Mapping the Terrain of Used and Rare Books
People are romanticizing vampires. It all started with Bram Stoker, and then much later Anne Rice, and in the past three decades (even more so today!) it has been a circus of sexy vampires and sexy vampire hunters, sexy dubious lovers of vampires, sometimes a combination all of the above, and more.
Vampires have become romantic, erotic. Even heroic.
They are not. They are pale swift-moving monsters of folklore that will bite your penis off and feed on the blood from its stub in a secluded, dirty restroom-stall in a public park at night. This actually happens.
Simon Clark writes a haunting novel that is more atmosphere and character than vampire, but when the vampires do appear they are nothing but what they are. Monsters. Waiting in the dark to eat flesh, to drink blood. No 16 year old girl would buy this novel and think – “Hmmmmm…. I’d date this Vampire…..” It would be like dating a scarred and disfigured rabid tom-cat that is six times stronger than you and very hungry.
This book contains mythology. It contains a mysterious and suspicious VHS tape that circulates shifting horror. It contains iron-bars sealing underground labyrinths. It contains characters that are adeptly moved through the novel, breaking our most thought-out anticipations of what and who they were/ are. . .
In a world inundated with sexy hipster vampires, this book brings back what vampires really are –
Again – Monsters.
And they don’t give a shit about garlic or crucifixes. They live in the sewers and eat rodents, wishing the rodents were people.
Take that thing, Charlanie Harris, and make it a chic owner of a night-club. (Though your books are, actually, very good.)