Author Grady Hendrix's newest book
Paperbacks From Hell hit shelves a few weeks ago. His last two
publications Horrorstör and My Best Friend’s Exorcism were terrific
and I was eager to see him tackle the world of non-fiction,
especially an area as intriguing as this.
When I first heard about this book what
struck me immediately was the outstanding concept.
It was so simple and not even something I thought I needed until
all those crazy-ass covers were paraded in front of me. I suppose it should have been no surprise that Paperbacks From Hell would be of interest to me given
the nature of this blog. I may not be the most well read individual, but the
similarities between perusing the eighties video store and the
seventies fiction bookshelves are not lost on me. But more on that
tomorrow.
Right now I’m talking about this
tremendous book. Within the first few pages, Hendrix was telling of a
novel about Nazi leprechauns (Gestapochauns!) and I was like, this is
everything I ever wanted!
Paperbacks From Hell was very well laid
out into chapters covering all the genre mainstays, including satanism,
haunted houses, creepy kids, killer animals and vampires. Hendrix
charts the history of the pulp paperback novel from Ira Levin’s
publication of Rosemary's Baby in 1967 through to Thomas Harris’ The Silence of the Lambs – whose subsequent film adaptation came right
before the horror market crash of the early nineties. Perhaps most
admirable is that it appears that Hendrix actually read the majority
of the books in this tome.
There are a list of reasons why I loved
this book, but chief among them are two. First, the presentation was
wonderful, as I guess it had to be. You can’t have a book about
colourful and provocative cover art and not deliver, but Paperbacks
From Hell over excels in this department with all manner of the brazen and
ridiculous. As Will Errickson points out in the afterword
“you may have compiled a lengthy to-read list” and he was
absolutely correct. My review notes basically turned into a wish list
by the second or third chapter.
Secondly, I really appreciated the recurring mention of British author James Herbert.
I’ve prattled on about him here many, many times largely because
despite being the most successful horror novelist in the UK, he has
never gotten his due across the pond. Within the pages of Paperbacks
From Hell, he's treated like the horror giant and pioneer he was.
Considering the amount of absolutely
bonkers stories are held within this book, it is amazing to me that
more of them weren’t adapted to the screen. Shaun Hutson’s 1982
novel Slugs was adapted by Juan Simón (of Pieces fame), but an even more nutty looking title of his called Spawn was not.
Then again, I suppose I understand. In
a film, you are limited to what you can put onscreen whereas imagination has no bounds within the pages of a book. Case in point,
take this scenario from J.N. Williamson's Brotherkind;
“Rubin unravels the conspiracy: alien greys have teamed up with the Men in Black, Bigfoot and the Mothman to seed humanity with alien/human babies. P.S., they're not aliens at all, but part of a hidden race that we used to call fairies.”
This is true insanity. And back in the day, readers couldn’t get enough of it.
“Rubin unravels the conspiracy: alien greys have teamed up with the Men in Black, Bigfoot and the Mothman to seed humanity with alien/human babies. P.S., they're not aliens at all, but part of a hidden race that we used to call fairies.”
This is true insanity. And back in the day, readers couldn’t get enough of it.
Paperbacks From Hell was a
fantastically brisk read, an even better resource and I fully
guarantee that you will have made your own list by the time you reach
the last page.
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