Since the
early nineties, there have been rumors, mere whisperings perhaps, that a
mysterious tome known as The Scarlet Gospels was being written. It’s author? Well, there could only be one
author of such a thing: Clive Barker. But what exactly would comprise these other gospels? At one point, erotic
poetry. At another, a collection of dark fiction. And then this: a sequel to
the novella that birthed the Hellraiser movies, The Hellbound Heart. Ah, what reader of The Hellbound Heart can easily forget it? The Lemarchand box. The
Order of the Gash. The Cenobites. Pinhead.
This is what Clive Barker fans have been waiting for, a sequel, and that is
exactly what you’ll find when you read The
Scarlet Gospels. This time, though, Pinhead (a moniker the Hellpriest despises,
by the way) shares the stage with that beleaguered, demon-killing detective of
the dark arts, Harry d’Amour, and when these two meet, it won’t be pretty. No
punches are pulled here. There will be blood. There will be a harrowing journey
through the bowels of hell. And there will be a final showdown between good and
evil. Like The Hellbound Heart, this
story doesn’t sit still, it moves. But,
disappointingly, it lacks the poetic eloquence of its predecessor and the depth
of Barker’s earlier imaginative masterpieces. (If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: there is nothing in the canon of dark fantasy that can top Barker's Imajica.) Regardless, if you’ve been
reading Clive Barker for as long as I have, The
Scarlet Gospels is well worth your time.
So tell me, are
you ready to take a trip to hell? Mr. Barker has such sights to show you.















