Bruce P. Grether: Bruce P. Grether lives in Texas with his partner Tom. He's an activist for the erotic liberation of his fellow men and host of the site:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/mindfulm4men/ online. He can be reached at
bgrether@austin.rr.com online. This review was originally published in White Crane: A Journal for Gay Men's Spirituality, v.52 (Spring 2002). It is reprinted with permission from www.whitecranejournal.com online.
When I first realized that the subject of Clive Barker's latest novel “Coldheart Canyon” involves movies stars and Hollywood, I wasn't so sure that sounded interesting to me. I've been a big Barker fan for many years, since I read his first venture into combining horror with fantasy, “Weaveworld,” published in 1987. That amazing epic combining gritty “this-world” elements with the otherworldly made me an instant fan. I soon realized that Barker must be one of those special gay Renaissance men. Indeed he is! He writes like an angel, paints like a demon, & directs movies like, well, like only Clive Barker can.
However, the Hollywoodland setting and subject matter of “Coldheart Canyon” did not sound promising. I'm not terribly interested in the subject. Still, I should have trusted the unique gifts of this author. This novel, arriving almost four years after his previous one, has also been enriched by some intense life experiences the author alludes to in his pre-story remarks. The fact that he suffered some serious health challenges and the death of his father seems to have added depth to this latest web of Barkerian magick. I don't want to spoil any surprises, but to give a few tantalizing hints of
the riches, it involves an aging action superstar named Todd Pickett, his biggest fan (in more senses than one) named Tammy Lauper and a silent movie actress named Katya Lupi. The last character just happens to still be around, looking as ravishing as ever at her remote estate tucked into the fabled and inexplicable canyon of the title. Blame that hellish basement room. This is no ordinary ghost story, though the subtitle is not misleading. Like so many Chinese ghost stories and tales from other lands, the departed here are far from intangible or wispy. As usual, Barker creates his own metaphysical landscape with riveting plausibility, not simply using pre-existing concepts. Though they are show-biz pariahs, his characters become movingly real, complex, and compelling.
One unexpected connection between two women toward the end, surprised and delighted me in particular. Barker can indeed be wordy and lush with his prose, but the seductive charm, the wrenching shocks and unexpected warmth make this forgivable. In fact, I ended up feeling thankful for the considerable length of the novel. I suspect that you too will not soon forget “Coldheart Canyon if you decide to venture into that enchanted place.”
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