Book Five (In the Flesh), Chapter One
“In the Flesh”
As I read through this book it strikes me as being the most archetypically Barkerian, especially in relation to his later, novel-length works. The real accessibility of myth, the link between sexuality and transformation, the exploration of forbidden realms–much more so than the straight-up cruelty of, say, “The Midnight Meat Train” and “Dread,” this is the territory Barker will spend much of his later career in.
The title story of the collection introduces us to the first of Barker’s many cities on the edge of forever. The irony is that the bulk of the story takes place in a prison. Most horror authors would milk the setting for claustrophobia; Barker’s not most horror authors, obviously, and instead opts to make expanse and emptiness the source of this story’s uncanny unpleasantness. Naturally he makes physical transformation the passport to this particular city, and since he’s still getting his sea legs with the dream-city concept you can tell these grotesque metamorphoses (an extremely appropriate choice of word, I assure you) are where he’s really enjoying himself here.
He’s having fun writing this story, and it makes it a lot of fun to read–so much so that we’ll forgive him the O.-Henry-by-way-of-The-Outer-Limits ending, as a matter of fact. I mean, heck, the story even has a callback! (See the above quote–if The Books of Blood were The Dark Side of the Moon, this would be “Breathe (Reprise).”) The characters are well-drawn and likable, even (this is a relative rarity for Barker, who’s priorities usually lie elsewhere) relatable, the scenario is absorbing, and the fate of all involved is horrible, but unique. As is so often the case with The Books of Blood, the uniqueness is paramount, even to the damned.