A few months ago I had a bought of obsession with the literary genre of splatter-punk--particularly any books from extreme horror publisher Deadite Press. I was both fascinated by the seemingly intricate writing style these writers presented while still being appalled by the images of debauchery and violence that was presented in the text. Many times I would put down a book halfway through and swear I wouldn't pick it back up. But the draw of the story and pulled me in. It was like I was staring at a graphic public beheading--similar to medieval style torture--and couldn't look away. I even tried my hand at writing in this style--which I quite enjoyed--and managed to horrify some of the students and teachers in my creative writing classes at conservative BYU-Idaho.
The last splatter-punk book I picked up and read was a little collaboration between nine well-known authors. That book is Sixty-Five Stirrup Iron Road.
I picked the book up because I was interested in the idea of so many authors working together to create a singular tale. Additionally, the authors were writing the book to help support their friend Tom Piccirilli, who was having a bought with cancer.
I figured that I was interested in each of the authors individually, and I would be helping to support a good cause. So I ordered a copy and eagerly awaited its arrival.
When the book arrived I immediately started reading and was immediately disgusted.
The book begins by following a young girl named Nicci who performs oral sex on men to make her living. Nicci is caught by the police and charged with prostitution. She is sent to jail for a few months and then put on house arrest at her brother's home which is located at 65 Stirrup Iron Road.
It is there that she begins to experience strange and disturbing phenomenon. Images of sexual debauchery, demonic forces, and violence all haunt her at the house. Nicci wants to put the blame on her brother but soon realizes that there are far more sinister forces at work.
When her brother is brutally murdered and his body parts strewn in little bits all around the house Nicci finally loses it. She is charged with the murder of her brother and sent to the local insane asylum.
Already, just from reading the prologue, it is apparent that this novel in no way is trying to take itself seriously. In no way does it resemble the brutally and gritty horror of such novels as The Offspring. No, Sixty-Five Stirrup Iron Road has no intentions of being a serious and reflective horror novel. The entire purpose is to be a perverse and demented as humanly possible.
Ten years later a married couple move into the house. Arrianne and Chuck are trying to find a new life. They are trying to make one last effort to save their marriage and their sanity. Little do they know that they've moved into the sadistic house from hell.
As I've often found with splatter-punk novels, I really began to enjoy these characters. These authors obviously have the talent to write meaningful work. So I often wonder why they write such sick fantasies instead.
As Chuck goes off to work each day Arrianne stays in the house and tries to regain her sanity. But, when one say she finds some of the sickest porn on the internet in her husband's computer she freaks out. And this is just the beginning.
Soon, the sickness of the pornography that seems to infect every digital device on the house begins to infect her brain and desires. It is as if some entity in the house has the sickest fetishes known to man and is planning on using them on the house guests.
I don't want to go into more detail on the story than that since it gets pretty disturbing. However, I will say that as the novel begins to move towards its climax that the authors begin to write themselves into the novel as characters.
Quickly it becomes apparent what the true intention of the novel is. It wasn't just there to be as sick and disgusting as possible. It is actually nine authors who are doing a meta-analysis of why they bother writing in this genre and why anyone bothers reading it.
This aspect alone is what redeems this horrific little novel. It is humors listening to these author's go back and forth and discuss the horrors that they write. They acknowledge their own sick minds and some detail why they do it. It is enjoyable to see them criticize each other and their own work, to acknowledge what elements went too far or were wrong.
But ultimately the novel itself punishes the authors for their sick work. As all but one of the authors become trapped in the story they are doomed to death and torture in the most vile ways.
I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone. It is so unbelievably obscene that most readers would have put it down after the first ten to fifteen pages. Each chapter is like a competition between authors to see who can create the most disturbing imagery.
I too quit many times throughout the book. However, I decided I needed to finish the book and get it out of my system. But this was the catalyst that ended my reading of splatter-punk novels, at least for a while.
The last splatter-punk book I picked up and read was a little collaboration between nine well-known authors. That book is Sixty-Five Stirrup Iron Road.
I picked the book up because I was interested in the idea of so many authors working together to create a singular tale. Additionally, the authors were writing the book to help support their friend Tom Piccirilli, who was having a bought with cancer.
I figured that I was interested in each of the authors individually, and I would be helping to support a good cause. So I ordered a copy and eagerly awaited its arrival.
When the book arrived I immediately started reading and was immediately disgusted.
The book begins by following a young girl named Nicci who performs oral sex on men to make her living. Nicci is caught by the police and charged with prostitution. She is sent to jail for a few months and then put on house arrest at her brother's home which is located at 65 Stirrup Iron Road.
It is there that she begins to experience strange and disturbing phenomenon. Images of sexual debauchery, demonic forces, and violence all haunt her at the house. Nicci wants to put the blame on her brother but soon realizes that there are far more sinister forces at work.
When her brother is brutally murdered and his body parts strewn in little bits all around the house Nicci finally loses it. She is charged with the murder of her brother and sent to the local insane asylum.
Already, just from reading the prologue, it is apparent that this novel in no way is trying to take itself seriously. In no way does it resemble the brutally and gritty horror of such novels as The Offspring. No, Sixty-Five Stirrup Iron Road has no intentions of being a serious and reflective horror novel. The entire purpose is to be a perverse and demented as humanly possible.
Ten years later a married couple move into the house. Arrianne and Chuck are trying to find a new life. They are trying to make one last effort to save their marriage and their sanity. Little do they know that they've moved into the sadistic house from hell.
As I've often found with splatter-punk novels, I really began to enjoy these characters. These authors obviously have the talent to write meaningful work. So I often wonder why they write such sick fantasies instead.
As Chuck goes off to work each day Arrianne stays in the house and tries to regain her sanity. But, when one say she finds some of the sickest porn on the internet in her husband's computer she freaks out. And this is just the beginning.
Soon, the sickness of the pornography that seems to infect every digital device on the house begins to infect her brain and desires. It is as if some entity in the house has the sickest fetishes known to man and is planning on using them on the house guests.
I don't want to go into more detail on the story than that since it gets pretty disturbing. However, I will say that as the novel begins to move towards its climax that the authors begin to write themselves into the novel as characters.
Quickly it becomes apparent what the true intention of the novel is. It wasn't just there to be as sick and disgusting as possible. It is actually nine authors who are doing a meta-analysis of why they bother writing in this genre and why anyone bothers reading it.
This aspect alone is what redeems this horrific little novel. It is humors listening to these author's go back and forth and discuss the horrors that they write. They acknowledge their own sick minds and some detail why they do it. It is enjoyable to see them criticize each other and their own work, to acknowledge what elements went too far or were wrong.
But ultimately the novel itself punishes the authors for their sick work. As all but one of the authors become trapped in the story they are doomed to death and torture in the most vile ways.
I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone. It is so unbelievably obscene that most readers would have put it down after the first ten to fifteen pages. Each chapter is like a competition between authors to see who can create the most disturbing imagery.
I too quit many times throughout the book. However, I decided I needed to finish the book and get it out of my system. But this was the catalyst that ended my reading of splatter-punk novels, at least for a while.
Summing it Up
Unless you are a sucker for the grotesque and torture, or if you're interested in a meta-fiction analysis of extreme horror, I would recommend that you not read this book. It has some of the most vile scenes of literature that I've ever read in my life--on par with and even worse than Sadie the Sadist. I enjoyed the elements of meta-fiction but they weren't worth the first 75% of the book. If you really want an analysis of extreme horror than go look at literary journals and critics.
Deaths: ?
Language: 5
Gore Factor: 5
Sex Factor: 5
Scare Factor: 3
Fun Factor: 1
Overall Rating: 1
Deaths: ?
Language: 5
Gore Factor: 5
Sex Factor: 5
Scare Factor: 3
Fun Factor: 1
Overall Rating: 1