Brian Lumley has always had excellent taste in literature. His work brought the proto-genre "weird tale" of the early 21st century into its later decades with modern cinematic flourishes. By 1980, Robert E. Howard and H. P. Lovecraft had been influencing him for decades. With an excellent understanding of pulp fiction in place, he blasted his way through page-after-page of super high-energy (bordering on spastic), gritty archaeological fantasy/sword and sorcery in Khai of Khem. The story seems to be something of a fever dream, with its introductory chapters thrown out almost immediately as what seems to be a different story is developed. The misdirection and time-hopping eventually reconcile, leaving a lasting taste of moments out-of-time and a long-lost world history.
For all the merits of modernizing the pulp weird tale, Lumley's upping of the the grittiness-factor for the grit-heavy 80s makes for some uncomfortable and unnecessary moments. There's some pretty vile stuff - some rape scenes that I really could have done without - which seem more like the author expurgating forbidden thoughts than devices used to say something about the characters or human condition. Suggestiveness and hinting (which all Arkham house alumni learned at one point) are out the window in favor of anatomical terms and graphic descriptions. Rape, sex and violence seem to happen constantly and interchangeably, so that the scenes that I -think- were meant to be sexy made me weary and sick. Certainly, coercing someone's emotions like this should be for some purpose other than cheap adrenaline shots? I know there's a subset of horror readers who eat flat, graphic sexual brutality for breakfast, but I am not a member of this group. If someone is going to screw with my head, it better be for a reason.