Books of Blood Paperback – Jan 1 1988
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About the Author
Clive Barker was born in Liverpool in 1952. He now writes, directs and produces films in Los Angeles.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews on Amazon.com (beta)
The dead have highways and at one of these intersections sits the house at 65 Tollington Place. It looks like any other home but stay there too long and you're sure to leave much different than when you arrived. A trio of paranormal investigators are successfully documenting the goings-on of the place but more is going on than meets the eye. The young medium that secretly lusts for fame and fortune and will do whatever must be done to acquire it is keeping secrets. Secrets that are enraging the dead. His beatific smile easily wins over Mary Florescu whose life's work has been documenting paranormal events. She should know better but is overcome with desire and is blind until it's too late and the dead have their way with him. Now he's no longer beautiful and she must translate the stories the dead have written upon his skin. No one does dread and dank atmosphere like Clive Barker.
The Midnight Meat Train: Kaufman once adored the idea of New York until he lived there and saw the ugliness up close. Now New York is just another city and has lost its allure. A brutal string of murders in the subway system further sickens him in this city whose streets are awash with fresh blood.
A man thinking himself a night-stalker and taking his job seriously preys the underground in search of a body whose flesh is worthy of his skill.
Kaufman will discover he knew little of the true atrocities carried out in the city until he rides the subway one dark, lonely night . . . This story is gory, gritty and gives you something to think about.
The Yattering and Jack: This story was made into a super cheesy "Tales from the Darkside" episode. I watched it recently on the Chiller channel and am curious to see just how much they ruined the original story.
This is a surprisingly "lighter" and slightly humorous story from Barker. The Yattering is a lower devil demon ousted from Hell to torment a human named Jack Polo. He doesn't know why and is thoroughly frustrated with his inability to drive the boring human into a raving lunatic. No matter how desperately the Yattering tries to upset Polo he remains unmoved. When Polo's daughters come for a visit the Yattering ratchets up his fright-fest. There's a funny scene involving the Yattering and his genitals that I didn't see in the televised version, hmmm. . . Needless to say, in the end, Polo isn't as dense as Yattering assumes. This version, of course, was much better than the cheesy Tales from the Darkside episode.
Pig Blood Blues: This one is dark and bloody and has the sexual undertones that color much of Barkers work. Redman, a former police officer, has been hired to teach wayward adolescents at a juvenile detention center. He quickly takes pity on a youth named Lacey who is continually the victim of bullying and offers him protection. As he gets to know the boy, he tells him a bizarre tale about the farm on the property involving suicide and a hungry pig. This one is strange and haunting.
Sex, Death and Starshine: Barker never pretties up his dead. Oh sure, they may have a facade of skin over their rotting corpses but you always know what they truly are the moment they enter the story and step out of the shadows. His dead are always putrefying, raw and terrifying but they're quite often more classy than the living. I believe this is what has always drawn me to his work. This little story is about a theater's last production of Twelfth Night and the drama that ensues behind the scenes. While the temperamental theater folks are busy stabbing each other in the back over silly jealousy and pettiness some major drama is about to happen upon the scene in the form of a creepy stranger and his beautiful wife who wants the starring role.
This wasn't one of the best stories in the book but it highlights Barker's love for his dead and his knack for embodying them with a dark grace. The humans come off as vulgar and petty and lacking in morals while the dead are much more refined even though they're decaying corpses.
In The Hills, The Cities: Mick doesn't discover that his lover is an obnoxious political bigot until he's stuck with him on a trip to Yugoslavia and nearly bored to death by his tedious opinions. While Judd thinks Mick is an airhead who is content to keep his head in the clouds. It was supposed to be their honeymoon but apparently they should have spent some together before embarking on their trip. The only thing they have going for them is attraction.
But in the hills hides the greatest wonder of the world. Within the hills its citizens are preparing an ancient ceremonial battle that pits city against city. Mick and Judd who are busy bickering and traversing these endless roads haplessly stumble upon something they were never meant to see. And of course they can't look away when they should . . .
This was a very original short story, unlike anything I've read before or since, but considering what happens Barker doesn't stay focused on the gore as he easily could have but more on the reactions of the two who witness this bizarre event.
Funny, I remember this book as being shocking and horrifying and terribly gory but I didn't think it was any of those things the second time around. Guess I'm just too jaded now.
"She’d go down on him with such unalloyed enthusiasm, all he could do was watch the top of her ash-blonde head bobbing at his groin, and hope to God nobody chanced to walk into the dressing-room. She was a married woman, after all, even if she was an actress. He had a wife himself, somewhere. This tête-à-tête would make some juicy copy for one of the local rags, and here he was trying to garner a reputation as a serious-minded director; no gimmicks, no gossip; just art.
"Then, even thoughts of ambition would be dissolved on her tongue, as she played havoc with his nerve-endings. She wasn’t much of an actress, but by God she was quite a performer. Faultless technique; immaculate timing: she knew either by instinct or by rehearsal just when to pick up the rhythm and bring the whole scene to a satisfying conclusion. When she’d finished milking the moment dry, he almost wanted to applaud."
And yet, while an aura of terror encompasses all his works, Barker also instilled humour into a couple of his tales: "The Yattering and Jack", for one, could be regarded as the distant, more pernicious cousin of Wilde's "Canterville Ghost". On the other hand, "Sex, Death and Starshine" (the absolute finest piece in this collection, from which the lines above and below were copied, and in which I noted a tinge of Lovecraft's "Herbert West: Reanimator"); "Sex, Death and Starshine", then, wherein passion for the stage brings people back from the grave, somewhat reminded me of the Theatre of Blood film--I can see the part of debonair Mr. Lichfield in the following colloquy with Terrence Calloway, the director of a Shakespeare play in Barker's story, suiting Vincent Price's character in the movie to a T:
[Calloway] '...Tell me, were you ever an actor yourself?'
[Lichfield] 'What makes you think that?'
[Calloway] 'The voice.'
[Lichfield] 'Too rhetorical by half, I know. My curse, I’m afraid. I can scarcely ask for a cup of coffee without sounding like Lear in the storm.'
Classy, uh? Indeed, a flair for tickling the reader oozes from all pages of this volume.