A year ago I would have unqualifiedly deemed myself an Aickman fan. His stories stand out of any multi-author collection and work in your mind a long time after reading them. His style is graceful and perfectly poised. It is like watching a slow, perfectly choreographed dance.
When i read the collection The Unsettled Dust, certain reservations presented themselves. I felt myself tiring of the sameness of his vaguely desolate, vaguely shabby-genteel characters. I felt that if you strip away the marvellous style, pacing and insinuation, the title tale was basically a traditional ghost story. Not truly weird at all if you were to sit down and plot it out. Yet the emotional content lifts it - if only to give you a glimpse of the quiet bereftness of the vaguely desolate and vaguely shabby-genteel. The Cicerones on the other hand, although again playing from the MR James handbook of antique vectors of weirdness, is sublime in its sudden, stark cessation. I had to check if there was a missing page!
The aura of gloom and 'quiet desperation' that lingers over so many of his characters felt, to me, monotonous over the length of a collection, if not self indulgent. The fact that some of the stories could easily be mapped and shown to be variations on traditional English ghost stories disappointed me because when he does not rely on such underlying elements he wrote things like 'Stains' and 'The Swords', which will never completely fall into place in a tidy manner, and will haunt the right kind of reader the rest of their lives, possibly.
If you go beyond the basic level of being a reader who wants clarity - or not - and accept that Aickman tells us as much as he needs to, to achieve the goals he has in mind, the thread running through Aickman is of forces, powers, from the outside the moment and the familiar, and how they find some suitable but unwitting receptacle. it is presented in a far more subtle manner than this suggests - I like the fact that it is somehow something in the main characters that is attuned to the things that unsettle them so much. I think we are often drawn to the very things that challenge and oppose us, and that seems to me a recurring element in his stories, although not all.
So yes, I have a few reservations about Aickman. A part of it is another common psychological tic - I feel emotionally in sympathy with his characters and their passive desolation and I shy away from immersing myself and reinforcing that strain in myself.
And in the balance, Aickman is still one of my leading lights in the genre. I have been so fascinated by Stains and The Cicerones in particular that many of their stratagems and concerns have found their way into my own attempts at fiction. So while I cannot say I am an uncritical fan of his work, I think I find it immensely rich and that engaging with it is fascinating and stimulating.