Customer Reviews

Necrophilia Variations

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I read this book in one evening while listening to Bananarama's "Robert DeNiro's Calling" on autorepeat. A walk in a park really can become a bad dream when you are reading "Terror Groupies" with only one hand! Oh my god! This is the average girl's revenge on male rape culture and it is a total trope slope that makes designers like Fred Perry or Perry Ellis seem like finger painting lesbian prison guards. I cannot wait to see this turned into a screen play. Rober DeNiro would not be able to talk Italian after reading this book. Nay. He would barely be able to speak Ebonics.

"Trauma Response Program" will spike the pubes of any multimedia literate pre-pensioner. Radio babies will recognize the hyperlinks to BLAM! but stoners, Maoists and Zionists will not. Nevertheless, this chapter/vignette paints a poignant prophecy for enemies of humanity as well as pseudo-downtrodden academics and performance artists. Supervert carries you into Uma Thurman's underwear and gives you a whif, and then, as you sit up aroused in your bath tub, all you want to do is spank your Spike Lee and listen to Timmy and the Lords of the Underworld. Triumph! A total page turner!

"They didn't want the nuances, the details, the subtleties. They didn't want to know, they wanted to condemn--and since I knew this, since I was well aware of it, I was doing their dirty work for them. I had locked myself into that most solitary of confinements. I was punishing myself by keeping quiet."

Well, if that doesn't reak of Tanya 2.0 prophecy, I don't know what does! After I read this passage, I was suddenly spiked. And I turned to Tim Sanders' _Love is the Killer App_, hoping for a subliminal concordance. But I was deflated.

Supervert crafts a jetsetter ambience that makes the average Georgette or Rita Ackerman fan wet with anticipation. There are crypt death scenes that would make the Trenchies blush or fake bandage chicks recoil with self-loathing and bloody clots. Me, I soiled multiple garments while enjoying the "PostMortem" scene. This book shows SIGNS of life at every turn (of the page). Supervert says, LIFERS, come on down from your heights...make a choice...show some signs of life (while enjoying scenes of death).

And speaking of ebonics, I must say that I had a come down, while I put my heart in the place of Super's protagonist who reminded me of both Morissey and Genesis P-Orridge dancing to contemporary Marc Almond and vintage Loverboy. There is nothing better than a sex-drenched aggression scene...especially when you can find ironic modern day analogues in the newspaper when you google: rape + Iraq. Death. Desire. Deviance. That's the theme. Don't wear it out. Wear it in.

You want a piece of my heart, you better start from the start. You wanna be in the show? Come on baby, let's go...read Necrophilia Variations!

I was surprised by how well written this was...I can't quite explain why. I really enjoyed it. If you can get past the "taboo" subject matter (and I really hope you can) you'll find a well written, hilarious and sometimes even touching book here. Love love love.

I almost feel bad for having submitted such a badly written review. Oh well.

God...words can not describe how awesome this book is, I read the first few sample chapters and I was hooked, I had to read the rest, and Iam SO SO SO glad I got it, yes, it is about "doing the do, with the dead" but its so much more, it gives you a sickening inside look at what these people really think want, and love, I would suggest this book to any one in a heart beat!

I could not stop reading this! It is absolutely entertaining, I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys morbid stories with a little humor.

The little black gem came wrapped in crisp cardboard with a note/bookmark that introduces the reader to
who (or what) Supervert is and does. Dressed in a tux, it pops out in the retina of
even the most casual of observers as my reading session on a park bench quickly confirmed
The textured black paper that reminds me of the charred walls of Saint Andrew's cave (or the dried skin of a
mummy) is actually the dust cover protecting the white paper back. It is destined for a rich patina (just like a black paint Leica) with white edges and dusty textures starting to show. Similar to the subject matter this book needs to be fondled with care.
Inside my suspicions are confirmed when it is revealed that every aspect is under the creative shade of
Supervert. And he needs to be applauded for such an effort. The paper is top notch with a thick ivory color,
texture, vertical watermarks and a beautiful compact typeface, a bit small for my liking, but I guess one has
to strain a bit for the privilege of reading NV.
I don't usually dwell on the way literature is presented but this is one instance when it is as much a part of
the monograph as the stories themselves and it needs to be said that, while this book may serve a lot of
purposes, a high profit margin at the expense of artistic vision isn't one of them.

So what is it?
Well a simple answer would be: 32 stories revolving around "death|desire|deviance" but also
isolation,desperation,joy,acceptance,loss,fulfillment, the immoral and amoral with an esoteric , sometimes
philosophical approach and a healthy dose of black (and almost every other kind of..) humor
Those looking for a mindless gore-fest that might be attracted by the bold title will be partially
disappointed. This book is not populated by one-dimensional
cartoonish characters that "are into dead chicks" or are trying to fulfill some crappy vampire
fantasy,although one belle has a thing for their furniture sets.
An urban book. I might go as far as saying that it has a New York setting but this is because I haven't
visited the place so my vision of it is Gotham with bicycles.
The characters that inhabit its Universe come across as intelligent and refined, [mostly] introspective who
act more on lucid choice or accepted compulsion rather than desperation or animal lust. They take on a
mostly masculine persona and whilst a few are gender-free there is no clear voice or depiction of "necro-nimphs"
although they are alluded to in "How would you like it?" and one can only imagine what the terror
groupies do with their prized collection.
Like the cover, Necrophilia Variation has symmetry. It begins with a light hearted necro-manifesto. A draft
campaign who appeals to the narcissist in you;the kind of instance where you would like to be seen as sexy
rather than repulsive and be ravaged instead of recycled although,in a way, necrophilia is the ultimate form
of recycling(there should be a cash for clunkers where you send your dead spouse to be reused and get a
voucher towards a high-end sex doll). But it ends with what I can only call as buyers remorse
when the author goes through moral backlash only to resurface in a jokers grin confident in the fertility
of the little necrodisiac seed that he so masterfully planted in your simple mind.
The first person narration is one of the greatest selling points for this book. Supervert is able to slip in the
POV of so many different minds and consciences, ranging from the naive and mundane to the depraved and
supernatural. No doubt his work at Pervscan ,where he hand-picked and provided brilliant commentary to
some of the intriguing aspects of human behavior in the news, has made him more proficient in the deviant
mind than most authors could or would ever want to be
And this is why NV could be(and by all accounts is) so personal to so many because flipping through the
available reviews will show that everyone has his/her own favorites .So personal in fact that I can't bring
myself to craft a "review" of the individual stories. I love em all or better said I dislike none which is why I
find it next to impossible to comb each and every one and spurt non-sense like 'yeah dude some girls do look hotter when their papa dies'
But if an evil genie stuck a metal rod up my ass on a stormy day demanding to know mine then I would
probably confess to Trauma Response Program ,which should have been made into a movie a long time ago
with Scarlet Johanson as Bibi just so I can see her squirm in that bathtub. And that ambulance crawl is
etched deep into my mind
When you add his on-line essay "Perversion and Terror" to the mix you get a unique viewpoint and attitude
to what has to be the most spectacular event of the closing decade.
Did I mention that I was and still am terrified of dead bodies? I love grand cemeteries with that air of
solemn remembrance and peace but the sight of even a fresh one makes my skin crawl.
So it will sound odd when I tell you that I had a choice between NV and his other book,Extraterrestrial sex
fetish .I went by name alone thinking that if the author had the cojones to splatter that bold title than it can
either be brilliant or shite. If you had the patience to read this text than you already know where I stand