BOOK REVIEW: Book of the Dead: The Complete History of Zombie Cinema by Jamie Russell (2005 Fab Press / 319pgs.)

Review by Scott Lefebvre

     I was given a couple of Fab Press books to read by a friend of mine from college.
     For those of you that don’t know yet, Fab Press pretty much is and has been THE premiere publisher and distributor of well-researched, well-written genre-specific books about film.
     In addition to publishing over-arching genre readers, they publish books on the body of work of specific directors and actors.
     I’ve read many of their books and none of them have been a disappointment and Book of the Dead: The Complete History of Zombie Cinema is no exception.
     Let’s get the minor issues out of the way first.

     As with any book that claims to be “complete” or “comprehensive”, it’s not.   Unless you’re writing about a genre or actor or director that is deceased you can only do your best job to represent the topic to the best of one’s ability and it is understandably difficult when attempting to write a comprehensive guide to a genre as proliferate as the genre of “Zombie Cinema”.
     So the book isn’t “complete” or “comprehensive” but it’s damn close, and you can see “complete” or “comprehensive” from where it’s standing if you look real close and squint real hard which is good enough for me.   As a frequent reader of this type of book I can attest that part of the secret pleasure in reading these books for genre film fans is to notice omissions.   As an author I have to say to anyone that has a problem with a few minor omissions to go out and try to write a better book and see how many omissions you make.

     Now that we’ve got that minor complaint out of the way…

     The book begins with an introduction/overview of the history of and the evolution of the concept of the zombie.   The introduction is thoroughly if not over-researched and if you ever wanted to know about the history of where the idea of the zombie came from, the introduction alone is worth the price of admission.
     The rest of the book is structured loosely chronologically with subchapters focusing on different sub-classifications such as directors or national movements in zombie cinema.   As one would expect there’s extensive coverage of the zombie films of George Romero and Lucio Fulci and the other Italian zombie movie makers, but the real interest for enthusiasts of zombie cinema are the comprehensive write-ups of the relatively obscure areas of zombie cinema like the early black & white “Poverty Row” features and the loose minutia of Asian zombie movie knock-offs.   Although I was sort of surprised there wasn’t any mention of the “Romero Re-kill Squad” in Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies despite the author mentioning the “Bruce Campbell’s Right Hand” commercial.   But remember what I said about omissions?
     One of my favorite features of a book of this type is the Filmography at the end of the book.   I know that in these modern times of the internet it’s all too easy to search the Internet Move Database and search for “Zombie Movies” and be served up a dozen lists of recommendations, but if you think that this book was subjective and prone to omissions, then wait till you’ve checked out a few IMDB lists.
     What I like to do with these back-of-the-book filmographies is to use them as a checklist and in these modern times of global connectivity and rampant digital media sharing it’s easier than ever for fans of any given genre to be able to watch every film from that given genre if they have the internet, the time, the intestinal fortitude, and the determination to do so.
     So although there are plenty of websites and books that may offer what is, in their opinion, a definitive list of zombie-films worth watching, this book, obviously up until its publication date in 2005, is the real deal.   I don’t usually do a number scale recommendation but if I did, this would be a solid 8 out of 10 and definitely a must-have for the bookshelf of any zombie film enthusiast both entry-level and hardcore fans.

     You can find this book and many other Quality Cinema Publications, DVDs, Blu-rays, Soundtracks and T-Shirts at: http://www.fabpress.com/

BOOK REVIEW: Unruly Pleasures: The Cult Film and Its Critics edited by Xavier Mendik and Graham Harper (2000 Fab Press / 255 pages.)

Review by Scott Lefebvre

     I was given a couple of genre readers by a friend from college that majored in Film and, of course, now works as an insurance salesman.
     I didn’t anticipate reading Unruly Pleasures: The Cult Film and Its Critics for review purposes so I knocked it out a few pages at a time whilst sequestered in my fortress of solitude.
     Unruly Pleasures: The Cult Film and Its Critics is a collection of essays on cult films and is by no means comprehensive.   The inverse is true.   Unruly Pleasures: The Cult Film and Its Critics is rather exclusive in its selections.   If you’re looking for a comprehensive overview of cult films, locate, acquire and read Midnight Movies by J. Hoberman & Jonathan Rosenbaum.   I’ll wait here while you do.
     Alright, now that you’ve read pretty much the best book about cult films ever written, maybe you want to read more about cult films.   If so, then Unruly Pleasures: The Cult Film and Its Critics is probably a great place for you to continue your readings.   This collection of essays contains essays written by extensively published professors of film and media who have all written several books on film criticism and film theory both genre specific and general, so the critical terminology used can be a bit challenging unless you’ve familiarized yourself with film theory by taking a college-level “Introduction to Film Studies” or at least read the textbook for one of those classes so, again, I’ll wait patiently while you track one down and absorb the contents.
     Alright, now that you’ve got a foundation in cult film and a foundation in film theory, and you know the difference between “diegetic” and “non-diegetic” we can proceed.
     The essays in the book at first glance don’t seem to have any kind of cohesive relationship, and even after reading the book, the essays seem to only share the common qualities of addressing cult films and their enthusiasts using advanced critical theories by professors with advanced degrees and teaching positions in film studies, which may have been the intention of the editors, but from personal experience it makes for a bumpy read.   Jumping from “The Dynamics of Squirting: Female Ejaculation and Lactation in Hardcore Film” to an essay about the interpolative inter-relationship between violence and the cult of individuality in reality television and violence and the cult of individuality as used critically and for entertainment purposes in the film Rollerball (1975) is a bit of a jump if you’re trying to read the book straight through.   The same can be said about the cognitive distance between the essay on fandom for The Exorcist (1975) and the essay about objectification, depersonalization, and the commodification of women and the reclamation of the selfhood of women through assertive action through the medium of exotic dancing in Paul Verhoeven's Showgirls (1995).   Both are examples of a pretty wide gap to bridge in referential frames if you read them one after the other.
     Another problem with the essays is that they focus almost exclusively on critical film theory which is excellent if that’s the kind of thing that you’re into.   It’s not that I don’t understand critical film theory.   I have a degree in psychology with course study in film theory, philosophy, literature and a minor in theater.   I can talk film, film theory and psychological underpinnings with the best of them.   I’ve read Eisenstein, Barthes, Barthelme, Freud, Lacan, Erikson, Campbell, Artaud, Ionesco, Brecht, and McLuhan and I’ve understood them all as well as anyone other than that authors can hope to understand their body of work.    It’s not that I don’t understand critical film theory.   I just don’t agree with it.   A train entering a tunnel doesn’t always imply intercourse.   Sometimes it does.   But sometimes a train just enters a tunnel to further the plot.   And if two men are fighting on top of a train and the train enters a tunnel and one of them gets decapitated by the lip of the tunnel it doesn’t necessarily symbolize castration anxiety when encountering the female sexual orifice and the fear of the vagina dentata.   Sometimes it just makes sense because how else are you going to decapitate your villain and resolve the conflict?
    That being said, the essays within these covers are excellent examples of film theory in practice being used to attempt to peel back the layers of meaning contained within a film.   Unless a film is completely abstract it is intended to use film as a media combining images and texts in the form of dialogue to communicate a message and the message must necessarily have a viewpoint from which it being projected and the intentions and psyche of the creators of the film can often be extrapolated by reverse-engineering the message(s) communicated through the film both explicitly and implicitly.
     The problem is that if you’re looking hard enough for something you’ll find it.   If you see every object longer than it is wide as a penis and every opening as a vagina then you could easily draw an analogy between any episode of Thomas the Train and the filthiest hardcore pornography you can imagine.   If your world-view is really that hyper-sexualized you’re either a teenager overwhelmed by the hormones coursing through their bloodstream or you’re an adult and you should probably seek counseling.   Although some of the critical analysis is dead-on, as in the aforementioned essay on Rollerball (1975), some of the essays are aiming far from the mark and the critical interpretations they project upon the films they address are forced at best.   Yes, it’s obvious that Chesty Morgan’s disproportionately large breasts are presented as spectacular examples of male desire gone awry, but the implanting of cameras in them in Double Agent 73 (1974) doesn’t necessarily mean that the director intended this to be interpreted as a reclamation of the female apparatus and to invert the function of the male gaze as a weapon as a subversive feminist act.   Chesty Morgan has amazing tits and the producers didn’t hire her because she’s an amazing actress.   Customers going to her films aren’t going for the acting, they’re going because of her 73-inch bustline.   The story has to have some excuse for Miss Morgan to walk around with her tits out and you can’t take pictures through an opaque material, so there you go.   She’s a super-spy who takes pictures with her tits.   To try to force a critical interpretation of the inversion of the male gaze and the perversion of the commoditization of the female body onto what is essentially grist for masturbation is forced at best and like trying to compare The Slumber Party Massacre (1982) with King Lear.   Sure it can be done, but not easily, and to be honest that dog won’t hunt and the shoe doesn’t fit.
   Perhaps I’ve spent too much time focusing on the flaws of this collection of essays.   I think it’s because as a whole I really enjoyed this little refresher course in film criticism by way of critical film theory which is a welcome respite from any of the many uncritically disciplined film reviewers offering their opinions in a miscellany of blogs and forums.   The majority of the articles, if not critically sound are enjoyable to read and the book as a whole read rapidly despite the density of the critical content.
     Particularly enjoyable personally were the essays on the films of Russ Myers, Rollerball (1975), Enter the Dragon (1973), and “Star Cults/Cult Stars: Cinema, Psychosis, Celebrity, Death” by Mikita Brottman.   I was really looking forward to the essay on Snuff Films, but, although relatively well-researched, the construction of the article was disjointed and clunky and from the perspective of a resident of the UK familiar with the “Video Nasties” era of strict British film censorship, so unless you share this rather selective perspective you’re likely to be similarly disappointed.
   Do I regret reading the book?   Not at all.   It was a fun read, but mostly because I had already viewed and was familiar with all of the films addressed in the essays.   Will you enjoy this book?   If this is the kind of thing you’re into and by “this” I mean the specific films addressed in the collection if you’re already well familiar with them.   If you’re looking for an entry-level book on cult films with a comprehensive filmography to use as a “Films to watch” list or a pleasant well-written review of cult films for enthusiasts, I would recommend Midnight Movies by J. Hoberman & Jonathan Rosenbaum instead.

You can find this book and many other Quality Cinema Publications, DVDs, Blu-rays, Soundtracks and T-Shirts at: http://www.fabpress.com/

BOOK REVIEW: The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead by Max Brooks (2003 Three Rivers Press / 272 pgs.)

Review by Scott Lefebvre

   I received my copy of this highly recommendable book from a friend for my birthday with the explanation, "This book is perfect for you.   You really need a copy."   And they were right.   It is perfect for me.   And everyone needs their own copy.
   Steeped in the long precedent of American and Italian Zombie films, this book is a truly pleasurable read even for those people that are more into survival guides and less into zombies.
   I already owned the standard United States Armed Forces Survival Guide (FM 21-76 / June 1992), creatively titled "SURVIVAL", but I had never gotten around to reading it from cover to cover.   Know why?  It's boring!   It's more the type of book that you would take out for a week of extreme camping with some of your crazier friends.   In comparison Max Brooks gives us a survival guide that is both practical and entertaining.   A survival guide so readable that I found it difficult to put it down to get the half hour of sleep that I allow myself each night.
   The most attractive quality of this book is it's graceful combination of humor and practical advice for recognizing the signs of an impending outbreak of the undead, and surviving outbreaks of the undead in every possible scenario from a small, local group of zombie attacks to the complete failure of society as we know it when the hordes of zombies can no longer be controlled by our unsuspecting local and national governmental agencies.
   Of course the idea is completely implausible, but that doesn't stop any enthusiasts of post-apocalyptic films from daydreaming about what they would do when the walls come down.   Admit it.   If you're reading this review, you've probably got your plan for action in the event of an invasion of zombies, aliens, or mutated nuclear holocaust survivors squirreled away in the back of your brain.   And this is why this book is for you and I, because it helps us to refine our plans.
   Discussions about how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world happen at least once a week at my house, and this book neatly summarizes in published forms many of the conclusions that we had come to through our discussions.   Chapters help you to decide on: What type of weapons to use.  Where to go.  What type of transportation to use to get there.   And how to secure your home away from home from the hordes of the undead.
   Although this book is a fundamental addition to my personal library it could have been lightened by about seventy pages by leaving out the fictional chronological timeline of zombie events throughout recorded history listed in the index as "RECORDED ATTACKS".   For someone that recommends traveling lightly and quickly one might think he'd want to make his guidebook as portable as possible.  Although admittedly humorous, this significant section of the book seems tacked on and would perhaps have been more worthy as a bonus supplement available online, or perhaps as an appendix to the author's next highly anticipated book "World War Z: An Oral history of the Zombie War" released in September of 2006.
   In conclusion my copy of the Zombie Survival Guide is proudly displayed on my bookshelf and makes a graceful transition between my military manuals and my horror themed section.   I've got a machete in my trunk and I'm ready to go when you are.

     Three Rivers Press, an Imprint of Crown Books, also a sub-publisher of Random House.

Related links:
Crown Publishers: [Three Rivers Press is an imprint.]
http://www.randomhouse.com/crown/index.html
The online listing of this book in the Crown Catalog:
http://www.randomhouse.com/crown/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9781400049622
The Zombie Survival Guide Online:
http://www.randomhouse.com/crown/zombiesurvivalguide/

BOOK REVIEW: The Zombie Movie Encyclopedia by Peter Dendle (2001 McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers)

Review by Scott Lefebvre

     To borrow a quote, borrowed from the film Ouanga by the author, “Oh, the whole thing has me… confused.”

     The publisher, McFarland Press, began as a library-oriented publisher, publishing monographs and “comprehensive reference works on a variety of subjects”.   The “Performing Arts 2006 – 2007” catalogue reflects this tendency, presenting a wide array of books addressing an interesting variety of topics, many of which with a critical, reference, or anthological bent.   ‘The Zombie Movie Encyclopedia’ is my first exposure to the publisher’s style of presentation.   The publisher claims their “books are manufactured to the highest specifications”.   This is exhibited by the colorful glossy hardcover surrounding the contents, which will survive many a spilled beverage and repeated reading.  

     As to the contents of the book, the catalogue listed it as an “exhaustive overview” and the back cover of the book claims to be a “comprehensive reference” that “covers more than 200 movies produced in 16 countries over more than six decades (1932-1998)”.   This book did present a wider variety of films than I have seen covered in other horror film anthologies that share this format.   [A relatively common format, presenting an introductory essay or essays, followed by an alphabetically, or chronologically listed selection of reviews/synopses.]   The problems I have are the terms “exhaustive” and “comprehensive” when used to address film genres that continue to grow and evolve.   Not only does the “zombie” sub-genre of horror films continue to expand and evolve, but the author’s criteria for consideration was unclear.

     Before I address this lack of clarity, allow me to establish that I genuinely enjoyed the author’s introduction.   I found it to be an excellent introduction for anyone unfamiliar with the zombie film, and a pleasant review of the historical evolution of the zombie film subgenre for knowledgeable horror film enthusiasts.   The author also briefly and clearly interweaves most of the critical theories put forth in discussion of the themes present in and underlying most zombie films.

     The author in the section of his introduction titled, “Definition, Scope, and Principles of Selection”, puts forth definitions of his criteria for what makes a zombie film, and takes pains to explain his reasons for exclusion of similar films, such as “mummy” movies, “ghost” movies, those possessed by demonic forces, and those who are overtaken by the symptoms of a behavior altering disease.   Despite these limitations, there were a pleasant variety of films addressed, and almost all of the films which I expected to be addressed in a book of this title were covered.   [The George Romero ‘…of the Dead’ Trilogy, Fulci’s Spaghetti Zombie films, the miscellany of drive-in B movies with “zombie” in the title, as well as films from early film history.]

     The book does present a satisfactory range of selections from history of film, and if this film had presented itself as an overview or anthology, for which it is indeed sufficient, my complaint regarding cohesiveness of inclusion would be unfounded.

     But I found the author’s inconsistency troubling.   The author includes a segment of a Simpsons’ Treehouse of Horror Episode and one Scooby Doo feature length release, as well as a part of the infamous animated feature Heavy Metal (1981), but these selections are confusing.   If one is going to include two references to zombies in animation, one of which being a part of an episode, it would be difficult to justify the exclusion of all other incidents of zombies in animation, which would make for a lengthy work on its own.   Better to exclude animated selections in the introduction than to include them minimally and peripherally and claim “comprehensiveness”.

     In the introduction, the author writes, “this book will limit coverage to movies in which the creatures are actually revived corpses, or are explicitly referred to as zombies.”

I recognize and appreciate that it is difficult to make strict distinctions among zombies, the undead, the re-animated, the products of scientific experiments, ghouls, cannibals, automatons, cyborgs, mutants, aliens, parasites, symbiotes, and the sufferers of the ravages of disease, pollution, or nuclear radiation, since often the boundaries between these concepts blur as the argument of what the boundaries between life and death are, and the difference between what is a part of and what is apart from the self and one’s body.   The author does an admirable job of defining his criteria.

     But if the Frankenstein monster was cobbled together from dead bodies and brought back to life by science, doesn’t that make him a zombie?  Which would bring in the long legacy of films inspired by Mary Shelley’s novel.   And if so, then what about Robocop, another dead person brought to life again by technology.   And how are Frankenstein and Robocop different from the girl in Wes Craven’s ‘Deadly Friend’, returned to life by a skull implant, which is included for consideration in this anthology?

     Perhaps I’m just being nitpicky.   My “Frankenstein is a zombie” argument is a personal pet peeve, and I admit that part of the fun of reading anthologies that claim to be authoritative or exhaustive is trying to think of those films that were not included, and discussing these inconsistencies with fellow fans of horror films.

     The author’s reviews are concise, succinct, and appropriate for the most part, but at times the author indulges in the urge to treat some films with an ill-humored derisiveness, which seemed unnecessarily harsh.   I accept that the derivative, threadbare plots; minimal and transparent “special” effects; and uninspired performances, sometimes test the patience of even the most enthusiastic “zombie” film enthusiast.   But it seems that comments, like, “Amateur, juvenile, and depressing, ‘Flesheater’ is mostly a waste of a good barn.”, add little to the insightfulness of the entry for the film, instead it seems like taking unnecessarily mean-spirited effort to point out a film’s deficiencies, rather than mentioning what the film’s strengths or points of interest were.   Especially considering that the author claims in the second paragraph of the introduction that he is “not as interested in the quality of the films as in the attention and creativity they devote to their particular treatment of the zombie.”   The reviews do even out over the length of the book, but this weighs in as another example of a disturbing trend in these kind of anthology books.   Authors who claim to be enthusiasts of the type of film the book addresses who go on to mean-spiritedly deride many of the less aesthetically pleasing films selected for consideration.   John McCarty did not indulge in this tendency to malign during his career of writing the anthologies that seem to have inspired contemporary composers of themed horror anthologies, but perhaps this tendency to sarcastically critique the films we claim to like is simply reflective of our times.

     The above faults aside, this book was a pleasant, easy, read, and inspired me to revisit the zombie movies in my DVD library and look for some of those which I had not yet experienced.   In the words of George A. Romero, “Stay Scared.”

     Listed at $35 in the catalogue, the price is somewhat prohibitive.   This is the kind of book that it’s a pleasure to peruse at the bookstore, but I rarely have the opportunity (or more importantly the spare cash) to purchase for myself.   Books that intend on passing for reference books or college textbooks often have inflated prices as anyone that has ever had to buy a college textbook surely knows.

     Although if there’s anyone out there that doesn’t find the $35 price tag prohibitive, I’d be pleased to receive a copy of McFarland’s “Universal Horrors: The Studio’s Classic Films, 1931-1946” for review weighing in with a cover price of $55.00

On the internet:

McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers: www.mcfarlandpub.com

BOOK REVIEW: The Strange Sound Of Cthulhu - Music Inspired by the Writings of H.P. Lovecraft by Gary Hill (2006 Music Street Journal)

Review by Scott Lefebvre

     First off, It’s important to me to mention in reviewing this book, that I did not receive an actual finished copy of this book, but instead the text and cover art were forwarded to me by Barry McDonald from Scream of Terror E-zine for review.

     Seeing first the cover and reading the title of this book, I expected a flashy, shallow, cursory book mentioning only relatively contemporary bands exclusively from the heavy metal music scene.   Instead, I discovered an exhaustively well-researched work which rather than superficially glossing over the more popular musicians which reference Lovecraft’s work, presents an equally exhaustive coverage of bands whose musical creativity was influenced by the writing and life of Howard Phillips Lovecraft.

     It is impossible to be comprehensive when researching and creating a book which chooses for its topic music inspired by the writing and life of H. P. Lovecraft.   The author recognizes this impossibility in his words, “In no way can this text be considered exhaustive.”   New bands are born every day, and will continue to be inspired by the writing of H. P. Lovecraft, or perhaps even be inspired by creators of music, literature and film who were inspired by Lovecraft.

     The author exhibits a particular bias against music and musicians that derived their inspiration from the films of Stuart Gordon.   The films of Stuart Gordon, although many are unmistakably Lovecraftian, have been filtered through the creative interpretation of the director, and I can relate to the author’s universal dismissal of musicians and music which have derived their inspiration from the director’s interpretation of Lovecraft’s work.   The author likewise remains a Lovecraft purist in avoiding digression into addressing music inspired by authors who were inspired by Lovecraft and I admire his purely Lovecraftian bias.

     In this book, the author includes everything which I expected to find in a work which addresses music inspired by the work of H. P. Lovecraft.   All of the music and musicians that one would expect mentioned in a work of this kind are addressed every Lovecraftian and Cthulu musical reference which easily comes to mind.   What surprised me was the number of Lovecraftian songs and performers of which I had previously been oblivious.   This absence in my area of knowledge has been amended by this lengthy discourse on the topic.

     The author begins with a brief introductory chapter about Howard Philips Lovecraft’s life and work.   Following chapters are separated by musical genre covering Psychedelia, Prog Rock, two chapters devoted to Heavy Metal, Punk Rock, Goth, and Electronica, even a chapter covering musical theater.   The author also addresses the uniquely fandom inspired art of “filking”, which I had expected and would have been disappointed to have not seen mentioned.

     It is difficult to convey through words the sound and feeling of hearing music, but the author creatively tries to give the reader a sense of what experiencing the songs addressed in this book might be like.   In doing so, the author seems to have made an effort to avoid unnecessary repetition of his descriptions, and is successful in using a varied vocabulary in his attempts to describe what experiencing the music might feel like.   In fact, I must admit that the author’s descriptions inspired in me a yearning to hear the pieces which he describes.   I hope that this book may be accompanied by a CD containing musical selections covered in the text, or re-released including a musical sampling of the less well known performers and musical selections, since I think this would greatly add to the reader’s experience of the book.

     Regarding the author’s style, the author samples from the work of Lovecraft authorities, lyrics from the songs inspired by H. P. Lovecraft, and colorful selections from interviews with the musicians that created these works focusing on the ways which the works of H. P. Lovecraft inspired them to create their musical homages to H. P. Lovecraft’s life and work.   Often comparing lyrical passages from songs with excerpts from the Lovecraft stories which inspired them, allowing easy side by side comparison.   Many of the interviews are previously unavailable, having been conducted by the author while during his research for this book.   These interviews serve an additionally useful purpose clarifying many myths about songs which had previously been thought to have derived inspiration from the works of H. P. Lovecraft, which in fact were either only minimally inspired or not inspired or not inspired by Lovecraft at all.

     On a positive note, I can honestly say that this book is a welcome addition to the continually growing body of works inspired by the work of H. P. Lovecraft, and a pleasure to read for those that have already have a firm foundation in all things Lovecraftian, having read the entirety of Lovecraft’s works and are devotees of the writing and life of Lovecraft.   This is also one of the only books which I reviewed which did not contain obvious spelling or grammatical errors aside from stylistic indulgences.  The text itself is written both creatively and well.

     As a precaution, it should be mentioned that people who are unfamiliar with the works of H. P. Lovecraft may feel understandably disoriented without a solid background in Lovecraftian lore to frame this work.    But this is unlikely to be much of a problem since this book’s target audience will most likely be at least familiar with Lovecraft’s works.   

     A different problem which I experienced is not being familiar with a majority of the music and musicians covered in this nearly exhaustive work on the topic of Lovecraftian music and musicians.     I found it difficult to stay interested in an in depth description of a song which I have never heard performed by a band of whom I have never heard.

     I have to agree with two passages by S.T. Joshi, author of the Lovecraft biography, H.P. Lovecraft: A Life.

“(Gary Hill’s) coverage from the 1960s group H. P. Lovecraft to Asmodeus X is exhaustive and comprehensive, and his sensitivity to the Lovecraftian overtones of songs and albums that do not, at first glance, seem obviously inspired by Lovecraft is impressive.” And that “Gary has also performed a notable task in interviewing many of the musicians whose work he discusses, so that we have first-hand knowledge of how these artists came upon Lovecraft, what they think of his work, and how their own music is meant to be an homage to the lantern-jawed New England writer.”   It is unquestionable that the amount of time and effort the author went into researching this book is truly admirable.

     I recognize my own personal biases in reviewing books, and even as I write that this book easily exceeds the depth and breadth of my interest in reading about Lovecraftian inspired music, I must put forth that this book is a perfect resource guide for any musician desiring to pay tribute to Lovecraft and to discover the musicians who have preceded them, and the musical tributes to one of America’s most enduring authors of the occult which those musicians have created.

On the internet:

Music Street Journal http://www.musicstreetjournal.com or http://www.myspace.com/musicstreetjournal