The Scarlet Gospels

I saw another reviewer say something to the effect of, if they had not read other Clive Barker stories and were not already a fan of his work, they might actually have enjoyed this, and I think that's a pretty accurate statement. I went into this with some pretty significant expectations, more concerning D'Amour and world building than concerning Pinhead if I am honest, and this was a big let down. It feels more like a generic pulp horror/urban fantasy than anything from the author of the Books of Blood or Imajica. I feel like there's some reaching for grand scope and depth, but if falls flat coming across as trite. The characterization is weak, most of the characters feeling shallow and disposable (even the ones we already know from previous works). There is little of either a sense of horror or wonder to this, feeling more like an adventure novel than anything. I almost put it down and didn't finish it, more than once.

While this book was a page-turner and a nice return to form for Clive Barker, it’s a little light on plot and characterization.

The story brings together Barker’s occult detective character Harry D’Amour (probably most famous in his film incarnation, played by Scott Bakula in Lord of Illusions) and the demonic Hell Priest Pinhead, who was briefly introduced in the novella The Hellbound Heart and made famous in the Hellraiser movies. More interested in the human world than his colleagues, Pinhead arranges things so that Harry has no choice but to serve as Pinhead’s “witness” as the Cenobite enacts his master plan for Hell.

It was a bit of a disappointment seeing Pinhead reduced to a demon of middling influence in the Judeo-Christian Hell rather than a more dominating figure from the more enigmatic realm in the original novella and films. That being said, Pinhead is every bit as imposing as fans of the character would hope. The geography and politics of Hell are also intriguing and mysterious, if a bit under-explained.

It was nice seeing Harry again, but the friends that join him on his journey into the underworld could have been fleshed out a bit more. Their banter and flirtations could’ve had a bit more weight if they had a bit more development beyond “tall gay tattoo artist,” “heavily tattooed aggressive woman,” etc.

I enjoyed Barker’s gruesome prose. A lot of his more recent work has been in the Young Adult genre or straying towards lightly supernatural lit flick, but there’s plenty of old-fashioned Barker blood-letting in this story. There’s also a lot of beautiful and evocative scenes, another Barker specialty.

This book could have been much more—apparently the manuscript was edited down quite a bit—but it was still nice glimpsing Barker returning to his beloved characters.

Though hardcore fans of the Hellraiser film series may not like the direction Barker takes one of horror's most recognizable icons, on its own The Scarlet Gospels is an enjoyably frenzied trek across the landscapes of Hell itself.

This book is, in a word, ridiculous.

I was a fan of Barker back in the day. In the early nineties, I couldn't get enough of the new, darker wave of horror, and Barker was the poster boy for this particular brand. I still remember the terrible covers of the Books of Blood, gummy worms on plastic masks... but the stories haunted. In the Hills, the Cities remains in my subconscious.

So I was quite pleased to hear that he was returning to the horror world with this long -awaited book. So imagine my disappointment when I found the amateurish, pointless writing within.

There are a lot of things I could look at: the needless characters, the bizarre metaphysics, the pathetic attempts at humor... but let's talk about the wordcraft.

Clive Barker has been a professional writer for decades. He's got experience, and some talent. So why the hell is he writing sentences like :

As the water poured over him, Harry imagined that it cleaned him not only of his body’s naturally collected oils but also of the events of the past few days.

"Naturally collected oils. " such elegant writing!

or:

"Do not bother to run, Harry D’Amour,” said the Cenobite, releasing Harry from the chain’s grip. “For there is nowhere to go."

or

" Your modesty nauseates me. Be boastful while you have the breath for it. You are Harry D’Amour: private investigator, scourge of Hell."

or my favorite:

"The stomach of one had been hooked and hauled up through his throat; the face of another was emerging from his butt hole like a prodigious bowel movement."

Such cliche!

It's ugly. It's riddled with stupid adverbs ("the door was severely locked"?!) and there is a character whose sole means of communication seems to be dick jokes.

On the whole, it reads like Clive Barker fanfiction. Harry D'Amour meets Pinhead! (But don't use that name! it's stupid and insulting but everyone uses it so oh well...) There is no real plot, just a string of events that have no reason to happen and a word insistence on specific details (it took Harry less than ten seconds to pick a lock, it was four steps from the door to another room, pinhead cut the legs off seven demons at once, etc.).

It's not unreadable, hence the 2nd star, but it's not good. It's barely mediocre. And coming from the one time dark prince of horror, that's pretty bad.