By Allison Senecal — These Savage Shores was one of indie comics’ biggest recent critical hits, and for good reason. Creators Ram V, Sumit Kumar, Vittorio Astone, and Aditya Bidikar delivered a tensely atmospheric supernatural narrative issue after issue, and it’s stuck with readers well after the trade release. 

If you’re here, I assume it’s because you read These Savage Shores … so I won’t wax too lyrical about it or go to great lengths to recap, but whether you loved the series for its genre, its postcolonial criticism, or the quiet immortal tragedy of Bishan ... you’re also going to love the prose works below.

The Devourers by Indrapramit Das
This novel is a very obvious comp for many reasons. Bishan from These Savage Shores is a rakshasa, as is the mysterious storyteller who takes center stage here. There are other shapeshifters present, from various Western canon - Fenrir and Gevaudan are the obvious shoutouts to Norse and French werewolf lore. Takes on the concepts of immortality, love, masculinity, and loneliness play out over the course of the story. It’s queer and lyrical, riding the line between fantasy and horror, and it’s an immensely worthwhile read for the patient reader. 

The Sea is Ours: Tales from Steampunk Southeast Asia edited by Jaymee Goh and Joyce Chng
This is one of my favorite short fiction anthologies, well, ever. Herein are post-colonial reinterpretations of a traditionally very Western (specifically British - and even more specifically - Victorian British) sub-genre. There’s a very public impression of steampunk as something that involves airships and corsets and vague sprinklings about “the colonies”. It’s still a very White genre. This anthology takes those notions outside and Old Yellers them. Some of the stories are alternate timelines where the countries in question were never colonized, some are tales of magical revolution. Others are simply stories by Southeast Asian writers. The most relevant story to These Savage Shores is probably also my favorite - “The Last Aswang” by Alessa Hinlo - centered on the closest being in Filipino folklore to what we consider a vampire - this time reimagined as protectors against colonizers. 

The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette de Bodard
This also isn’t horror, but rather a post-colonial take on historical fantasy from a Vietnamese-French author. House deals largely with fallen angels (rather than vampires or werewolves), but also with France’s colonization of Vietnam and how that might bring Vietnam to France instead of just vice versa. Think dragon queens in the Seine, and curses borne of generational violence. My favorite character is easily Philippe, a “young” (immortal) Vietnamese man brought to France against his will to serve in the army. De Bodard’s science fiction is also worth a look if you enjoy this book, asking: what if Vietnam and China dominated space colonization in the future? 

Certain Dark Things by Silvia Moreno-Garcia
It feels reductive to call this Vampire: The Masquerade in Mexico City, but that’s the best fun way to describe it. This novel centers on Domingo, a young street kid, and his relationship with Atl, the scion of an ancient Aztec vampire clan. Said clan is entrenched in a drug war with a clan of shithead European vampires who are trying to move in on their territory. In this book, Mexico City itself is a living, breathing character, and Moreno-Garcia does so right with her refreshing vampire narrative. Really, I just wish there were more books set in this world. 

“The Pauper Prince and the Eucalyptus Jinn” and “Dead Lovers on Each Blade, Hung” by Usman T. Malik
I know Usman T. Malik mostly from his horror writing, but “Pauper” is a beautiful little novella about a Pakistani professor in the United States who is traveling back to Lahore to track down the basis for one of his grandfather’s stories. ”Dead Lovers” is a take on addiction as cosmic horror, in all of its slow-building inevitability. That tension-as-horror should appeal to These Savage Shores readers. Really, most of Malik’s bibliography is worthwhile reading for any horror fan, and I highly recommend all of it.
CLICK HERE to read The Pauper Prince and the Eucalyptus Jin!
CLICK HERE to read Dead Lovers on Each Blade, Hung!

The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle
Victor LaValle is one of the most active proponents for writers of color reclaiming Lovecraftian horror (Lovecraft being a virulent racist, if you still didn’t know). Black Tom is his response to one of Lovecraft’s most overtly racist and xenophobic stories, “The Horror at Red Hook”. LaValle’s new narrator, Charles Tester, gives a uniquely African-American take on 1920s New York City, something Lovecraft would never have dreamed of doing. The burgeoning anti-immigrant sentiment and racism of the era is never glossed over but Tester takes the novella by the balls and makes the story his own, even when he’s not narrating. 

“The Oiran’s Song” by Isabel Yap
This is an absolutely emotion-wrecking novellette from one of my favorite writers. Much of Yap’s work also toes the line between the fantastic and the horrific. Tragic, and very brutal - the oiran (courtesan) of the title is an immortal demon working for a Japanese military regiment, where she forms a bond with Akira, a young soldier-servant who is also frequently abused by his fellows. You can see where the story goes in all of its inevitability. Sex work, war crimes, revenge, tragic love, quiet horror - it’s all here.
CLICK HERE to read this story now!

While you’re here, check out our picks for the Best Indie Comics of 2020!

Allison buys books professionally and comics unprofessionally. You can find her chaotic neutral Twitter feed at @maliciousglee.