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plagued_by_visions's reviews
209 reviews
The Troop by Nick Cutter
3.0
What I never hear anyone talk about regarding this novel are the multimedia elements deployed: Articles, reports, random ephemera attached within to create a more immersive experience, which made the book all the more enjoyable, although sometimes the form can be awkward. Nonetheless, they were definitely my favorite parts.
I enjoyed the story and the body horror elements which were a great surprise (I went into this 100% blind). In the realm of characters and style (not much depth or development, although I’d say sufficient towards the end; similes galore, even for moments that were meant to be quiet and restrained, which made for some uneven patches) there were some definite misses. Overall, a solid book, with impressive relentlessness, and a dedication to the horror craft that is to be admired.
I enjoyed the story and the body horror elements which were a great surprise (I went into this 100% blind). In the realm of characters and style (not much depth or development, although I’d say sufficient towards the end; similes galore, even for moments that were meant to be quiet and restrained, which made for some uneven patches) there were some definite misses. Overall, a solid book, with impressive relentlessness, and a dedication to the horror craft that is to be admired.
Story of the Eye by Georges Bataille
3.0
I remember passing this book around in high school as the ultimate dare to my friends back in 2010. I was that shitty little teen who was into shock, gory movies, and always pushing the boundaries of the extreme and looking to gross out and scare those around me.
11 years later, I’d like to imagine I’ve matured a bit, but I still enjoy reading titles of this kind, but now to unearth the real, disquieting human weight that they all inevitably bear. I reread this book recently, and my views of it have definitely changed. This extirpation of human libido is powerful to me not just because of its copious and extremely monstrous and disgusting sex acts, but because Bataille seems to be reaching towards something truly momentous and sublime: The power of perversity, and how relentless our desires can be.
I give “3 stars” by default to works of this kind: Things I can’t necessarily recommend, but nonetheless things that have made an impact, and that are powerfully and masterfully written. Bataille, with his own personal baggage and fearsome prose, has wrought a tale so human and yet so disconnected, an indispensable inspiration for authors like Dennis Cooper and Gabrielle Wittkop. Monstrosity at its most human.
11 years later, I’d like to imagine I’ve matured a bit, but I still enjoy reading titles of this kind, but now to unearth the real, disquieting human weight that they all inevitably bear. I reread this book recently, and my views of it have definitely changed. This extirpation of human libido is powerful to me not just because of its copious and extremely monstrous and disgusting sex acts, but because Bataille seems to be reaching towards something truly momentous and sublime: The power of perversity, and how relentless our desires can be.
I give “3 stars” by default to works of this kind: Things I can’t necessarily recommend, but nonetheless things that have made an impact, and that are powerfully and masterfully written. Bataille, with his own personal baggage and fearsome prose, has wrought a tale so human and yet so disconnected, an indispensable inspiration for authors like Dennis Cooper and Gabrielle Wittkop. Monstrosity at its most human.
Slither by Edward Lee
1.0
1. Is this book good? No.
2. Did I burn through it in just a few days? Yes.
3. Did it contain any redeemable qualities? Hardly.
4. Was I thoroughly entertained? 100%.
5. Would I ever read it again? Never.
6. Do I recommend it? Absolutely.
2. Did I burn through it in just a few days? Yes.
3. Did it contain any redeemable qualities? Hardly.
4. Was I thoroughly entertained? 100%.
5. Would I ever read it again? Never.
6. Do I recommend it? Absolutely.
The Woman by Jack Ketchum, Lucky McKee
4.0
Even if ham-fisted and with a hemorrhaging heart, what we have here is a delicately-wrought microcosm of tension and perversity, constructed in a way only Ketchum could, with that precise, reporter-style prose, and a flow of horrific events that's as gripping as it is repellent.
In the way of plot, we have a clean-cut, completely average family man and lawyer, Chris Cleek, who chances upon a feral woman whom he proceeds to capture and chain in his fruit cellar in an attempt to "civilize her," as he initially explains, although his true motivations soon rear their ugly head. Yet the Woman, although immobilized and overpowered, remains a fearsome and dangerous force of nature. In fact, the Woman here is many things: an intriguing and sick plaything to Chris and his son, Brian, a repellent nuisance to Chris's wife, Belle, and a mystic, alluring, and sometimes incomprehensible symbol for Chris's older daughter, Peggy. The Woman's body becomes a receptor of unspeakable abuse, but also a mirror for society, a reflection of our most morbid and revolting conceits, and also, perhaps, a portentous signifier of liberation and "suburban apocalypse" (my favorite descriptor for Ketchum's masterpiece, The Girl Next Door).
Although one of Ketchum's last works, and co-written with director Lucky McKee, nonetheless here I see Ketchum in top form, doling out a fair share of shock, but always calculated and meaningful, and although the end escalates to almost ridiculous levels of gore and ruin, nonetheless everything is permeated with his signature essence of literary vérité that's earned him the reputation of a true horror master. The explorations of gender roles, misogyny, and perverse sexuality are admittedly one-dimensional, yet they are screamed with such agony and rage that we can't help but focus our ears.
A satisfying and even poignant conclusion to his Dead River Trilogy, The Woman is without a doubt my favorite installment of the three, an engrossing and twisted tale that's as thrilling as it is sobering, and an elevation of Ketchum's commanding storytelling into something philosophical, existential, and even life-affirming. Even with its flaws and wanton straightforwardness, here I see Ketchum's imagination at its wildest and most incisive.
In the way of plot, we have a clean-cut, completely average family man and lawyer, Chris Cleek, who chances upon a feral woman whom he proceeds to capture and chain in his fruit cellar in an attempt to "civilize her," as he initially explains, although his true motivations soon rear their ugly head. Yet the Woman, although immobilized and overpowered, remains a fearsome and dangerous force of nature. In fact, the Woman here is many things: an intriguing and sick plaything to Chris and his son, Brian, a repellent nuisance to Chris's wife, Belle, and a mystic, alluring, and sometimes incomprehensible symbol for Chris's older daughter, Peggy. The Woman's body becomes a receptor of unspeakable abuse, but also a mirror for society, a reflection of our most morbid and revolting conceits, and also, perhaps, a portentous signifier of liberation and "suburban apocalypse" (my favorite descriptor for Ketchum's masterpiece, The Girl Next Door).
Although one of Ketchum's last works, and co-written with director Lucky McKee, nonetheless here I see Ketchum in top form, doling out a fair share of shock, but always calculated and meaningful, and although the end escalates to almost ridiculous levels of gore and ruin, nonetheless everything is permeated with his signature essence of literary vérité that's earned him the reputation of a true horror master. The explorations of gender roles, misogyny, and perverse sexuality are admittedly one-dimensional, yet they are screamed with such agony and rage that we can't help but focus our ears.
A satisfying and even poignant conclusion to his Dead River Trilogy, The Woman is without a doubt my favorite installment of the three, an engrossing and twisted tale that's as thrilling as it is sobering, and an elevation of Ketchum's commanding storytelling into something philosophical, existential, and even life-affirming. Even with its flaws and wanton straightforwardness, here I see Ketchum's imagination at its wildest and most incisive.