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Galilee
Galilee
Rich and powerful, the Geary dynasty has reigned over American society for decades. But it is a family with dark, terrible secrets. For the Gearys are a family at war. Their adversaries are the Barbarossas, a clan whose timeless origins lie in myth, whose mystical influence is felt in intense, sensual exchanges of flesh and soul. Now their battle is about to escalate.When Galilee, prodigal prince of the Barbarossa clan, meets Rachel, the young bride of the Gearys' own scion Mitchell, they fall in love, consumed by a passion that unleashes long-simmering hatred. Old insanities arise, old adulteries are uncovered, and a seemingly invincible family will begin to wither, exposing its unholy roots...
582 pages, Paperback
First published May 19, 1998
172 people are currently reading
3232 people want to read
About the author
Clive Barker
703 books15.2k followersClive Barker was born in Liverpool, England, the son of Joan Rubie (née Revill), a painter and school welfare officer, and Leonard Barker, a personnel director for an industrial relations firm. Educated at Dovedale Primary School and Quarry Bank High School, he studied English and Philosophy at Liverpool University and his picture now hangs in the entrance hallway to the Philosophy Department. It was in Liverpool in 1975 that he met his first partner, John Gregson, with whom he lived until 1986. Barker's second long-term relationship, with photographer David Armstrong, ended in 2009.
In 2003, Clive Barker received The Davidson/Valentini Award at the 15th GLAAD Media Awards. This award is presented "to an openly lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender individual who has made a significant difference in promoting equal rights for any of those communities". While Barker is critical of organized religion, he has stated that he is a believer in both God and the afterlife, and that the Bible influences his work.
Fans have noticed of late that Barker's voice has become gravelly and coarse. He says in a December 2008 online interview that this is due to polyps in his throat which were so severe that a doctor told him he was taking in ten percent of the air he was supposed to have been getting. He has had two surgeries to remove them and believes his resultant voice is an improvement over how it was prior to the surgeries. He said he did not have cancer and has given up cigars. On August 27, 2010, Barker underwent surgery yet again to remove new polyp growths from his throat. In early February 2012 Barker fell into a coma after a dentist visit led to blood poisoning. Barker remained in a coma for eleven days but eventually came out of it. Fans were notified on his Twitter page about some of the experience and that Barker was recovering after the ordeal, but left with many strange visions.
Barker is one of the leading authors of contemporary horror/fantasy, writing in the horror genre early in his career, mostly in the form of short stories (collected in Books of Blood 1 – 6), and the Faustian novel The Damnation Game (1985). Later he moved towards modern-day fantasy and urban fantasy with horror elements in Weaveworld (1987), The Great and Secret Show (1989), the world-spanning Imajica (1991) and Sacrament (1996), bringing in the deeper, richer concepts of reality, the nature of the mind and dreams, and the power of words and memories.
Barker has a keen interest in movie production, although his films have received mixed receptions. He wrote the screenplays for Underworld (aka Transmutations – 1985) and Rawhead Rex (1986), both directed by George Pavlou. Displeased by how his material was handled, he moved to directing with Hellraiser (1987), based on his novella The Hellbound Heart. His early movies, the shorts The Forbidden and Salome, are experimental art movies with surrealist elements, which have been re-released together to moderate critical acclaim. After his film Nightbreed (Cabal), which was widely considered to be a flop, Barker returned to write and direct Lord of Illusions. Barker was an executive producer of the film Gods and Monsters, which received major critical acclaim.
Barker is a prolific visual artist working in a variety of media, often illustrating his own books. His paintings have been seen first on the covers of his official fan club magazine, Dread, published by Fantaco in the early Nineties, as well on the covers of the collections of his plays, Incarnations (1995) and Forms of Heaven (1996), as well as on the second printing of the original UK publications of his Books of Blood series.
A longtime comics fan, Barker achieved his dream of publishing his own superhero books when Marvel Comics launched the Razorline imprint in 1993. Based on detailed premises, titles and lead characters he created specifically for this, the four interrelated titles — set outside the Marvel universe — were Ectokid,
In 2003, Clive Barker received The Davidson/Valentini Award at the 15th GLAAD Media Awards. This award is presented "to an openly lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender individual who has made a significant difference in promoting equal rights for any of those communities". While Barker is critical of organized religion, he has stated that he is a believer in both God and the afterlife, and that the Bible influences his work.
Fans have noticed of late that Barker's voice has become gravelly and coarse. He says in a December 2008 online interview that this is due to polyps in his throat which were so severe that a doctor told him he was taking in ten percent of the air he was supposed to have been getting. He has had two surgeries to remove them and believes his resultant voice is an improvement over how it was prior to the surgeries. He said he did not have cancer and has given up cigars. On August 27, 2010, Barker underwent surgery yet again to remove new polyp growths from his throat. In early February 2012 Barker fell into a coma after a dentist visit led to blood poisoning. Barker remained in a coma for eleven days but eventually came out of it. Fans were notified on his Twitter page about some of the experience and that Barker was recovering after the ordeal, but left with many strange visions.
Barker is one of the leading authors of contemporary horror/fantasy, writing in the horror genre early in his career, mostly in the form of short stories (collected in Books of Blood 1 – 6), and the Faustian novel The Damnation Game (1985). Later he moved towards modern-day fantasy and urban fantasy with horror elements in Weaveworld (1987), The Great and Secret Show (1989), the world-spanning Imajica (1991) and Sacrament (1996), bringing in the deeper, richer concepts of reality, the nature of the mind and dreams, and the power of words and memories.
Barker has a keen interest in movie production, although his films have received mixed receptions. He wrote the screenplays for Underworld (aka Transmutations – 1985) and Rawhead Rex (1986), both directed by George Pavlou. Displeased by how his material was handled, he moved to directing with Hellraiser (1987), based on his novella The Hellbound Heart. His early movies, the shorts The Forbidden and Salome, are experimental art movies with surrealist elements, which have been re-released together to moderate critical acclaim. After his film Nightbreed (Cabal), which was widely considered to be a flop, Barker returned to write and direct Lord of Illusions. Barker was an executive producer of the film Gods and Monsters, which received major critical acclaim.
Barker is a prolific visual artist working in a variety of media, often illustrating his own books. His paintings have been seen first on the covers of his official fan club magazine, Dread, published by Fantaco in the early Nineties, as well on the covers of the collections of his plays, Incarnations (1995) and Forms of Heaven (1996), as well as on the second printing of the original UK publications of his Books of Blood series.
A longtime comics fan, Barker achieved his dream of publishing his own superhero books when Marvel Comics launched the Razorline imprint in 1993. Based on detailed premises, titles and lead characters he created specifically for this, the four interrelated titles — set outside the Marvel universe — were Ectokid,
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 308 reviews
August 25, 2016
so it took over 400 pages before I finally gave up. should I congratulate myself for making such a colossal effort or should I be ashamed at the colossal waste of time? I think shame is the appropriate emotion. it feels like I've watched Clive Barker jacking off for over 400 minutes, finding myself occasionally interested but mainly bored and annoyed, and then just walked away before Clive climaxed. for shame, mark, for shame! shame on you for wasting so much time and shame on you again for writing such a disagreeable analogy. now I have an image of Barker jerking away, on and on and on, and that image will probably haunt my dreams tonight. thanks a lot, Clive Barker mark!
imagine someone telling you about an amazing mansion in Louisiana, in the middle of a swamp, populated by supernatural presences and immortal aristocrats and hyenas on the lawn and porcupines up the stairs. now imagine eagerly going into that mansion, only to find that it's actually some shitty apartment building that is completely empty of both atmosphere and mystery. ugh!
imagine hearing about a fascinating celebrity couple, or a mysterious matriarch, or this compelling person or that intriguing personality. imagine meeting them and realizing they are completely flat and boring - and that they have nothing of interest to say. not only do they have no depth whatsoever, whenever they open their mouths all that comes out are the most banal and crass comments imaginable. ugh!
several scenes take place in a Trump Tower penthouse. after some careful reflection (about 2 minutes worth plus a couple swigs of my whiskey & ginger ale), I've realized that is a perfect location for this book. much like Trump himself, the book is a hollow, bloated monstrosity that wants to have something to say but can only speak in crass banalities. ugh!
the book is about the history of two families, one immortal and supernatural, the other a lot like the Kennedys (I suppose). it did have potential, I will give it that.
imagine someone telling you about an amazing mansion in Louisiana, in the middle of a swamp, populated by supernatural presences and immortal aristocrats and hyenas on the lawn and porcupines up the stairs. now imagine eagerly going into that mansion, only to find that it's actually some shitty apartment building that is completely empty of both atmosphere and mystery. ugh!
imagine hearing about a fascinating celebrity couple, or a mysterious matriarch, or this compelling person or that intriguing personality. imagine meeting them and realizing they are completely flat and boring - and that they have nothing of interest to say. not only do they have no depth whatsoever, whenever they open their mouths all that comes out are the most banal and crass comments imaginable. ugh!
several scenes take place in a Trump Tower penthouse. after some careful reflection (about 2 minutes worth plus a couple swigs of my whiskey & ginger ale), I've realized that is a perfect location for this book. much like Trump himself, the book is a hollow, bloated monstrosity that wants to have something to say but can only speak in crass banalities. ugh!
the book is about the history of two families, one immortal and supernatural, the other a lot like the Kennedys (I suppose). it did have potential, I will give it that.
August 18, 2024
The thing about Clive Barker, is that not only is he one of the best horror writers of all time, he's absolutely one of the best fantasy writers of all time.
Wait, I forgot. This is my review. I get to say what I want. The New York Times can't hurt me anymore.
Okay. Clive Barker's the best fantasy writer of the last 40 years.
EAT IT, NEW YORK TIMES.
If we went to an alternate reality where Clive Barker never existed and you took any modern fantasy writer and they produced Weaveworld, Imajica, Thief of Always, Great and Secret Show, Everville, Galilee, Sacrament, Cabal and the Abarat series? They would be hailed as a mad genius. Not just good or even great, but a truly, deeply, mad genius.
Youtube and Tiktok would be full of never-ending praise for them.
Weaveworld and Imajica don't have sequels and don't need them and are both so far ahead of the curve that writers like Neil Gaiman and Alan Moore are still struggling to catch up to them 40 years later.
And FYI: They never will. Never.
And it's not because those writers aren't extremely talented.
Alan Moore's monstrous Jerusalem is a deeply impressive fantasy work trying to describe his place in the world. It is very much following in the footsteps of Barker. It's a personal work that spans dimensions and time and tumbles with Gods and Demons and sexuality and culture and politics. And it's over a thousand pages long. It demands serious commitment from the reader (and the critic). But it feels tiny compared to Imajica.
Thin. Gossamer.
Both in scope and in empathy.
There are fantasy series that span dozens of books and sometimes even multiple different worlds that feel tiny compared to what Clive Barker regularly writes. Many fantasy authors are constantly reaching to describe and explain something that Barker expresses naturally. Instinctively.
Most writers create fantasy like they're tourists. Where every landmark fills the audience with awe, and every tree is "the biggest and most beautiful tree you've ever seen". Clive Barker writes fantasy like a person who lives in that world (because I believe he does). He takes the reader to the hidden spots where the tourists never go. He lets you soak in the character and the ambience of a place. The wonder and awe isn't from scale but from how relatable the utterly strange can feel when it's seen from the right perspective. How a different world can feel like home in a heartbeat. Like something you forgot, but never left.
That's what Barker's fantasy feels like.
Barker's monsters and myth seem completely natural. His gods and goddesses and spirits and creatures are at once like us, but also alien. Like wild animals. Things of a different nature, but they still have a sense of nature to them. They still belong to a world and are entangled in its laws (both spoken and not), even if we don't understand that world. We see them orbiting it. Expressing it.
This kind of writing reflects the ancient gods of actual mythology.
The Greek legends (which are often compared to superheroes) were not simply about 'humans' with powers. Their gods embodied forces of nature and the world. Those forces were woven into those gods actions and identity and stories. The gods entire myth became an expression of the laws they embodied. Their stories became both literal and metaphor.
Take for example: Ares as the God of bloody conflict and war. He was not an unstoppable warrior as he is often portrayed in modern media (which is kinda ironic if you think about how deceptive our culture is about war, we are telling the truth even when we are lying). Ares was vain and childish, seeking victory and constantly finding embarrassment. Every conquest from the physical to the sexual met with humiliation and defeat. He was crushed at Troy by Athena, beaten by mortals, scolded by Zeus and Hera, captured sleeping with his own sister by Hephaestus and put on display for the other gods like a trophy.
Because war is vanity. War is impulsive. Often crushed by wisdom, authority and maturity. Its greatest victories becoming nothing but a hollow trophy to be laughed at. Its unbridled ego often racing into its own hubris. Promising its soldiers glory, power and immortality but often delivering nothing but poverty, sadness and crippling humiliation. That is the nature of bloody conflict, that is the nature of combat and that is the nature of war.
And so the god of war embodies the nature of war.
The same is true with Clive Barker's gods, goddesses, angels, spirits and entities. They embody the nature of their own worlds. From the Cenobites offering enlightenment through self-destruction to Imajica's broken god Hapexamendios to Weaveworld's lonely burning Scourge and the ravaged sorceress Immacolata the Incantatrix.
And with this novel we have the wandering immortal storyteller Galilee. Themselves a story that belongs to many and nobody all at once.
Like all stories, really.
Galilee is like the waves he rides to escape his own history. He is fluid. Dark and deep, giving and taking. He is a trickster, entertainer and artist, both heartbroken and yearning for love. Romancing and loving women and men and making them feel whole, only to depart suddenly, like the end of a story, creating a sense of loss and a hunger for more.
Galilee is a book about two families. One searching for power. The other power incarnate. And how those who search for power and have power are often the weakest and most vulnerable of all.
It is a sprawling, spinning narrative, swimming in barely seen myths and stories built upon stories. Fae and Faustian pacts. Business deals and occult power.
It is a tale bringing together many tangential elements and influences into a strange mixture of crumbling dynasties and hidden centuries.
It is about gods and humans. It is about American royalty and celebrities, and the broken facades of modern fairy-tale Disney romances. Where wealthy princes and girls from humble beginnings find love only to uncover that happily ever-after comes with a terrible price.
And it is a story of a secret kept between rich and powerful women. A place where they meet a strange fae lover, brought in on the seas, to heal and entrance and tell them stories. To restore them. A lover that has acted as a bridge between a world of cut-throat politics and a family of entities that no amount of political and economic hubris dare to challenge.
A tale of two families that have orbited each other for decades and are finally colliding with a cataclysmic storm of passion, delusion and savage jealousy.
This book is one of my all-time favourite novels. And I rarely recommend it to friends. Partly because I want to hoard it. I think. Also because I find it difficult.
It's one of the few novels I think is actually challenging. There are many novels I've been told are 'difficult reads' that I found easy, almost simplistic. The majority of what's called 'difficult' in literature is just novels that have flowery prose or different grammar, different styles of narrative, tangential storytelling or are simply puns stacked onto puns to the point where they become an impenetrable language of in-jokes.
But I've never found such things hard to read.
Galilee is a gorgeously written prose, that is doing something altogether different than just playing with narrative tricks, cultural asides and in-jokes. Barker's devising a vocabulary of the fantastic. He's completely building a new kind of fantasy, or resurrecting one that's very, very old. Or both at the same time. He's layering ancient myth on top of other ancient myths and then weaving them into the folklore of American celebrity culture and history. This book is a bit Tuatha Dé Danann, and it is a bit Kennedy dynasty.
And there's Arthurian mythos.
A little Morgan. A little Mordred. A little Marilyn Monroe.
Bringing these mythologies together is like Godzilla fighting Cthulhu. You could argue they're nearly identical creatures from a certain point of view. But trying to bring them together creates a sort of tonal dissonance that shouldn't work.
But here, it does.
Suddenly and beautifully Barker rings the bells and brings the myths together. And they fit, like they were always meant to fit. The two mythologies fuck. They intermingle, they join together, both literally and metaphorically.
This is a story of the writing of a story, about a being who is a story, who exists as link between two worlds of stories.
It has a bizarre elemental potency. And the nature of it makes my head feel like it's gonna implode. Like the pressure of coming up too quickly from out of deep water.
It reminds me the most of Murakami and Ishiguro at their best. It's a story for people who are ready for something that's so well designed it appears random. Or is so random, it appears well designed.
When I sat down to write this review, I kept having to re-write it, because no matter what I was saying, it was too small to tackle the larger subject matter. This is a book that demands an exhaustive discussion. Not necessarily an analysis. I'm not trying to get to Clive's secret heart and expose it. I would need a knife and a decent bone hammer for that. But I'm trying to wrestle with the book. I'm trying to pin it down. And it's like trying to hold water in your arms. It can't be done alone. It needs another body. It cannot be just one disabled fart sitting in a chair and talking to the void.
A blank screen makes for a terrible conversationalist (sometimes).
But that inability to truly wrestle with the entirety of this book does not make me love it less, if anything it makes me love it more. Because a great story is never truly finished with the reader. In fact the best stories don't always have to end. And our love affairs with those stories can continue as long as our passion burns and we remember their name.
And so we pass great stories to others. Like a trusted confidant. Like a secret lover. And with each new reader, the story grows and a new passion is kindled and that fire lights the way for another.
10/10
Wait, I forgot. This is my review. I get to say what I want. The New York Times can't hurt me anymore.
Okay. Clive Barker's the best fantasy writer of the last 40 years.
EAT IT, NEW YORK TIMES.
If we went to an alternate reality where Clive Barker never existed and you took any modern fantasy writer and they produced Weaveworld, Imajica, Thief of Always, Great and Secret Show, Everville, Galilee, Sacrament, Cabal and the Abarat series? They would be hailed as a mad genius. Not just good or even great, but a truly, deeply, mad genius.
Youtube and Tiktok would be full of never-ending praise for them.
Weaveworld and Imajica don't have sequels and don't need them and are both so far ahead of the curve that writers like Neil Gaiman and Alan Moore are still struggling to catch up to them 40 years later.
And FYI: They never will. Never.
And it's not because those writers aren't extremely talented.
Alan Moore's monstrous Jerusalem is a deeply impressive fantasy work trying to describe his place in the world. It is very much following in the footsteps of Barker. It's a personal work that spans dimensions and time and tumbles with Gods and Demons and sexuality and culture and politics. And it's over a thousand pages long. It demands serious commitment from the reader (and the critic). But it feels tiny compared to Imajica.
Thin. Gossamer.
Both in scope and in empathy.
There are fantasy series that span dozens of books and sometimes even multiple different worlds that feel tiny compared to what Clive Barker regularly writes. Many fantasy authors are constantly reaching to describe and explain something that Barker expresses naturally. Instinctively.
Most writers create fantasy like they're tourists. Where every landmark fills the audience with awe, and every tree is "the biggest and most beautiful tree you've ever seen". Clive Barker writes fantasy like a person who lives in that world (because I believe he does). He takes the reader to the hidden spots where the tourists never go. He lets you soak in the character and the ambience of a place. The wonder and awe isn't from scale but from how relatable the utterly strange can feel when it's seen from the right perspective. How a different world can feel like home in a heartbeat. Like something you forgot, but never left.
That's what Barker's fantasy feels like.
Barker's monsters and myth seem completely natural. His gods and goddesses and spirits and creatures are at once like us, but also alien. Like wild animals. Things of a different nature, but they still have a sense of nature to them. They still belong to a world and are entangled in its laws (both spoken and not), even if we don't understand that world. We see them orbiting it. Expressing it.
This kind of writing reflects the ancient gods of actual mythology.
The Greek legends (which are often compared to superheroes) were not simply about 'humans' with powers. Their gods embodied forces of nature and the world. Those forces were woven into those gods actions and identity and stories. The gods entire myth became an expression of the laws they embodied. Their stories became both literal and metaphor.
Take for example: Ares as the God of bloody conflict and war. He was not an unstoppable warrior as he is often portrayed in modern media (which is kinda ironic if you think about how deceptive our culture is about war, we are telling the truth even when we are lying). Ares was vain and childish, seeking victory and constantly finding embarrassment. Every conquest from the physical to the sexual met with humiliation and defeat. He was crushed at Troy by Athena, beaten by mortals, scolded by Zeus and Hera, captured sleeping with his own sister by Hephaestus and put on display for the other gods like a trophy.
Because war is vanity. War is impulsive. Often crushed by wisdom, authority and maturity. Its greatest victories becoming nothing but a hollow trophy to be laughed at. Its unbridled ego often racing into its own hubris. Promising its soldiers glory, power and immortality but often delivering nothing but poverty, sadness and crippling humiliation. That is the nature of bloody conflict, that is the nature of combat and that is the nature of war.
And so the god of war embodies the nature of war.
The same is true with Clive Barker's gods, goddesses, angels, spirits and entities. They embody the nature of their own worlds. From the Cenobites offering enlightenment through self-destruction to Imajica's broken god Hapexamendios to Weaveworld's lonely burning Scourge and the ravaged sorceress Immacolata the Incantatrix.
And with this novel we have the wandering immortal storyteller Galilee. Themselves a story that belongs to many and nobody all at once.
Like all stories, really.
Galilee is like the waves he rides to escape his own history. He is fluid. Dark and deep, giving and taking. He is a trickster, entertainer and artist, both heartbroken and yearning for love. Romancing and loving women and men and making them feel whole, only to depart suddenly, like the end of a story, creating a sense of loss and a hunger for more.
Galilee is a book about two families. One searching for power. The other power incarnate. And how those who search for power and have power are often the weakest and most vulnerable of all.
It is a sprawling, spinning narrative, swimming in barely seen myths and stories built upon stories. Fae and Faustian pacts. Business deals and occult power.
It is a tale bringing together many tangential elements and influences into a strange mixture of crumbling dynasties and hidden centuries.
It is about gods and humans. It is about American royalty and celebrities, and the broken facades of modern fairy-tale Disney romances. Where wealthy princes and girls from humble beginnings find love only to uncover that happily ever-after comes with a terrible price.
And it is a story of a secret kept between rich and powerful women. A place where they meet a strange fae lover, brought in on the seas, to heal and entrance and tell them stories. To restore them. A lover that has acted as a bridge between a world of cut-throat politics and a family of entities that no amount of political and economic hubris dare to challenge.
A tale of two families that have orbited each other for decades and are finally colliding with a cataclysmic storm of passion, delusion and savage jealousy.
This book is one of my all-time favourite novels. And I rarely recommend it to friends. Partly because I want to hoard it. I think. Also because I find it difficult.
It's one of the few novels I think is actually challenging. There are many novels I've been told are 'difficult reads' that I found easy, almost simplistic. The majority of what's called 'difficult' in literature is just novels that have flowery prose or different grammar, different styles of narrative, tangential storytelling or are simply puns stacked onto puns to the point where they become an impenetrable language of in-jokes.
But I've never found such things hard to read.
Galilee is a gorgeously written prose, that is doing something altogether different than just playing with narrative tricks, cultural asides and in-jokes. Barker's devising a vocabulary of the fantastic. He's completely building a new kind of fantasy, or resurrecting one that's very, very old. Or both at the same time. He's layering ancient myth on top of other ancient myths and then weaving them into the folklore of American celebrity culture and history. This book is a bit Tuatha Dé Danann, and it is a bit Kennedy dynasty.
And there's Arthurian mythos.
A little Morgan. A little Mordred. A little Marilyn Monroe.
Bringing these mythologies together is like Godzilla fighting Cthulhu. You could argue they're nearly identical creatures from a certain point of view. But trying to bring them together creates a sort of tonal dissonance that shouldn't work.
But here, it does.
Suddenly and beautifully Barker rings the bells and brings the myths together. And they fit, like they were always meant to fit. The two mythologies fuck. They intermingle, they join together, both literally and metaphorically.
This is a story of the writing of a story, about a being who is a story, who exists as link between two worlds of stories.
It has a bizarre elemental potency. And the nature of it makes my head feel like it's gonna implode. Like the pressure of coming up too quickly from out of deep water.
It reminds me the most of Murakami and Ishiguro at their best. It's a story for people who are ready for something that's so well designed it appears random. Or is so random, it appears well designed.
When I sat down to write this review, I kept having to re-write it, because no matter what I was saying, it was too small to tackle the larger subject matter. This is a book that demands an exhaustive discussion. Not necessarily an analysis. I'm not trying to get to Clive's secret heart and expose it. I would need a knife and a decent bone hammer for that. But I'm trying to wrestle with the book. I'm trying to pin it down. And it's like trying to hold water in your arms. It can't be done alone. It needs another body. It cannot be just one disabled fart sitting in a chair and talking to the void.
A blank screen makes for a terrible conversationalist (sometimes).
But that inability to truly wrestle with the entirety of this book does not make me love it less, if anything it makes me love it more. Because a great story is never truly finished with the reader. In fact the best stories don't always have to end. And our love affairs with those stories can continue as long as our passion burns and we remember their name.
And so we pass great stories to others. Like a trusted confidant. Like a secret lover. And with each new reader, the story grows and a new passion is kindled and that fire lights the way for another.
10/10
December 3, 2015
I read this first when it came out, so this is a reread. My initial impression was of gods walking among us with a serious attempt to make old legends real. I recognized Dumuzi/Tammuz right off the bat and was enchanted. I had been doing a Barker marathon at the time, so I was really into the meandering and directionless text. He always got somewhere in the end, so I my faith was strong.
This second read showed me how much more mythology I now know and reaffirmed my belief that Barker was a bit more accomplished in the realm of practicing magick. I always guessed as much back in the day, but now I can point to a hell of a lot of interesting factoids. I won't do that here. I'm sure it would bore most anyone to death. Suffice to say, I *still* think this book is one hell of a meandering ride.
Do you like to read about two great families, with a lot of interesting history between them? Check. Do you love magical realism? Check.
Do you love novels that sincerely try to give you a bit of everything, trying to bring the novel truly alive with all the foibles of gods and humans? I don't say this lightly. I'm really saying that it tries to bring together love and hate, ennui and passion, romance and intellect, immortality and guttering flames, and even potence and impotence. The pieces are everywhere, and Barker consistently brings them all self-consciously to the fore through his narrator, rising from self-satisfied indolence to an interest and a restored passion for exploring life.
Even the narrator has a hard time pulling all the pieces together, and honestly, I think Barker was speaking to us all, directly. It was a truly huge novel in all it tried to accomplish. It had such a huge cast even while ostensibly remaining a revenge tale couched within an epic romance.
I knew what to expect, so I didn't expect a polished flow or even a real thread of a plot until late. It's just not what this novel was designed for.
It IS designed to throw you into such a deep and exploratory life among living gods, half-gods, and the Kennedy clan... oh wait.. I didn't mean that... that you as a reader aren't *meant* to do much else besides ride the boat of the novel and enjoy the lives and the scenery.
And that's fine. There's a lot to enjoy.
It's really hard to put my finger on exactly what I like most about it. I know I like it. I think it's mostly the whole cloth, the tapestry and the weave, that I most appreciate. The hundreds of smaller aspects only serve to bolster the feel of the whole, while never striking me over the head with it's importance, save for a few endgame plot-worthy scenes, of course.
I really do love a happy ending, though, and I had been noticing that Barker's concurrent works were all inching toward the same conclusions. A true departure from the horror I knew and love, in other words.
I do recall that I pointed myself back to this and another of Barker's works as an obvious precursor to American Gods. If it wasn't for things like this novel, I wouldn't have been so well primed to enjoy Gaiman's novel. (And it was only later than that when I finally picked up The Sandman, Vol. 1: Preludes and Nocturnes, so the whole cause/effect thing is hairy, anyway. I'm just spouting my impressions. Good impressions, I might add.)
Meandering can sometimes be a boon, and in my final estimate, this one pulled it off.
This second read showed me how much more mythology I now know and reaffirmed my belief that Barker was a bit more accomplished in the realm of practicing magick. I always guessed as much back in the day, but now I can point to a hell of a lot of interesting factoids. I won't do that here. I'm sure it would bore most anyone to death. Suffice to say, I *still* think this book is one hell of a meandering ride.
Do you like to read about two great families, with a lot of interesting history between them? Check. Do you love magical realism? Check.
Do you love novels that sincerely try to give you a bit of everything, trying to bring the novel truly alive with all the foibles of gods and humans? I don't say this lightly. I'm really saying that it tries to bring together love and hate, ennui and passion, romance and intellect, immortality and guttering flames, and even potence and impotence. The pieces are everywhere, and Barker consistently brings them all self-consciously to the fore through his narrator, rising from self-satisfied indolence to an interest and a restored passion for exploring life.
Even the narrator has a hard time pulling all the pieces together, and honestly, I think Barker was speaking to us all, directly. It was a truly huge novel in all it tried to accomplish. It had such a huge cast even while ostensibly remaining a revenge tale couched within an epic romance.
I knew what to expect, so I didn't expect a polished flow or even a real thread of a plot until late. It's just not what this novel was designed for.
It IS designed to throw you into such a deep and exploratory life among living gods, half-gods, and the Kennedy clan... oh wait.. I didn't mean that... that you as a reader aren't *meant* to do much else besides ride the boat of the novel and enjoy the lives and the scenery.
And that's fine. There's a lot to enjoy.
It's really hard to put my finger on exactly what I like most about it. I know I like it. I think it's mostly the whole cloth, the tapestry and the weave, that I most appreciate. The hundreds of smaller aspects only serve to bolster the feel of the whole, while never striking me over the head with it's importance, save for a few endgame plot-worthy scenes, of course.
I really do love a happy ending, though, and I had been noticing that Barker's concurrent works were all inching toward the same conclusions. A true departure from the horror I knew and love, in other words.
I do recall that I pointed myself back to this and another of Barker's works as an obvious precursor to American Gods. If it wasn't for things like this novel, I wouldn't have been so well primed to enjoy Gaiman's novel. (And it was only later than that when I finally picked up The Sandman, Vol. 1: Preludes and Nocturnes, so the whole cause/effect thing is hairy, anyway. I'm just spouting my impressions. Good impressions, I might add.)
Meandering can sometimes be a boon, and in my final estimate, this one pulled it off.
June 28, 2011
Galilee, for me, is Clive Barker at his storytelling best. It may not be as inventive as Cabal (Nightbreed), Imajica & Everville, or as mind-bending as The Hellbound Heart (Hellraiser), nor as imaginative as Weaveworld, but it’s the best written, the best ‘told’ story of all of his with elegant, seductive, magnetic prose that’s as smooth as butter. His prose in this book can make even the most boring, mundane things seem worthy of your attention.
It should be stated right up front Galilee is not a horror novel, at least nowhere in the singular sense (though it has parts that may certainly exist on the periphery of that description). It's a bit of a wonderful, odd beast. It's my favorite kind of tome, running the gamut of several flavors from epic saga, historical suspense, myth-making, inter-familial drama, forbidden romance, light metaphysics, a teasing amount of the supernatural (almost maddeningly understated) and, being a Barker story, a touch of the dark fantastic, naturally.
It's truly the hardest novel to nail down with a description that I've ever encountered, and I am honestly and thoroughly bummed that I have yet to encounter something of its ilk since. That's over a decade of let down. Thankfully it's so invitingly re-readable and continuously rewarding when you do so.
I love all the extraordinary elements . . . everything about the Barbarossa family, whom I did not ever think of as fantastical creations, but more supernatural. However, Barker wrote that Cesaria, the matriarch, was essentially a goddess-like being, more or less a demigoddess (in other words, she’s a direct descendant of, well, God) than a typical fantastical invention Barker is typically known for creating. Certainly a more metaphysical approach than his norm at the time. Like urban fantasy it’s a great merging of the mundane with the extraordinary.
As a writer, this book was such a defining, eye opening read for me. It was an “Ah, so THAT’S how you do it!” revelation. Part of that is due to the character-driven literary device he uses (kind of as a cheat) that allows him to tell a birds-eye view kind of sprawling epic story without sacrificing an ounce of the first-person intimacy since it comes from the MC's near-omniscient point of view. Yeah, it's a bit of a cheat, but damned effective. But I won't get more into that because it's a real treat of reading the novel and I’ve probably teased enough details.
After the book came out Barker mentioned a sequel one day that would essentially focus more on the Barbarossas instead of the Gearys, who get the bulk of the focus in this book. I so hope he gets around to it before he retires.
Note: I'm giving this book 5 stars because there is no option for 4 & 1/2 stars.
It should be stated right up front Galilee is not a horror novel, at least nowhere in the singular sense (though it has parts that may certainly exist on the periphery of that description). It's a bit of a wonderful, odd beast. It's my favorite kind of tome, running the gamut of several flavors from epic saga, historical suspense, myth-making, inter-familial drama, forbidden romance, light metaphysics, a teasing amount of the supernatural (almost maddeningly understated) and, being a Barker story, a touch of the dark fantastic, naturally.
It's truly the hardest novel to nail down with a description that I've ever encountered, and I am honestly and thoroughly bummed that I have yet to encounter something of its ilk since. That's over a decade of let down. Thankfully it's so invitingly re-readable and continuously rewarding when you do so.
I love all the extraordinary elements . . . everything about the Barbarossa family, whom I did not ever think of as fantastical creations, but more supernatural. However, Barker wrote that Cesaria, the matriarch, was essentially a goddess-like being, more or less a demigoddess (in other words, she’s a direct descendant of, well, God) than a typical fantastical invention Barker is typically known for creating. Certainly a more metaphysical approach than his norm at the time. Like urban fantasy it’s a great merging of the mundane with the extraordinary.
As a writer, this book was such a defining, eye opening read for me. It was an “Ah, so THAT’S how you do it!” revelation. Part of that is due to the character-driven literary device he uses (kind of as a cheat) that allows him to tell a birds-eye view kind of sprawling epic story without sacrificing an ounce of the first-person intimacy since it comes from the MC's near-omniscient point of view. Yeah, it's a bit of a cheat, but damned effective. But I won't get more into that because it's a real treat of reading the novel and I’ve probably teased enough details.
After the book came out Barker mentioned a sequel one day that would essentially focus more on the Barbarossas instead of the Gearys, who get the bulk of the focus in this book. I so hope he gets around to it before he retires.
Note: I'm giving this book 5 stars because there is no option for 4 & 1/2 stars.
October 30, 2007
Galilee is a strange book, and very hard to classify. It's a love story, sort of. It's a family history, sort of. It's a supernatural thriller, sort of. It's kind of all of those things and actually none, but that's what makes it such an interesting read.
The characters are intriguing, although not always likeable. Rachel in particular is deeply annoying; you get the impression that Clive Barker wants to make her compelling and sympathetic, but she just sort of ends up being whiny, spoiled, neurotic, and selfish. Still, the other characters more than make up for it, and there are plenty of other good, strong female characters to make up for Rachel. Which sort of begs the question, why was she so irritating, but that's hardly the point.
Barker has a wonderful way with words and an interesting method of storytelling, and this is by far my favorite of his books. It's not horror like his other novels - although it does have its moments - and the relative lack of disturbing imagery lets the story itself hold center stage.
Definitely one that's worth the read.
The characters are intriguing, although not always likeable. Rachel in particular is deeply annoying; you get the impression that Clive Barker wants to make her compelling and sympathetic, but she just sort of ends up being whiny, spoiled, neurotic, and selfish. Still, the other characters more than make up for it, and there are plenty of other good, strong female characters to make up for Rachel. Which sort of begs the question, why was she so irritating, but that's hardly the point.
Barker has a wonderful way with words and an interesting method of storytelling, and this is by far my favorite of his books. It's not horror like his other novels - although it does have its moments - and the relative lack of disturbing imagery lets the story itself hold center stage.
Definitely one that's worth the read.
July 23, 2012
It’s a real shame that the likes of Jackie Collins and Danielle Steel are the ones who get the mini-series. As if ever a book deserved to have some big, sprawling six hour epic based on it – it’s Clive Barker’s ‘Galilee’. Following the fortunes of two strangely interconnected families (one oh so mortal; the other oh so immortal), the narrative swoops through history conjuring grand passions, horrific feuds and the nature of fame and power in the United States. This is a magical book, which is genuinely jaw dropping in scope of ambition and imagination. In short, it’s a grand soap opera for genre fiction fans.
The Gearys and the Barbarosas are two legendary families who are interconnected in some strange and mysterious way. For years they have co-existed, but the ties that bind them are drawing closer, exposing old enmities and risking the likelihood of mutual destruction for both.
Apart from ‘The Hellbound Heart’ I’ve never really read anything by Barker. For whatever reason, the scale and scope of his tomes led me to believe they were closer to fantasy than horror (and fantasy is not a genre I am particularly fond of). But ‘Galilee’ really did blow my hardened and cynical – yet still white and cotton – socks off, proving a compulsive page turner that made me wish trains were late and tubes were cancelled so I’d have extra time to cram in even more of it in. Okay, the ending may have been a bit more abrupt than I’d have liked (although I am somewhat mollified to find that a sequel has been promised), but this epic and far dreaming storytelling at its best.
The Gearys and the Barbarosas are two legendary families who are interconnected in some strange and mysterious way. For years they have co-existed, but the ties that bind them are drawing closer, exposing old enmities and risking the likelihood of mutual destruction for both.
Apart from ‘The Hellbound Heart’ I’ve never really read anything by Barker. For whatever reason, the scale and scope of his tomes led me to believe they were closer to fantasy than horror (and fantasy is not a genre I am particularly fond of). But ‘Galilee’ really did blow my hardened and cynical – yet still white and cotton – socks off, proving a compulsive page turner that made me wish trains were late and tubes were cancelled so I’d have extra time to cram in even more of it in. Okay, the ending may have been a bit more abrupt than I’d have liked (although I am somewhat mollified to find that a sequel has been promised), but this epic and far dreaming storytelling at its best.
December 19, 2015
I had two reactions while reading this book - I absolutely loved parts of it, the way Clive Barker presented the story as told from the point of view of someone writing a book of the family saga. My favorite bits were these short breaks in Maddox's writing and how we got glimpses of the Barbarossa clan. I also enjoyed the Geary family saga for the most part. Interestingly, though, I did not care for the title character, Galilee, or Rachel, and their story line felt a bit forced to me. I also felt a bit of a let down at the ending, after the buildup and expectation of a huge confrontation between the two families. So, I waffled between 3 and 4 stars, but ultimately settled on 3 stars.
March 22, 2016
4.5 stars. I really like this novel. The Barbarossas are beyond fascinating and the Gearys are... quite nauseating, especially towards the end. I like Barker's ability to weave the real and fantastical together so neatly. Although the majority of the book revolves around Rachael and the Gearys, it's really the Barbarossas that provide all of the color when it comes to characters. They just make those super-rich, megalomaniacal Gearys look so damn boring. I could have easily read another couple hundred pages on these two clans.
This is one case where the narration didn't add to the book, although it was not actually bad.
This is one case where the narration didn't add to the book, although it was not actually bad.
September 10, 2010
I gave up on this one at page 110 because I just couldn't face another 500 pages of this high class drivel. Had I been actually reading this instead of listening to it in my car, I wouldn't have made it past the first chapter. I expected a sci-fi thriller from Clive Barker not this Kennedy-esque family saga. In the first 100 pages, there was everything from rape, sodomy, gays, lesbians, fights, infidelity, a religious zealot-a fishermen turned prophet. Yet even so, it was boring as hell. I've never been on to read the papers and magazines featuring the overly rich and aimless. This book is like following John Kennedy around and noting his every move and breath. Just too boring for words.
I know I'm not the only one who quit where I did, since I was forced to rewind tape three in order to listen to it so someone else gave up in the same spot. I kept going hoping it was eventually going to get exciting or something (anything) was going to happen. Finally I just could't listen to that monotonous narrator for even one more word.
I know I'm not the only one who quit where I did, since I was forced to rewind tape three in order to listen to it so someone else gave up in the same spot. I kept going hoping it was eventually going to get exciting or something (anything) was going to happen. Finally I just could't listen to that monotonous narrator for even one more word.
January 20, 2012
Much as I love Clive Barker's epic works of fantasy, 'Galilee' is the one that just doesn't work, as far as I'm concerned. The central premise is intriguing - the rich, powerful Geary family (heavily modelled on the Kennedys and presented as America's modern gods) are at war with the Barbarossas ('real' gods, as old as time), and when Rachel Geary falls in love with Galilee Barbarossa, their relationship threatens to destroy both families. But the Gearys somehow aren't evil enough, despite one of the sons having a penchant for necrophiliac fantasy in his sex games, the Barbaraossas are debauched but spoiled and petty, and what should be an all-encompassing love story at the novel's
heart fails because Galilee and Rachel just aren't that interesting as characters. Barker explores this clash of modern America and the supernatural to much better effect in 'Coldheart Canyon' - this books lacks the imaginatively gruesome power his prose achieves at his best.
heart fails because Galilee and Rachel just aren't that interesting as characters. Barker explores this clash of modern America and the supernatural to much better effect in 'Coldheart Canyon' - this books lacks the imaginatively gruesome power his prose achieves at his best.
January 23, 2016
A beautiful book that could only have been written by Clive Barker. I have come to believe that Barker identifies most strongly with his female characters in these epic fantasies. Rachel as she is held by her lover perhaps echoes Barker's yearning to be protected and possessed. Gender seems irrelevant in Barker's world, fluid, and I love letting the concept wash over my imagination like ocean waves as I read. The story untangles the knots between two great American families, one powered by greed and the other by something more primal and less human. I have no plan to include any spoilers here. The narrative is divine and to pull action from it would be pointless. Best to follow my recommendation and devour it yourself.
December 16, 2015
4.5 stars; for the last hundred pages or so I debated whether I would be rounding up to 5 or down to 4. I think I'm coming down on the side of 5...or...maybe 4. Yeah. I'm a waffler :)
Barker offers some truly wonderful character development and a unique take on the old "gods among us" theme. It's interesting that the two central characters -- Galilee and Rachel -- were by far the least compelling people in the story. The chapters dealing with their relationship were easily the low point of the book, in spite of Barker's talent at writing The Sexy Bits. The many side characters are what brought this tale to life.
Barker offers some truly wonderful character development and a unique take on the old "gods among us" theme. It's interesting that the two central characters -- Galilee and Rachel -- were by far the least compelling people in the story. The chapters dealing with their relationship were easily the low point of the book, in spite of Barker's talent at writing The Sexy Bits. The many side characters are what brought this tale to life.
December 7, 2013
I've read this book numerous times and I have come away from it with differing things each time. This time I found that I wasn't as enchanted with the story itself. Instead, I found that I was thinking more about the Divine and the ideas that the book delved into. And I'm not sure I could even tell you what those ideas are... :P
It's not a story told in a traditional fashion. It weaves between the present and past of the story without clearly demarcating which is which. I think that is part of why I love this book so much. I'm not sure that there is really anything that I can say about this book to do it real justice.
It's not a story told in a traditional fashion. It weaves between the present and past of the story without clearly demarcating which is which. I think that is part of why I love this book so much. I'm not sure that there is really anything that I can say about this book to do it real justice.
January 26, 2011
This is the third reading I’ve had of Galilee, and there are always subtle hints of the grander vision you might’ve missed on the first occasion. The prose is as succinct as ever – a svelte voice that changed the genre for the better all those years ago. As we saw the horror tale transferred from Transylvania to the suburbs with King, we then saw the metamorphosis climb even higher into other realms of possibility with Barker.
Called A Romance, and a shying away from the macabre even by Barker himself – the scholastic reader will still see the same transformations and darker tones everywhere … they’re just hidden behind the glaze of a more literary cover and an arc of story more mature in its pronouncements. Musicians evolve, as do writers … and I think it would underscore Barker as an artist if he had kept treading the same visions rooted in a tale like Weaveworld.
And it’s another epic, of course, worthy of eliciting a few tears from me within the final pages.
Called A Romance, and a shying away from the macabre even by Barker himself – the scholastic reader will still see the same transformations and darker tones everywhere … they’re just hidden behind the glaze of a more literary cover and an arc of story more mature in its pronouncements. Musicians evolve, as do writers … and I think it would underscore Barker as an artist if he had kept treading the same visions rooted in a tale like Weaveworld.
And it’s another epic, of course, worthy of eliciting a few tears from me within the final pages.
March 28, 2007
Favorite Quotes
Whatever capacity she possesses to supernaturally beguile a human soul—and she possesses many—she liked his clear-sightedness too well, to blind him that way.
Did I say that she was beautiful? I was wrong. Beauty is too tame a notion; it evokes only faces in magazines. A lovely eloquence, a calming symmetry; none of that describes this woman’s face. So perhaps I should assume I cannot do it justice with words. Suffice it to say that it would break your heart to see her; and it would mend what was broken in the same moment; and you would be twice what you’d been before.
The question that lay before me, and I had so far failed to answer, was the way these connections might best be expressed. My mind was filled with possibilities but I had no real sense of how all that I knew was arrayed and dispersed; no sense of the pattern.
Well, it was most likely too late; there would not be time for me to flagellate myself for every dishonorable deed in that list, nor any chance to make good the harms I’d done. Minor harms, to be sure, in the scheme of things; but large enough to regret.
Nothing happens carelessly. We’re not brought into the world without reason, even though we may never understand the reason. An infant that lives an hour, that dies before it can lay eyes on those who made it, even that soul did not live without purpose: this is my sudden certainty.
We have great cities to visit: New York and Washington, Paris and London; and further east, and older than any of these, the legendary city of Samarkand, whose crumbling palaces and mosques still welcome travelers on the Silk road. Weary of cities? Then we’ll take to the wilds. To the islands of Hawaii and the mountains of Japan, to forests where Civil War dead still lie, and stretches of sea no mariner ever crossed. They all have their poetry: the glittering cities and the ruined, the watery wastes and the dusty; I want to show you them all. I want to show you everything.
There must still be room for the falling note, of course. Even in an undying world there are times when beauty passes from sight, or love passes from the heart, and we feel the sorrow of partition.
Of course it’s the apparently tranquil periods that deceive us. Though our instruments or our senses or our wits may not be able to see the processes that are leading toward these clusters of events, they’re happening. The star, the wheel, the butterfly—all are in a subtle state of unrest, waiting for the moment when some invisible mechanism signals that the time has come. Then the star explodes; the wheel makes poor men rich; the butterfly mates and dies.
In this sense love is of a different order to any other phenomenon, for it may be both an event and a sign of that invisible mechanism I spoke of before; perhaps the finest sign, the most certain. In it’s throes we need neither luck nor science. We are the wheel, and the man who profits by it. We are the star, and the darkness it pierces. We are the butterfly, brief and beautiful.
…there’s nothing in the world more fun than doing something you’re good at.
Whatever capacity she possesses to supernaturally beguile a human soul—and she possesses many—she liked his clear-sightedness too well, to blind him that way.
Did I say that she was beautiful? I was wrong. Beauty is too tame a notion; it evokes only faces in magazines. A lovely eloquence, a calming symmetry; none of that describes this woman’s face. So perhaps I should assume I cannot do it justice with words. Suffice it to say that it would break your heart to see her; and it would mend what was broken in the same moment; and you would be twice what you’d been before.
The question that lay before me, and I had so far failed to answer, was the way these connections might best be expressed. My mind was filled with possibilities but I had no real sense of how all that I knew was arrayed and dispersed; no sense of the pattern.
Well, it was most likely too late; there would not be time for me to flagellate myself for every dishonorable deed in that list, nor any chance to make good the harms I’d done. Minor harms, to be sure, in the scheme of things; but large enough to regret.
Nothing happens carelessly. We’re not brought into the world without reason, even though we may never understand the reason. An infant that lives an hour, that dies before it can lay eyes on those who made it, even that soul did not live without purpose: this is my sudden certainty.
We have great cities to visit: New York and Washington, Paris and London; and further east, and older than any of these, the legendary city of Samarkand, whose crumbling palaces and mosques still welcome travelers on the Silk road. Weary of cities? Then we’ll take to the wilds. To the islands of Hawaii and the mountains of Japan, to forests where Civil War dead still lie, and stretches of sea no mariner ever crossed. They all have their poetry: the glittering cities and the ruined, the watery wastes and the dusty; I want to show you them all. I want to show you everything.
There must still be room for the falling note, of course. Even in an undying world there are times when beauty passes from sight, or love passes from the heart, and we feel the sorrow of partition.
Of course it’s the apparently tranquil periods that deceive us. Though our instruments or our senses or our wits may not be able to see the processes that are leading toward these clusters of events, they’re happening. The star, the wheel, the butterfly—all are in a subtle state of unrest, waiting for the moment when some invisible mechanism signals that the time has come. Then the star explodes; the wheel makes poor men rich; the butterfly mates and dies.
In this sense love is of a different order to any other phenomenon, for it may be both an event and a sign of that invisible mechanism I spoke of before; perhaps the finest sign, the most certain. In it’s throes we need neither luck nor science. We are the wheel, and the man who profits by it. We are the star, and the darkness it pierces. We are the butterfly, brief and beautiful.
…there’s nothing in the world more fun than doing something you’re good at.
April 13, 2009
Once again Clive Barker breaks away from the genre labelling tag of a ‘horror author’ for which he has been undeservingly stamped with since his early work. With Galilee, Barker takes to a new path with a beautifully written story of love that dances with the celestial and magical throughout. Indeed, elements of his past work such as ‘Sacrament’, ‘Imajica’ and dare I say even the ‘Book of The Art’ novels are clearly visible within this epic tale.
With an obvious dedication of passion and love to his lover David Armstrong, Barker has crafted a deeply emotional and poetic tale that delves the deepest Barker ever has to date, into the sheer importance of love, revenge, power and lust. Deliberately throwing added weight towards the emotional states of each character within the story, Barker brings out such full-bodied and life like characters that form the main crux of the tale.
Written by way of the hand of one of the books almost secondary characters, the story follows the lives of two powerful families, whose paths have intertwined throughout history. One of these families (the Barbarossa’s) is more godlike than they are human. The other family (the Geary’s) are extremely wealthy and powerful business men whose unsympathetic lives mirror that of many of the more dramatic circumstances that surround the storyline. One interlocking individual for the two families is the outcast by the name of Galilee. This character, to which the writer shows immense love for, was obviously based on Barker’s lover David Armstrong.
The flow of the storyline, the intertwining subplots, the poetic use of words throughout, and the magnificent characterization, all form the main thrust to the novel. The developing storyline, with its carefully constructed delivery (by way of a historical account of the two families), is mere mortar to the stonework that is the passion of each character within the tale.
Barker clearly took great joy in creating and developing on each one of the characters, setting down detailed histories for each, setting their individual places within the families and indeed the tale itself.
For imagination alone, ‘Galilee’ is a joyous novel to read, but with the carefully crafted and beautifully delivered love for each character, the novel as a whole is breathtaking. Indeed, this is not like any other piece of work by Barker, yet it still holds strange elements of many pieces of his work. Almost a contradiction in itself, but after reading the novel, I am sure that many of you will agree with that very statement.
The novel’s ending is extremely open, paving the way for the sequel which has a preliminary publication date of December 2009. Having just read the novel for the second time after a good ten years, I have once again fallen in love with each one of the characters that draw you deep into this magical story of romance and revenge.
The novel runs for a total of 804 pages and was released back in 1998.
With an obvious dedication of passion and love to his lover David Armstrong, Barker has crafted a deeply emotional and poetic tale that delves the deepest Barker ever has to date, into the sheer importance of love, revenge, power and lust. Deliberately throwing added weight towards the emotional states of each character within the story, Barker brings out such full-bodied and life like characters that form the main crux of the tale.
Written by way of the hand of one of the books almost secondary characters, the story follows the lives of two powerful families, whose paths have intertwined throughout history. One of these families (the Barbarossa’s) is more godlike than they are human. The other family (the Geary’s) are extremely wealthy and powerful business men whose unsympathetic lives mirror that of many of the more dramatic circumstances that surround the storyline. One interlocking individual for the two families is the outcast by the name of Galilee. This character, to which the writer shows immense love for, was obviously based on Barker’s lover David Armstrong.
The flow of the storyline, the intertwining subplots, the poetic use of words throughout, and the magnificent characterization, all form the main thrust to the novel. The developing storyline, with its carefully constructed delivery (by way of a historical account of the two families), is mere mortar to the stonework that is the passion of each character within the tale.
Barker clearly took great joy in creating and developing on each one of the characters, setting down detailed histories for each, setting their individual places within the families and indeed the tale itself.
For imagination alone, ‘Galilee’ is a joyous novel to read, but with the carefully crafted and beautifully delivered love for each character, the novel as a whole is breathtaking. Indeed, this is not like any other piece of work by Barker, yet it still holds strange elements of many pieces of his work. Almost a contradiction in itself, but after reading the novel, I am sure that many of you will agree with that very statement.
The novel’s ending is extremely open, paving the way for the sequel which has a preliminary publication date of December 2009. Having just read the novel for the second time after a good ten years, I have once again fallen in love with each one of the characters that draw you deep into this magical story of romance and revenge.
The novel runs for a total of 804 pages and was released back in 1998.
February 28, 2015
I love Clive Barker and I wish I could rate this book higher. That's why I like a nice 10 point rating system. Look, the only reason I give this three stars is because I just didn't really care so much about the story. Basically, the is about two rival families--kinda like the Ewings and the Barnes in "Dallas"--one family is your average rich well-to-do family of eccentrics, the other family is a set of demi-gods. These two families, and their past, is brought back to a boiling point when a woman gets between two men from both clans. The whole thing is tied together as one member from the demi-god family decides to write a book on the history of both families--past and present--focusing on the illusive and sea-faring, Galilee.
As with all Clive Barker books, the thing is very well written and has his distinct voice. But if you were expecting horror with this book you'll need to go back to his other stories. There's the traditional element of fantastique that he employees in all of his books but there are none of the Barker monsters that he has become none for. Sure there are some spirits and oddball otherworldly passages but, for the most part, it's a Hetfeild/McCoy type of read with an odd twist thrown in.
I just really wasn't that into the book. I'm not really into that type of story. It held my interest but I never really felt the need to keep picking it up to find out what happens. The characters were interesting and the story was well plotted. I really don't have any gripes about it besides the fact that the story just wasn't up my alley.
As with all Clive Barker books, the thing is very well written and has his distinct voice. But if you were expecting horror with this book you'll need to go back to his other stories. There's the traditional element of fantastique that he employees in all of his books but there are none of the Barker monsters that he has become none for. Sure there are some spirits and oddball otherworldly passages but, for the most part, it's a Hetfeild/McCoy type of read with an odd twist thrown in.
I just really wasn't that into the book. I'm not really into that type of story. It held my interest but I never really felt the need to keep picking it up to find out what happens. The characters were interesting and the story was well plotted. I really don't have any gripes about it besides the fact that the story just wasn't up my alley.
May 30, 2018
I love Clive Barker but he really couldn’t care less about character development. You could definitely say he compensates for this with his ability to craft other worlds, but being a person that really enjoys characters and needs to be invested in them to enjoy something, I found this hard to read. Rachel was extremely vapid and her becoming more gutsy over time wasn’t really enough to endear her to me. Had this book been cut in half, I think I would’ve enjoyed it more. There was a LOT of buildup to a very abrupt and unrewarding conclusion. Again, I typically enjoy Clive Barker very much, and while the lack of character depth in his books is not news to me, the story just didn’t make up for it this time because in the end, nothing really happened. It was largely a family history that could’ve been entertaining had the characters been interesting, but they were not. His writing is better suited for short stories and novellas that are less character driven, I think. An exception to that would be Coldheart Canyon, where the story is compelling enough that the more shallow characters can coast on it.
October 29, 2011
Great book, too meandering, bad sex.
Is that enough of a review? Clive Barker is heretofore irrevocably linked with Piers Anthony in my books as an author who adds usually bad and at times quite odd eroticism to keep people turning the pages. Not needed. The ideas behind this book can carry themselves. I really like the idea of taking great families and mingling their history with mythology. It is a timeless concept (Early Greek kings, Caesar, blah, blah and blah...it's been done) but indicative of a powerful drive to belong to something ancient and greater than ourselves and therefore quite moving.
Bottom line: This book does best when Mr. Barker digresses into fairy-tale type narratives and weaves stories. It has been quite a while since I read this book and certain scenes are still unbelievably vivid in my memory and that alone makes it a remarkable read.
Is that enough of a review? Clive Barker is heretofore irrevocably linked with Piers Anthony in my books as an author who adds usually bad and at times quite odd eroticism to keep people turning the pages. Not needed. The ideas behind this book can carry themselves. I really like the idea of taking great families and mingling their history with mythology. It is a timeless concept (Early Greek kings, Caesar, blah, blah and blah...it's been done) but indicative of a powerful drive to belong to something ancient and greater than ourselves and therefore quite moving.
Bottom line: This book does best when Mr. Barker digresses into fairy-tale type narratives and weaves stories. It has been quite a while since I read this book and certain scenes are still unbelievably vivid in my memory and that alone makes it a remarkable read.
October 12, 2016
Un talent comme celui de Clive Barker est indéniablement rare. Le pouvoir évocateur de sa plume est puissant ! Ses personnages sont humains et je me suis beaucoup attachée à eux pendant ma lecture. Rachel, en particulier, était un personnage féminin bien construit et par ses actes, ses pensées - vivante. En bref, ce roman est génial. je suis très contente de connaître cet auteur car à mon avis, ce n'est pas le dernier roman de lui que je pourrais avoir entre les mains. Stephen King disait : " Le talent de Clive Barker me laisse sans voix. Il donne l'impression que le reste d'entre nous n'a fait que dormir ces dix dernières années. Il a entièrement raison. Cet auteur a réussi à dessiner un monde grâce à son style... J'aurais pu encore rester auprès de Galilee et de Rachel un millier de pages, garder les images que Clive Barker projetait dans mon esprit. Magnifique !
August 14, 2023
Avoided this for years because it sounded like historical fiction and history is for boring losers. Turns out this one was good, so now I'm glad my insane prejudices left me with a new Clive Barker novel all these years later. Just as gory and gay as I'd expect from the master of forcing fetishes on an unsuspecting population.
October 4, 2020
My first Clive Barker novel. What a journey! I love how Barker has a way of creating characters with deep backstories. Somehow, this has been a bad year of reading. Not sure why. I've started three or four books only to put all of those down. I went out and bought some other Barker novels, so I'm going to make October all about him.
June 5, 2018
This is a colossal, meandering, multi-threaded book, and it could have been tedious, but within about 50 pages I was pretty much hooked. The magic/weird that would be found in something like Weaveworld is present but to a much lesser degree, making it cut more closely to magical realism, a genre I don't tend to favor, however the complexity of the characters and tangling of the various stories kept me intrigued. I tend to like Barker's writing style, and he has a way of making seemingly mundane events and settings pleasurable to read.
December 7, 2016
I count myself as a Barker fan, and having read Weaveworld and Imajica, it was time to devour yet another of his epic tomes. I found the plotline to be interesting from the very beginning, and in many ways a refreshing change in comparison to his previous two novels I've read. I liked how the magic and secrecies he deploys in his books were in Galilee centred in this world, rather than the imagined, parallel fantasy worlds of his earlier works. The book also unfolds in an unusual manner, as it appears to have been ghost-written by one of its characters, Maddox, who serves as the Barbarossa family chronicler, while resident in the mysterious house of 'L'Enfant'. The story is told in a conversational tone, with its imaginary author jumping between the present dramas of his palatial home, and the murky past in which the supernatural Barbarossas and the uber-rich Geary family intersect. Their long historical 'pact' is described through the weaving of seemingly unrelated threads and tales of the past, traversing epochs and regions of the world, in the hope of finding a unity in the book's final phases.
While Galilee is certainly interesting, and like any other Barker tale transports the reader into a heady and mystical vista, I found that the book left me wanting more. While the lives and conspirations of rich and eternal dynasties are alluring and fascinating, I found that the ways Galilee's characters and groups were linked were not as deep and dark as they could have been. I would also have liked to hear more about the dramas and history of the house of L'Enfant, and its tragic inhabitants, but this seemed to be an undeveloped aspect of the book. There was also an excessive preoccupation with sex and licentiousness, which was needlessly thrown into the narrative as a kind of shock tactic, and didn't really connect with the greater story or convey any deeper purpose or meaning. The obscure ties that the book describes between the Barbarossa and Geary families in the end seemed odd, but not as devastating or anguished as I would have expected, which led the story to a kind of flatline.
Despite its sundry obsessions and deficiencies, Galilee still speaks the language of the secretive and intoxicating worlds that Barker so beautifully creates, and once again opened my mind to those paths that lie beyond the ordinary. The integration of magic, prestige, and American culture was certainly fascinating and drew me in, but in the end, I just wish the story had a deeper sense of darkness.
While Galilee is certainly interesting, and like any other Barker tale transports the reader into a heady and mystical vista, I found that the book left me wanting more. While the lives and conspirations of rich and eternal dynasties are alluring and fascinating, I found that the ways Galilee's characters and groups were linked were not as deep and dark as they could have been. I would also have liked to hear more about the dramas and history of the house of L'Enfant, and its tragic inhabitants, but this seemed to be an undeveloped aspect of the book. There was also an excessive preoccupation with sex and licentiousness, which was needlessly thrown into the narrative as a kind of shock tactic, and didn't really connect with the greater story or convey any deeper purpose or meaning. The obscure ties that the book describes between the Barbarossa and Geary families in the end seemed odd, but not as devastating or anguished as I would have expected, which led the story to a kind of flatline.
Despite its sundry obsessions and deficiencies, Galilee still speaks the language of the secretive and intoxicating worlds that Barker so beautifully creates, and once again opened my mind to those paths that lie beyond the ordinary. The integration of magic, prestige, and American culture was certainly fascinating and drew me in, but in the end, I just wish the story had a deeper sense of darkness.
April 12, 2013
Galilee is very good, as pretty much anything Clive Barker writes is bound to be. But it does stumble in a few ways.
Galilee is a history of two families, the Gearys, a Kennedy-esque family of American privilege, and the Barbarossas, a family blessed by divinity and eternal life. That is both a summary of the story and its core problem. Because while the story of the Gearys is quite good, the Barbarossas are, with the exception of the title character, a distraction.
This novel has a lot of fat. It's quite lengthy, and it never really gets boring - nothing Clive Barker has ever written can be considered boring, there's just too much crazy for that. But I simply didn't care about the Barbarossa family and the tales of their home L'Enfant (built, apparently by Thomas Jefferson).
There are also quite a few threads that are completely left dangling at the end, which was unexpected. Maddox (also known as Eddie) who tells the story, constantly hints at terrible things in his life that are never explained. And the whole novel leads up to a final confrontation between the families that, oddly enough, never actually happens. So that was weird.
But despite all of its problems, Galilee is very good, and absolutely worth reading if you're a fan of the author. You get a lot of Clive Barker staples here - sex of all configurations, an original mythology, and so on. Even if it could use a bit of trimming, I recommend it. Not one of Clive Barker's best, but certainly entertaining.
Galilee is a history of two families, the Gearys, a Kennedy-esque family of American privilege, and the Barbarossas, a family blessed by divinity and eternal life. That is both a summary of the story and its core problem. Because while the story of the Gearys is quite good, the Barbarossas are, with the exception of the title character, a distraction.
This novel has a lot of fat. It's quite lengthy, and it never really gets boring - nothing Clive Barker has ever written can be considered boring, there's just too much crazy for that. But I simply didn't care about the Barbarossa family and the tales of their home L'Enfant (built, apparently by Thomas Jefferson).
There are also quite a few threads that are completely left dangling at the end, which was unexpected. Maddox (also known as Eddie) who tells the story, constantly hints at terrible things in his life that are never explained. And the whole novel leads up to a final confrontation between the families that, oddly enough, never actually happens. So that was weird.
But despite all of its problems, Galilee is very good, and absolutely worth reading if you're a fan of the author. You get a lot of Clive Barker staples here - sex of all configurations, an original mythology, and so on. Even if it could use a bit of trimming, I recommend it. Not one of Clive Barker's best, but certainly entertaining.
March 26, 2020
“We burn so hard, but we shed so little light; it makes us crazy and sad.”
Galilee by Clive Barker tells the extraordinary story about a rich family and their reign over America. The Geary dynasty is threatened by the Barbarossas, a clan who oppose the Gearys’ and have lineage which travels back to a mythical beginning. Galilee from the Barabrossas meets Rachel, a young bride of the Gearys’, this erupts a war where the disturbing history of the Geary family begins to resurface.
How does one begin to describe this book? For me this was a unique experience in Clive Barker’s storytelling. This novel is a supernatural/fantasy story centred around feuding clans of humans and gods. This aspect alone was a highlight for me. As expected there is a huge cast in this story which is very much needed to bring it to life. It is easy to follow who is who and why they are mentioned in specific places without getting lost.
The one aspect I look forward to with Clive Barker’s stories is the way he writes them. His use of beautifully intimate prose is what gives each character their purpose and each event it’s fuel. He has a way of expressing moments of great distress with such calming words. This is very much executed throughout this novel giving it it’s sensual feel. I always feel Barker has an underlaying message with his novels and there are several he touches on with this book.
This novel is more than a story of feuding families and love, it is definitely worth exploring.
Galilee by Clive Barker tells the extraordinary story about a rich family and their reign over America. The Geary dynasty is threatened by the Barbarossas, a clan who oppose the Gearys’ and have lineage which travels back to a mythical beginning. Galilee from the Barabrossas meets Rachel, a young bride of the Gearys’, this erupts a war where the disturbing history of the Geary family begins to resurface.
How does one begin to describe this book? For me this was a unique experience in Clive Barker’s storytelling. This novel is a supernatural/fantasy story centred around feuding clans of humans and gods. This aspect alone was a highlight for me. As expected there is a huge cast in this story which is very much needed to bring it to life. It is easy to follow who is who and why they are mentioned in specific places without getting lost.
The one aspect I look forward to with Clive Barker’s stories is the way he writes them. His use of beautifully intimate prose is what gives each character their purpose and each event it’s fuel. He has a way of expressing moments of great distress with such calming words. This is very much executed throughout this novel giving it it’s sensual feel. I always feel Barker has an underlaying message with his novels and there are several he touches on with this book.
This novel is more than a story of feuding families and love, it is definitely worth exploring.
March 15, 2018
This was trash - and not in a good way. The book is ostensibly about a very old feud between gods and godless men and named after a main character. Unfortunately none of this turns out to be true. The main character is arguably Rachel, a woman who has no defining characteristics, who takes every single supernatural thing that happens in stride and who ultimately has no agency. The main character is NOT Galilee whom we are introduced to a third of the way through, has no character arc beyond Rachel and spends most of the book being talked about. Oh - that's the other thing. Barker has decided to use the strangest framing device. The main characters are all being talked about by Galilee's brother. The first 100 pages are about why he's writing the book you are currently reading. The sex scenes are dry and the only boundary pushing is a few lines about possible incest. You don't even find out WHAT the feud is about until the end of the book.
I went into this expecting something as amazing as Anne Rice's Queen of the Damned and instead I got Exit to Eden. I would not recommend this to anyone.
I went into this expecting something as amazing as Anne Rice's Queen of the Damned and instead I got Exit to Eden. I would not recommend this to anyone.
December 31, 2008
Barker takes a Kennedy-esque clan, larger than life American royalty, and traces their unholy alliance with a family of ancient African gods. It's a long, ambitious book, interweaving many characters' stories, and Barker generally pulls it off. I was expecting something a bit more cataclysmic at the end but perhaps it was more realistic not to wrap up too many plot lines at once. As soon as I'm done writing I'll read to find out whether there was a sequel.
There were a couple of great toss-off observations. From p. 429 of the paperback edition: "I suspect, by the way, that in the creation of divinities we see the most revealing work of the human imagination. And of course in the life of that imagination, the most compelling evidence of the divine in man. Each is the other's most illuminating labor."
And from p. 238: "... I feel myself drawn deeper into the tale I'm telling, the way a worshipper is drawn to the altar steps, and -- dare I venture this? -- for much the same reason. I am hoping to ascend to a place of revelation."
There were a couple of great toss-off observations. From p. 429 of the paperback edition: "I suspect, by the way, that in the creation of divinities we see the most revealing work of the human imagination. And of course in the life of that imagination, the most compelling evidence of the divine in man. Each is the other's most illuminating labor."
And from p. 238: "... I feel myself drawn deeper into the tale I'm telling, the way a worshipper is drawn to the altar steps, and -- dare I venture this? -- for much the same reason. I am hoping to ascend to a place of revelation."
January 13, 2010
Even though it's not really my kind of story, Galilee fascinated me with its brilliant writing style and imaginative plot. Like Quentin Tarrantino, Barker has the ability to borrow from an assortment of unheralded genres (soap opera, trashy romance, alternate history) and transcend them into something both literary and unique. This is story-telling on an epic scale, composed back before Barker started spreading himself too thinly to devote so much time and attention to his writing--his last few novels contain only shadows of the creative ability found here. Which is not to say that this book is perfect, because it isn't. The ending is a bit weak, there are a few scenes too many, and it isn't nearly as romantic as it tries to be. However, all in all, it's an impressive achievement.
March 27, 2011
****1/2
I read "Galilee" in high school, and picked it up again recently, as it's one of the few Clive Barkers I hadn't looked at more than once.
"Galilee" tells the story of two families whose histories are inevitably, and sometimes tragically, linked. The Gearys are a kind of Kennedy family/empire who find themselves continuously involved with the Barbarossas, a clan of immortals.
The story is told in first person, unusual for a Barker novel, from the perspective of one of the Barbarossas, a half-mortal who receives the intricate details of both families' histories due to a gift of sight given to him by his mother.
"Galilee" is a solid novel from Clive Barker. He's talked about a sequel ever since it came out. I'd be more excited to see the third Book of the Art, but am certainly interested in what else he might have to say about the world of Galilee.
I read "Galilee" in high school, and picked it up again recently, as it's one of the few Clive Barkers I hadn't looked at more than once.
"Galilee" tells the story of two families whose histories are inevitably, and sometimes tragically, linked. The Gearys are a kind of Kennedy family/empire who find themselves continuously involved with the Barbarossas, a clan of immortals.
The story is told in first person, unusual for a Barker novel, from the perspective of one of the Barbarossas, a half-mortal who receives the intricate details of both families' histories due to a gift of sight given to him by his mother.
"Galilee" is a solid novel from Clive Barker. He's talked about a sequel ever since it came out. I'd be more excited to see the third Book of the Art, but am certainly interested in what else he might have to say about the world of Galilee.
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