By Brent R. Oliver
Pinhead, like Bon Jovi, kept on believing in something. And while Bon Jovi’s music is obviously far more horrific than any torture Pinhead could imagine, that’s beside the point.
Needlehead is undoubtedly one of Clive Barker’s greatest imaginings. From his introduction in the novel this Hell Walk Heartin the first few Hellraiser Movie, to his tragic end Hellraiser In the movies, he’s always been the monster that we fans can never get enough of. Even when he goes into space or becomes part of an online role-playing game.
But what if he finds that his lust for power outweighs his belief in temptation and pain? What if he gets tired of waiting for those spooky nipple pinchers to solve his weird puzzle box and jumps into Hell? In fact, what if Pinhead gets completely fed up with the shit out of Hell and decides to split the universe in two, starting from the basement?
Oh, and by the way, don’t call him “Pinhead.” It turns out he hates that name.
The Red Letter Gospel The film opens with some good old-fashioned resurrection of the dead. In reality, the dead man is a former magician named Joseph Ragowski. Needle stole Joseph’s vast magical knowledge and then killed him. After that, he hunts down the most powerful mages on Earth, stripping them of their amazing magical knowledge and creatively murdering them in the face.
The few remaining magicians put together an elaborate ritual to free Joseph from death’s clutches in case he has any bright ideas to stop the needle from killing them. You know…because Joseph did it so well the first time.
As expected, things get out of hand.
Soon after, we were introduced to Harry Damour, who The Last Vision She reluctantly specializes in the paranormal. Harry’s best friend is an old lady named Norma. Norma is blind, but she can see ghosts. She has dedicated her life to helping the confused and distressed dead find ways to move on. Of course, things are not always that simple, and she receives many strange requests from the newly dead.
Like Carston Goode, once a family man and loving husband. His determined soul needs someone to rush to New Orleans and put his house in order before his grieving wife and estate lawyer find out.
There’s really only one man up to the job. Harry D’Amour travels to New Orleans, where he stumbles upon a mourning configuration and, incidentally, discovers Pinhead. Again, things get messy, but D’Amour is a hard-nosed man, and this isn’t his first time getting involved in paranormal activity.
From that point on, it’s humanity versus hell, monks versus monks, pinheads versus everyone. Fallen angels, sins of the flesh, flawed humanity. That sort of thing.
The Red Letter Gospel is Clive Barker’s much-anticipated return to the world of pure horror. A world he infiltrated and completely took over in the 80s because he was better at it than anyone else. I’ve written before on this site about my undying, unrequited, utter love for Clive Barker. He changed me. I adore him and his work.
It’s really shocking to realize this. The Red Letter Gospel is a disappointing book. I was lucky to receive an advance review copy, as my reputation as a horror fiction critic is next to zero and I had a friend with connections. I left the book in a sacred place on my desk for days so that I could enjoy the anticipation every time I walked by. Its vibe slowly filled my office until I was in a pre-prom sexual frenzy. One night, I snuck into bed while my wife was still watching TV. I opened it and let Mr. Barker’s words slam into my face as hard as I had always wanted.
My page-turning fingers quickly lost their elasticity, and reality pushed aside the book’s awkward fantasy. This book is bland. This book is awkward. This book is sloppy. Words and phrases are repeated frequently, often in the same sentence or paragraph. The dialogue is painful to read. Harry D’Amore is bland and juvenile, with a superhuman resistance to character development. He comes across like a poorly drawn teenager, not the scathing antihero we know him to be.
The group of brave Hellstorm warriors he leads are similarly tired. None of them have a personality, a unique voice, or real depth. They’re all as shallow as a bird bath and as pale as a zombie’s toenails. I almost got tired of them the moment they were introduced, because there’s no energy or vibrancy to them.
Pinhead has more dimensions. His motivations are a little murky, but he at least changes and develops and becomes a better person than he was at the beginning. His development is not precise and sometimes I question the rationality of his actions, but his storyline moves forward steadily. That bastard has a plan.
Buck was known for his eloquence and vulgarity, which often went hand in hand. The Red Letter Gospel There is too much on one side, and not enough on the other. While the author has produced some of the most elegant, regal prose yet, the whole is hampered by clumsiness. One flourish of phrasing leaves me breathless at its craft, only to be immediately ruined by the next sentence, which plods along dully, like beating a dead horse.
Despite the somewhat heavy overall effect, there is no doubt that Barker is a wizard with the English language. For every two sentences that are clumsily, vaguely, and unaesthetically thrown together, there is always a sentence that flashes with genius. Sometimes I had to put the book aside for a few minutes to bask in the beauty he conjured out of simple words.
When it comes to obscenity, I’m usually 100 percent on board. Barker excels at weaving horrific scatology seamlessly into his stories. In his hands, the gore is glorious, the feces and semen are sublime, and the sheer profanity is poetic. No one does it better than him.
but The Red Letter Gospel It’s full of pointless filth. Occasionally, it fits in well with the storyline, but too often, it’s just off-putting. Barker spends too much time making the reader feel something disgusting that ultimately has nothing to do with the story. I certainly wasn’t offended. I don’t even know if that’s possible. But the usual art behind Barker’s profanity and irreverence was missing.
That’s my beef with the novel as a whole. Clive Barker is a damn artist. Almost everything he does, no matter how vulgar, ridiculous or vile, is meticulously polished. He hammers out the most mundane scenes with a solemn and gorgeous way. His stories and characters come to life, not just in the realm of horror, but in the realm of literature. But most of this lacks that.
The Red Letter Gospel is a fantastical journey through hell, depicted with the characteristic aplomb that I expect from Clive Barker. He has created some of the most exotic worlds, galaxies and environments I have ever experienced. Imajika, Weaving the World,Yamato Secret Show, Everville: All of them are filled with amazing details and superb craftsmanship. But The Red Letter Gospel It’s oddly featureless and punchless. It’s almost like a novella that’s been stretched to cover the entire novel.
If you’re a fan, you should definitely buy this book when it comes out on May 19. It may not have the same virtuosity you’re used to, but it deserves a place on your shelf alongside Mr Barker’s other works. At the very least, this is the life and times of Pinhead, infernal priest of the Order of the Monks, thief of earthly magic, and enslaver of spirits more powerful than you. How could you miss his final chapter?
Book here.
score: 2/5
