potential for spine-tingling tales is apparent, the actual execution leaves much to be desired.

One of the highlights of "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" is Stephen Gammell's artwork. His creepy illustrations perfectly encapsulate the eerie mood of the stories, adding a layer of chilling visual detail to the narratives. The nightmarish quality of Gammell's drawings is undeniable, and they do contribute significantly to the book's unsettling atmosphere.

However, the storytelling itself falls short of expectations. The tales presented in this collection often feel disjointed, resembling the kind of stories young children might concoct with no clear ending or logical sense. While this may evoke nostalgia for some readers, it can also be frustrating for those seeking well-crafted narratives. The absence of cohesive storytelling in some of these tales detracts from the overall impact of the book.

As a reader, I couldn't help but feel that "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" may have held greater appeal for a younger audience. The stories, with their simple, almost childlike structures, may indeed have been better suited for kids. However, this disconnect between storytelling style and the implied audience can leave adult readers feeling somewhat unsatisfied.

"Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" offers a mixed experience. Stephen Gammell's nightmarish illustrations provide genuine nightmare fuel, but they can't fully compensate for the book's shortcomings in storytelling. While it may evoke a sense of nostalgia for those who remember their childhood tales, it might leave adult readers yearning for more substantial and well-crafted narratives. This book has its moments of eerie delight, but it falls short of the spine-tingling masterpiece it could have been. ( )

What a delightful series!

I have never read books quite like these: they are collections of stories, but they're also celebrations of stories and of storytelling. Some of them include notes on how to tell them, orally, to a group of friends. Some of them include instructions for necessary props. This is folklore at its finest: memorable, spooky, silly, atmospheric. Poems and songs—complete with musical notation—help paint a more complete picture of these folkloric traditions. Creepy illustrations are icing on the cake.

Best of all, Schwartz includes excellent notes on the tales, their histories, and their variants. He cites the books from which he adapted them, and overall, he does a fantastic job of making a potentially dry explanation interesting for children.

Please note:
I enjoyed these books as a kid and binge-read the whole trilogy as a grownup. Consequently, I'm not confident in my ability to review the three volumes separately. Schwartz maintained such a high standard of quality throughout the series, and the tone of each book closely matches the others. Please consider this review as covering all three books. ( )

Four stars of nostalgia. The first book in this series, "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" review I wrote applies here, too. ( )

A collection of concise stories perfect for kids (or adults) who have a short attention span. These stories aren't as creepy as the ones in Short & Shivery: Thirty Chilling Tales. The illustrations, on the other hand, are super creepy! ( )

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