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Peckinpah: An Ultraviolent Romance
Life in Dreamfield, Indiana, is a daily harangue of pigs, cornfields, pigs, fast food joints, pigs, Dollar Stores, motorcycles, pigs, and good old-fashioned Amerikan redneckery. The decidedly estranged yet complacent occupants of this proverbial smalltown go about their business like geriatrics in a casino … until their business is interrupted by a sinister gang of outsiders. Angry, slick-talking, and ultraviolent to the core, Samson Thataway and the Fuming Garcias commit art-for-art’s-sake in the form of hideous, unmotivated serial killings. When an unsuspecting everyman’s wife is murdered by the throng, it is up to Felix Soandso to avenge her death and return Dreamfield to its natural state of absurdity.
142 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2009
5 people are currently reading
518 people want to read
About the author
D. Harlan Wilson
71 books346 followersD. Harlan Wilson is an American novelist, critic, editor, playwright, and college professor. His body of work bridges the aesthetics of literary and film theory with various genres of speculative fiction. Recent books include
Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination: A Critical Companion
(2022),
Minority Report
(2022),
Jackanape and the Fingermen
(2021),
Outré
(2020),
The Psychotic Dr. Schreber
(2019),
Natural Complexions
(2018), and
J.G. Ballard
(2017).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews
September 2, 2011
When a psychopath named Samson Thataway and his gang, the Fuming Garcias, ride into Dreamfield, Indiana, it means trouble for the small town. During an orgy of rape and murder, they made two mistakes: they raped and murdered Felix Soandso's wife, and they left Felix alive...
Peckinpah is an absurdist tribute to the films of Sam Peckinpah. While my summary makes it seem like a fairly standard revenge tale, it's not. It's so weird that even though it was less than 110 pages, I couldn't have taken much more.
Peckinpah seems to take place in the same world as DHW's SciKungFi trilogy. Amerika was mentioned a few times, as were the goat-headed men. Since the book was a tribute to Peckinpah films, I knew how it would end but it was still fun getting there.
That's about all I can articulate about Peckinpah right now. It's slightly less weird than Dr. Identity and way less weird than Codename Prague. It's an enjoyable little book and a good way to spend a couple hours.
Peckinpah is an absurdist tribute to the films of Sam Peckinpah. While my summary makes it seem like a fairly standard revenge tale, it's not. It's so weird that even though it was less than 110 pages, I couldn't have taken much more.
Peckinpah seems to take place in the same world as DHW's SciKungFi trilogy. Amerika was mentioned a few times, as were the goat-headed men. Since the book was a tribute to Peckinpah films, I knew how it would end but it was still fun getting there.
That's about all I can articulate about Peckinpah right now. It's slightly less weird than Dr. Identity and way less weird than Codename Prague. It's an enjoyable little book and a good way to spend a couple hours.
November 15, 2009
In 1994 Alan Moore wrote a short story about a woman named Maureen Cooper, a bartender who slowly comes to realize she exists only as a character on a popular TV soap. The story was dense, verbose, brilliant metafiction, blending the story of Maureen with that of the actress who played her (who was herself not who she seemed) with a vicious polemic on television and its effects on society. It was called “Light of Thy Countenance” and there are two reasons I bring it up: first, because I feel that it is the spiritual predecessor to D. Harlan Wilson’s amazing “Peckinpah”, and secondly, because of Alan Moore himself, who felt strongly enough about this book to provide a blurb on the cover.
“Peckinpah” is difficult to categorize, a satirical meta mash up of microfiction and microcriticism into something that maybe resembles a novel but is, I think, something much more interesting.
The back cover blurb does its best: it tells us “Peckinpah” is about Felix Soandso, the husband of a murdered woman who must wreak righteous vengeance on her killer, Samson Thataway, the hyperviolent leader of the Fuming Garcias, a Reservoir Dogs-esque clone army. Sure thing, back cover, but I’d argue that the story is just as much about a man who tears pigs in half or a shoe store clerk witnessing his coworkers disappearing beneath a stampeding tractor or corn stalks that open to reveal chainsaws.
Amidst all the absurdity, a wide variety of film motifs come under fire, such as rape scenes, lazy endings, and the fetishism of weaponry and violence. But it’s the oversized role of film and television in our lives that seems to be the biggest target: pay attention to the chapter in which Felix Soandso is introduced to the single worst moment in his life through the screenplay excerpt that we have just read. Or the only chapter in which a book makes an appearance, the cover depicting an alien riding the blast of a nuclear explosion.
Throughout its entirety Wilson manages to keep the language terse and punchy. It is a brief novel made briefer by the force of its language, but if you’re like me, you’ll pick it back up and read through it again, slower the second time. And once again it will entertain and, more importantly, once again it will get you thinking.
“Peckinpah” is difficult to categorize, a satirical meta mash up of microfiction and microcriticism into something that maybe resembles a novel but is, I think, something much more interesting.
The back cover blurb does its best: it tells us “Peckinpah” is about Felix Soandso, the husband of a murdered woman who must wreak righteous vengeance on her killer, Samson Thataway, the hyperviolent leader of the Fuming Garcias, a Reservoir Dogs-esque clone army. Sure thing, back cover, but I’d argue that the story is just as much about a man who tears pigs in half or a shoe store clerk witnessing his coworkers disappearing beneath a stampeding tractor or corn stalks that open to reveal chainsaws.
Amidst all the absurdity, a wide variety of film motifs come under fire, such as rape scenes, lazy endings, and the fetishism of weaponry and violence. But it’s the oversized role of film and television in our lives that seems to be the biggest target: pay attention to the chapter in which Felix Soandso is introduced to the single worst moment in his life through the screenplay excerpt that we have just read. Or the only chapter in which a book makes an appearance, the cover depicting an alien riding the blast of a nuclear explosion.
Throughout its entirety Wilson manages to keep the language terse and punchy. It is a brief novel made briefer by the force of its language, but if you’re like me, you’ll pick it back up and read through it again, slower the second time. And once again it will entertain and, more importantly, once again it will get you thinking.
July 10, 2012
I just don't know what to think after this. An unusual book, for sure! An homage/mock homage to legendary director Sam Peckinpah who directed ultraviolent movies such as: The Wild Bunch, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, Ride the High Country, The Ballad of Cable Hogue, etc.
It's hard for me to say whether I truly liked it or not. The book is structured in jagged bits and pieces, and it covers a whole lot; however, only a little more than half of the chapters actually involve the story and characters mentioned in the summary. The rest of "Peckinpah" includes theories on the nature of ultraviolence, short essays about Sam Peckinpah himself, and random filler. It can be a challenge if you don’t know what you’re in for, and I sure didn't until I did some research on Sam Peckinpah on my own. By the end it made a kind of sense, it was rather like reading a transcript to a violent comic or movie script.
The story feels like a novella spaced with descriptive word slam poetry in between. This is definitely a book where every word counts, and at times when the story wasn't center stage it felt more like a poem than a novel. D. Harlan uses great language when describing scenes. At times the images that assault your mind are at a rapid speed, with short chapters, like a ultraviolent Peckinpah directed scene. I felt that if I didn't read it all in one sitting I would lose the image and pace of the story. I had to trudge on.
I gotta say once I understood what the story was about I really appreciated D. Harlan Wilson's writing format. Setting up scenes with camera angles, moving shots, close-ups, fade-outs, sound effects, etc. really giving it a movie director touch and bringing the chapters/scenes to life. It was a definite challenge of a read which took some work and rereading on my part but I think it was worth it in the end. Definitely a unique read. Recommended for fans of violence and bizarro!
It's hard for me to say whether I truly liked it or not. The book is structured in jagged bits and pieces, and it covers a whole lot; however, only a little more than half of the chapters actually involve the story and characters mentioned in the summary. The rest of "Peckinpah" includes theories on the nature of ultraviolence, short essays about Sam Peckinpah himself, and random filler. It can be a challenge if you don’t know what you’re in for, and I sure didn't until I did some research on Sam Peckinpah on my own. By the end it made a kind of sense, it was rather like reading a transcript to a violent comic or movie script.
The story feels like a novella spaced with descriptive word slam poetry in between. This is definitely a book where every word counts, and at times when the story wasn't center stage it felt more like a poem than a novel. D. Harlan uses great language when describing scenes. At times the images that assault your mind are at a rapid speed, with short chapters, like a ultraviolent Peckinpah directed scene. I felt that if I didn't read it all in one sitting I would lose the image and pace of the story. I had to trudge on.
I gotta say once I understood what the story was about I really appreciated D. Harlan Wilson's writing format. Setting up scenes with camera angles, moving shots, close-ups, fade-outs, sound effects, etc. really giving it a movie director touch and bringing the chapters/scenes to life. It was a definite challenge of a read which took some work and rereading on my part but I think it was worth it in the end. Definitely a unique read. Recommended for fans of violence and bizarro!
January 7, 2010
D Harlan Wilson’s Peckinpah is one of his best works, and that’s saying a lot. Wilson takes his own flare for high-minded weirdness and jacks it up a billion notches. The book is structured in jagged bits and pieces, and it covers a wide variety of topics. Only about half of the chapters involve the actual story and characters. The rest of Peckinpah includes theories on the nature of ultraviolence and short essays about Sam Peckinpah himself. It can be daunting if you don’t know what you’re in for.
Part of Peckinpah is a classical revenge tragedy starring Samson Thataway and Felix Soandso. Thataway is a surreal character. He and his Fuming Garcias are almost the living embodiment of ultraviolence. They carve a trail through the earth with their LeBarons, performing gruesome executions and epic acts of random destruction. Felix Soandso’s wife is killed during the massacre, and naturally he sets out to take revenge on the Fuming Garcias’ insane leader, Samson Thataway. Along the way we learn more about who Sam Peckinpah was and some sophisticated theories on ultraviolence.
In my opinion, Wilson really flexes his muscles when he shows us his violent scenes using film references. Peckinpah is like a literary version of Natural Born Killers, Kill Bill, and some of the more violent anime out there. Certain scenes are described with camera angles, moving shots, close-ups, fade-outs, and sound effects. These scenes are some of the most vivid stuff I’ve ever read. Overall, D Harlan Wilson isn’t content to write a revenge story. Instead, he uses his sharp and colorful style to examine and dissect a dead director and his love affair with ultraviolence. Truly, Peckinpah is an ultraviolent romance.
Part of Peckinpah is a classical revenge tragedy starring Samson Thataway and Felix Soandso. Thataway is a surreal character. He and his Fuming Garcias are almost the living embodiment of ultraviolence. They carve a trail through the earth with their LeBarons, performing gruesome executions and epic acts of random destruction. Felix Soandso’s wife is killed during the massacre, and naturally he sets out to take revenge on the Fuming Garcias’ insane leader, Samson Thataway. Along the way we learn more about who Sam Peckinpah was and some sophisticated theories on ultraviolence.
In my opinion, Wilson really flexes his muscles when he shows us his violent scenes using film references. Peckinpah is like a literary version of Natural Born Killers, Kill Bill, and some of the more violent anime out there. Certain scenes are described with camera angles, moving shots, close-ups, fade-outs, and sound effects. These scenes are some of the most vivid stuff I’ve ever read. Overall, D Harlan Wilson isn’t content to write a revenge story. Instead, he uses his sharp and colorful style to examine and dissect a dead director and his love affair with ultraviolence. Truly, Peckinpah is an ultraviolent romance.
May 24, 2009
Bad, strange people come to an American town and start killing people in lots of little chapters.
An unusual book! It's impossible for me to say whether it's good or not; I've read nothing similar to judge it against. By the end it made a kind of sense, but pictures would have helped; it was rather like reading a transcript of a Grant Morrison comic like The Filth.
Like the Rhys Hughes book I've been reading recently (The Smell of Telescopes), this is a book where every word counts - it's more like a prose poem than a novel - and since I do most of my reading at bedtime I tend to struggle with such books.
So this was quite hard work, but by the end I felt the effort had been worthwhile.
An unusual book! It's impossible for me to say whether it's good or not; I've read nothing similar to judge it against. By the end it made a kind of sense, but pictures would have helped; it was rather like reading a transcript of a Grant Morrison comic like The Filth.
Like the Rhys Hughes book I've been reading recently (The Smell of Telescopes), this is a book where every word counts - it's more like a prose poem than a novel - and since I do most of my reading at bedtime I tend to struggle with such books.
So this was quite hard work, but by the end I felt the effort had been worthwhile.
Read
September 1, 2009"A bludgeoning celluloid rush of language and ideas served from an action-painter's bucket of fluorescent spatter, D. Harlan Wilson's Peckinpah is an incendiary gem and very probably the most extraordinary new novel you will read this year." ALAN MOORE, author of Watchmen, V for Vendetta, From Hell and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen
"D. Harlan Wilson's latest romp of a book, Peckinpah: An Ultravoilent Romance, proves that Wilson is either a genius or a madman, in all likelihood a crazed hybrid of both. A book that will delight Wilson's fans and mortally shock the unintiated." ERIC MILES WILLIAMSON, author of Welcome to Oakland and East Bay Grease
"D. Harlan Wilson's latest romp of a book, Peckinpah: An Ultravoilent Romance, proves that Wilson is either a genius or a madman, in all likelihood a crazed hybrid of both. A book that will delight Wilson's fans and mortally shock the unintiated." ERIC MILES WILLIAMSON, author of Welcome to Oakland and East Bay Grease
December 21, 2022
Cortas esquelas para un final (Comentario, 2022)
La velocidad de las acciones, intercaladas a rápidos cambios de escenario que contrastan con lentísimos planos detalle, hacen de esta lectura un fantástico huracán. A medio camino entre el relato corto, el ensayo crítico, el apunte biográfico y la comedia gore, el libro procura crear una caricatura abarcable del delirio violento de una sociedad en estupor, lenta y soporífera, que se niega a hacer de sí misma algo más que la rutina autodestructiva.
Un par de guiños metatextuales indican la intención de que se comprenda como artefacto, y que como artefacto se arroje al mundo esperando que sea explosivo. A lo mejor no consigue ser partido en dos.
La velocidad de las acciones, intercaladas a rápidos cambios de escenario que contrastan con lentísimos planos detalle, hacen de esta lectura un fantástico huracán. A medio camino entre el relato corto, el ensayo crítico, el apunte biográfico y la comedia gore, el libro procura crear una caricatura abarcable del delirio violento de una sociedad en estupor, lenta y soporífera, que se niega a hacer de sí misma algo más que la rutina autodestructiva.
Un par de guiños metatextuales indican la intención de que se comprenda como artefacto, y que como artefacto se arroje al mundo esperando que sea explosivo. A lo mejor no consigue ser partido en dos.
December 28, 2022
This was recommended because a reader thought it reminded them of my novel, Perras Malas. It’s a fragmented story told much in the way that Naked Lunch was written. Better yet, it’s more like Burroughs’ Nova Express working as a deconstructed movie script than a novel. In any case, this is nuts. Somewhere in there are biographical moments about director Sam Peckinpah’ as life. Short but epic.
September 13, 2020
Slosh of disembowelment...
October 11, 2012
This book sits neatly in between Dr. Identity and Codename Prague - two of Wilson's novel length works. I can see the themes in both books being examined and played with in this work.
That is in no way a critical statement, I happen to find Wilson's work refreshing.
This story doesn't even run like a normal story, half of it is just setting the scene, the second half kind of follows a narrative, but with many tangents along the way.
I think Wilson wanted to say that he likes Sam Peckinpah, but couldn't help himself but write a fascinating and bizarre tale as he did so. Typically strong Wilson style prose and absurdity with almost comic ultra-violence.
If you've not read D. Harlan Wilson before then you really owe it to yourself to check his work out. The violence is not pornographic, it is really quite beautiful or funny. If you can't laugh at yourself (or mankind) then what can you laugh at?
That is in no way a critical statement, I happen to find Wilson's work refreshing.
This story doesn't even run like a normal story, half of it is just setting the scene, the second half kind of follows a narrative, but with many tangents along the way.
I think Wilson wanted to say that he likes Sam Peckinpah, but couldn't help himself but write a fascinating and bizarre tale as he did so. Typically strong Wilson style prose and absurdity with almost comic ultra-violence.
If you've not read D. Harlan Wilson before then you really owe it to yourself to check his work out. The violence is not pornographic, it is really quite beautiful or funny. If you can't laugh at yourself (or mankind) then what can you laugh at?
December 12, 2011
After Blankety Blank, I had to read more of this guy, just to be sure his brilliance wasn’t a one-off thing. I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t yet seen a Sam Peckinpah film, as much as I want to. However, I could still make enough sense of the book without being overly familiar with his work. The book is short. The chapters are short. And while it doesn’t feel as intricate or as clever as Blankety Blank, it’s still a fantastic book. It’s filled with scenes that are at times ultraviolent, surreal, strangely awkward, absurdly exaggerated, and occasionally filmic. And it’s got illustrations. Flicking through the book just now, I came across a page that had something startlingly appropriate written on it. “It was as comical as it was dead serious.” It’s pretty fucking awesome. I love the way D. Harlan Wilson writes books.
May 1, 2011
this is one of those books that makes you redefine the way you read. The story is interspersed with facts about the films of Sam Peckinpah, and laid out like scene descriptions which explode with violence and some truly arresting prose. D. Wilson's voice is unique, and this book really shows you what he can do, which is quite a bit. The type of book that kicks you in the teeth--in a good way.
September 13, 2023
Wild and disjointed and scattered in a fun and scrapped together way that makes me need to dive headlong into some over-the-top exploitation movies and westerns for the next millennia. The prose and language are sick and grimy just like the source of their inspiration. Loved it. Wanted so much more of it.
September 10, 2009
Find out just why and how much I loved this in the next issue of Bust Down the Door and Eat All the Chickens.
October 6, 2011
Will have to read this one again. It deserves it.
October 12, 2025
No es un libro, es un western demente en el parking de un McDonald's, con más cortes por minuto que la nariz de un rockstar en el '77.
El honor, la venganza, el absurdo... todo se bate en una coctelera con metralla y mucho humor negro licuado. Wilson no solo describe masacres, las coreografía. Te lanza capítulos fragmentados como esquirlas de una granada, cada uno resonando a cámara lenta y a toda velocidad a la vez, justo como el maestro Peckinpah disecaba la balística. Es un libro-película que huele a pólvora, a celuloide quemado y a sudor frío. Un homenaje a la violencia como arte, sí, pero también una burla existencial a nuestra obsesión por verla.
E autor te invita a Dreamfield, Indiana, un pueblo tan aburrido que su máxima emoción es el ciclo de vida del estiércol de cerdo. Pero la calma, ya sabemos, es para los débiles. El caos irrumpe al estilo de un motorcycle club en día de cobro: Thataway y los Fuming Garcias, una pandilla que hace que los Hell's Angels parezcan boy scouts. Y sí, traen consigo una ultraviolencia tan estética que podrías confundirla con performance art. ¿El detonante? La muerte de la esposa de Felix Massomeno. Pura tragedia griega trailer trash.
La prosa es cruda, elegante y totalmente alucinada. Un diálogo entre Kafka y un guionista de serie B. ¿Es una carta de amor a un director de cine muerto o un manifiesto nihilista disfrazado de pulp? No importa.
***
Si esperaban al típico literato de biblioteca polvorienta, han acertado. Pero este bibliotecario viene con motosierra y un doctorado en mala conducta.
D. Harlan Wilson, el tipo que probablemente le robaría la camisa a Kafka, la pintaría de neón y la llamaría "arte conceptual", no es solo un novelista, crítico y dramaturgo estadounidense. Es el agitador profesional del "bizarro fiction" que, además, ostenta un doctorado y enseña inglés en una universidad. Sí, leyeron bien: el mismo cerebro que parió novelas descritas como una "masacre kafkiana", es el que pone las notas a los ensayos de sus alumnos.
Nacido para ser un virus en el sistema de la literatura de género, Wilson es el cruce genético entre un teórico académico ultra-serio y un payaso existencial con acceso a una imprenta. Su obra es donde la ciencia ficción se encuentra con la teoría fílmica y luego ambas se dan de puñetazos en un callejón oscuro lleno de referencias pop y humor negro como el alquitrán.
Su estilo es tan "un género en sí mismo" que, si tratas de clasificarlo, probablemente te explote la cabeza. Wilson usa la ultraviolencia cómica, la ficción pulp y la crítica cultural como si fueran ingredientes de un smoothie radiactivo. ¿Resultado? Libros donde la realidad se derrite más rápido que un vinilo al sol.
Sus libros no son solo historias; son experimentos mentales sádicos. Es el único autor que te puede hacer reír y vomitar al mismo tiempo. D. Harlan Wilson no es solo un autor, es un acto de subversión. Un recordatorio cáustico de que, a veces, la única manera de entender la locura de este mundo es con un toque de genio y mucha, mucha mierda de cerdo (metafórica, esperemos). Un genio o un lunático, como lo han llamado. Y lo más probable es que sea un híbrido desquiciado de ambos.
El honor, la venganza, el absurdo... todo se bate en una coctelera con metralla y mucho humor negro licuado. Wilson no solo describe masacres, las coreografía. Te lanza capítulos fragmentados como esquirlas de una granada, cada uno resonando a cámara lenta y a toda velocidad a la vez, justo como el maestro Peckinpah disecaba la balística. Es un libro-película que huele a pólvora, a celuloide quemado y a sudor frío. Un homenaje a la violencia como arte, sí, pero también una burla existencial a nuestra obsesión por verla.
E autor te invita a Dreamfield, Indiana, un pueblo tan aburrido que su máxima emoción es el ciclo de vida del estiércol de cerdo. Pero la calma, ya sabemos, es para los débiles. El caos irrumpe al estilo de un motorcycle club en día de cobro: Thataway y los Fuming Garcias, una pandilla que hace que los Hell's Angels parezcan boy scouts. Y sí, traen consigo una ultraviolencia tan estética que podrías confundirla con performance art. ¿El detonante? La muerte de la esposa de Felix Massomeno. Pura tragedia griega trailer trash.
La prosa es cruda, elegante y totalmente alucinada. Un diálogo entre Kafka y un guionista de serie B. ¿Es una carta de amor a un director de cine muerto o un manifiesto nihilista disfrazado de pulp? No importa.
***
Si esperaban al típico literato de biblioteca polvorienta, han acertado. Pero este bibliotecario viene con motosierra y un doctorado en mala conducta.
D. Harlan Wilson, el tipo que probablemente le robaría la camisa a Kafka, la pintaría de neón y la llamaría "arte conceptual", no es solo un novelista, crítico y dramaturgo estadounidense. Es el agitador profesional del "bizarro fiction" que, además, ostenta un doctorado y enseña inglés en una universidad. Sí, leyeron bien: el mismo cerebro que parió novelas descritas como una "masacre kafkiana", es el que pone las notas a los ensayos de sus alumnos.
Nacido para ser un virus en el sistema de la literatura de género, Wilson es el cruce genético entre un teórico académico ultra-serio y un payaso existencial con acceso a una imprenta. Su obra es donde la ciencia ficción se encuentra con la teoría fílmica y luego ambas se dan de puñetazos en un callejón oscuro lleno de referencias pop y humor negro como el alquitrán.
Su estilo es tan "un género en sí mismo" que, si tratas de clasificarlo, probablemente te explote la cabeza. Wilson usa la ultraviolencia cómica, la ficción pulp y la crítica cultural como si fueran ingredientes de un smoothie radiactivo. ¿Resultado? Libros donde la realidad se derrite más rápido que un vinilo al sol.
Sus libros no son solo historias; son experimentos mentales sádicos. Es el único autor que te puede hacer reír y vomitar al mismo tiempo. D. Harlan Wilson no es solo un autor, es un acto de subversión. Un recordatorio cáustico de que, a veces, la única manera de entender la locura de este mundo es con un toque de genio y mucha, mucha mierda de cerdo (metafórica, esperemos). Un genio o un lunático, como lo han llamado. Y lo más probable es que sea un híbrido desquiciado de ambos.
August 14, 2023
Leer esta breve "novela" es una experiencia cinematográfica, se siente en cada acapite los planos de cámara, la acción y los personajes irracionales. Sin duda, una gran lectura para salirse de la realidad. Eso si, tiene su buena dosis de violencia.
November 17, 2023
Reads like a film. You’ll see violence all around when you look up from its pages.
January 14, 2017
A bizarro, deleuzian prose poem. Fantastic!
October 5, 2013
Filmstrip inserted into the projector of the subconscious, the raw violence of a land where law has been murdered for the sake of art; “Peckinpah” is a beautiful Leone-Tarantino hybrid that might be a glimpse into the lingering fantasies—or nightmares—of artistic vision desensitized and transfigured by shades of blood in the glare of a rising sun. The “philosophy” of ultraviolence is more about the poetry of ultraviolence—the aesthetics of prose and chaos swirling through sentences that are chapters, or chapters that become sentences. D. Harlan Wilson has constructed a wonderfully designed piece of art—it almost doesn’t make sense to say that he’s “written” a great story.
There is indeed a story and a plot—it’s located in the synopsis on the back of the book, and in the description. To explain what Peckinpah is or means is to ruin the concept and scar its beauty. Wilson may have found a roll of film and described what he found on each frame. Our cultures is obsessed with violence and has been attempting to “remedy” the situation by blaming all the entertainment mediums rather than being held accountable for this question: Why do people want to buy it? In the wake of major video game releases that feature protagonists who can beat up police officers and soldiers who can kill random people with well-aimed headshots, I find it interesting that readers would find parts of this book funny. I perceived moments of ironic hilarity that might provoke laughter, but instead, I found myself wondering why I should think this is funny in the first place.
Several sentences are woven into the narrative that seem to bind the piece in a theater of splatter rather than a medium that’s exposed and “open”; I mean to say that the structure underlines, defies, and defines the properties of violent art and our attraction to it. This book, in its own way, is anti-art and anti-violence. This is one of those few works for which I might be able to write an entire essay; I could dissect individual phrases and deconstruct the book to find more depth and meaning, a sign that Wilson’s intelligent work can withstand the test of time.
Wilson may not have intended this to be anything more than an entertaining, wild ride through an ultraviolent-romance story. Part of the book’s package is the cover art—yeah, I’m analyzing the cover art, which seems to be “shot” from far away by the camera, rather than the extreme-close-ups Leone (and in homage, Tarantino) have used for dramatic purposes. This makes me think that Samson Thataway and the Fuming Garcias are the shark-toothed, metaphoric reflection of America’s chivalric knights (cowboys). Each chapter in this book is a poem, a swimming pool fool of blood that Plato and Aristotle would have jumped into without bathing suits.
There is indeed a story and a plot—it’s located in the synopsis on the back of the book, and in the description. To explain what Peckinpah is or means is to ruin the concept and scar its beauty. Wilson may have found a roll of film and described what he found on each frame. Our cultures is obsessed with violence and has been attempting to “remedy” the situation by blaming all the entertainment mediums rather than being held accountable for this question: Why do people want to buy it? In the wake of major video game releases that feature protagonists who can beat up police officers and soldiers who can kill random people with well-aimed headshots, I find it interesting that readers would find parts of this book funny. I perceived moments of ironic hilarity that might provoke laughter, but instead, I found myself wondering why I should think this is funny in the first place.
Several sentences are woven into the narrative that seem to bind the piece in a theater of splatter rather than a medium that’s exposed and “open”; I mean to say that the structure underlines, defies, and defines the properties of violent art and our attraction to it. This book, in its own way, is anti-art and anti-violence. This is one of those few works for which I might be able to write an entire essay; I could dissect individual phrases and deconstruct the book to find more depth and meaning, a sign that Wilson’s intelligent work can withstand the test of time.
Wilson may not have intended this to be anything more than an entertaining, wild ride through an ultraviolent-romance story. Part of the book’s package is the cover art—yeah, I’m analyzing the cover art, which seems to be “shot” from far away by the camera, rather than the extreme-close-ups Leone (and in homage, Tarantino) have used for dramatic purposes. This makes me think that Samson Thataway and the Fuming Garcias are the shark-toothed, metaphoric reflection of America’s chivalric knights (cowboys). Each chapter in this book is a poem, a swimming pool fool of blood that Plato and Aristotle would have jumped into without bathing suits.
November 17, 2010
Chaos, GOre, BLOod, Guts, small town truth ...I understand but yet I am lost. I think to understand this book and say that it makes complete sense is an insult. I think the truth is supposed to be felt from the images that assault your mind at a blinding rapid speed. I think small towns can hide the violence, the crime, the ugliness of human nature by ignoring the elephant in the room, attending church, and joining the country club to sip top shelf whiskey while thinking about your golf buddie's wife in the nude. I think that I really don't know what to think and that is the honest truth. I think the book should be read by those who love graphic novels and movies made in that image. I think the book is worth reading for the challenge if nothing else...I dare you.
If you choose to read this review please post your review of the book under my review in the comments section. Desperate to reflect about this book...which is why it is in the mail on the way to my friend who has the darkest humor out of anyone I know...
If you choose to read this review please post your review of the book under my review in the comments section. Desperate to reflect about this book...which is why it is in the mail on the way to my friend who has the darkest humor out of anyone I know...
October 24, 2012
He's easily one of my favorite authors, but I always feel like I've survived a Psychic War after reading one of D. Harlan's books. They are exhausting, but good for the [mental:] economy.
Peckinpah plays out like the manifestation of the collective conscious of the Amerikan Midwest if it were, at times, being raped by the collective unconscious of the same region after absorbing and integrating the mind of a man who is good with words.
If you've seen Frank Booth's intro in Blue Velvet, and thought "huh, that's weird," you've never tried to visualize the people of Dreamfield... or Pseudofoliculitis City, or Vulgaria... I have to imagine that it's what Hell must be like, though at the same time, I feel like it's always lurking behind the every-day faces in our every-day world.
Though Peckinpah seems like a quicker read than D. Harlan's other books, it's no less demanding. It's an uphill hike through some difficult terrain, but it's entirely worth it.
Peckinpah plays out like the manifestation of the collective conscious of the Amerikan Midwest if it were, at times, being raped by the collective unconscious of the same region after absorbing and integrating the mind of a man who is good with words.
If you've seen Frank Booth's intro in Blue Velvet, and thought "huh, that's weird," you've never tried to visualize the people of Dreamfield... or Pseudofoliculitis City, or Vulgaria... I have to imagine that it's what Hell must be like, though at the same time, I feel like it's always lurking behind the every-day faces in our every-day world.
Though Peckinpah seems like a quicker read than D. Harlan's other books, it's no less demanding. It's an uphill hike through some difficult terrain, but it's entirely worth it.
December 20, 2013
I really would have enjoyed this in my early-mid twenties, but I guess I am just boring in my old age. It was all a bit much for me. But it did read well, it never stalled. It was very visual and easy to picture and picture the characters and the settings. It was pretty in your face and brutal. It wasn't boring or bad, I guess the part of ultraviolence in the title should have clued me in. Not for me, but I do admit it was very well written. So if you want something edgy and in your face, this is the book for you.
August 3, 2016
I'll be honest and say I don't know what the hell was going on 100%, but I loved reading this! The shorter, choppier sentences mixed with the buckets of imagery and gore were beautifully perfect and reminded me of the cinematography in Natural Born Killers. Now I'll be seeking out more by D. Harlan Wilson, and there appears to thankfully be plenty to choose from.
September 16, 2010
Incredible. The only thing keeping me from being very sad that I'm finished with this book is knowing there are a bunch more of his books I haven't read yet.
February 4, 2010
Deliciously irreal take on life in the midwest U.S. Don't be put off by the "ultraviolence" reference -- this is a must-read for fans of Bizarro/surreal/irreal texts.
August 3, 2011
One of the best best Bizarrio novels that i have read so far.
Want to read
July 14, 2010Looks like this would be a terrific read, and RIGHT up my alley. Can't wait to get my hands on a copy.
November 15, 2010
It was a hard read, but actually really interesting once I understood the author's concept.
January 14, 2011
Bloody brilliant.
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