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Black Devil Spine: The Martin Springer Story
Dan Gere is a bestselling author in desperate need of another book idea. When he meets Martin Springer, a reclusive painter and fetish photographer, it seems he has discovered the solution to his problem. What follows, however, is a sickening descent into insanity, sexual violence and depravity like few have ever witnessed. Erotophonophilia, autassassinophilia, biastophilia-a deadly trio of paraphilias where normality does not apply and desire is synonymous with death. Some victims are more willing than others …
460 pages, Paperback
Published February 17, 2016
7 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
August 1, 2017
(Some slight spoilers)
I read Doug Brunell’s Black Devil Spine one year ago while I was working at a local festival. It had been sitting on my nightstand, glaring at me, daring me to read it, even though it wasn’t the sort of book I normally read. Sexually explicit stress-out suspense book? No thanks. Yet there it was, mocking me to read it.
Once I picked it up, the damned thing wouldn't let go of me. It took up every spare moment I had for two days. I then passed it to one of my co-workers who brought it back to me a day later, shaking her head and stammering, “That was a contagious read. I couldn’t stop.” When she eventually looked me in the eye, I could tell that she too was changed by reading this novel - that she too was doubting herself just a little, and asking herself “What is wrong with me? Why did I enjoy reading this?”
So, what is it about Black Devil Spine that is so difficult? Was it the brutality? Sure, that’s part of it. The author’s style relentlessly gut-punches the sensibilities of the reader, and is engrossingly graphic. But there is something else… ...an uneasy, greasy marinade this story has been dipped in.
The strength of the novel was the relationship between the two main characters. At first, it seems painfully obvious which person was the antagonist, and which was the one the reader should be pulling for. Yet, as the story goes on, it almost seems like like there was no protagonist anymore. The narrator shifted subtly over time, switching from an empty shell of a person to becoming an amoral entity, and his own worst enemy. The antagonist maintained a model of deluded self-liberation, countered with an almost respectable passion for life.
The book does weaken when it came to some of the ancillary characters. One in particular, a vagabond working in the local drug trade, felt steeped in stereotypes.
The potency of the novel overcomes any shortcomings. It left me questioning my own morality, as I searched for the cuts I felt opening up all over myself after reading it. The wounds could not be found because all of the bruising was internal.
One year later, I can still feel them.
I read Doug Brunell’s Black Devil Spine one year ago while I was working at a local festival. It had been sitting on my nightstand, glaring at me, daring me to read it, even though it wasn’t the sort of book I normally read. Sexually explicit stress-out suspense book? No thanks. Yet there it was, mocking me to read it.
Once I picked it up, the damned thing wouldn't let go of me. It took up every spare moment I had for two days. I then passed it to one of my co-workers who brought it back to me a day later, shaking her head and stammering, “That was a contagious read. I couldn’t stop.” When she eventually looked me in the eye, I could tell that she too was changed by reading this novel - that she too was doubting herself just a little, and asking herself “What is wrong with me? Why did I enjoy reading this?”
So, what is it about Black Devil Spine that is so difficult? Was it the brutality? Sure, that’s part of it. The author’s style relentlessly gut-punches the sensibilities of the reader, and is engrossingly graphic. But there is something else… ...an uneasy, greasy marinade this story has been dipped in.
The strength of the novel was the relationship between the two main characters. At first, it seems painfully obvious which person was the antagonist, and which was the one the reader should be pulling for. Yet, as the story goes on, it almost seems like like there was no protagonist anymore. The narrator shifted subtly over time, switching from an empty shell of a person to becoming an amoral entity, and his own worst enemy. The antagonist maintained a model of deluded self-liberation, countered with an almost respectable passion for life.
The book does weaken when it came to some of the ancillary characters. One in particular, a vagabond working in the local drug trade, felt steeped in stereotypes.
The potency of the novel overcomes any shortcomings. It left me questioning my own morality, as I searched for the cuts I felt opening up all over myself after reading it. The wounds could not be found because all of the bruising was internal.
One year later, I can still feel them.
June 8, 2019
This is a gem
December 16, 2024
Most fucked up book i’ve ever read. Can’t comfortably give it more than 3 stars but this book had me on the edge of my seat with disgust and horror.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews