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Throat Sprockets
Spending his lunch hours in a porno theater to relieve his boredom, a young advertising executive discovers an obscure film called "Throat Sprockets" and develops a fascination for women's throats that gradually consumes his life
232 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1994
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October 21, 2018
”I wondered if I hadn’t been so deeply affected by Throat Sprockets because it had given this unfinished something deep within me, after all these years, the teeth it needed to access a body-temperature flow of nourishment.”
A tasty well defined neck.
Our unnamed narrator frequently escapes to the sticky floored darkness of his favorite pornographic theater to relax and eat his lunch. His trenchcoated companions are barely a distraction in the periphery of his vision. If we are trying to place him on the scale of perversity, he ranks a bit above average, but certainly not in the red zone. He is a garden variety, breast man.
Until he sees Throat Sprockets .
”The director had a thing for women’s throats.”
His wife, Paige, starts noticing some changes in his behavior. He has always liked to give her shoulder massages, which always culminated with him groping her breasts. She can count on the fact that he is a breast man, and she has the breasts to keep him happy, but then he starts giving her massages that end with a special fixation on her neck. Her breasts, ready to be offered as a reward,...are...ignored.
Puzzling, but not alarming.
He continues to watch the film at every opportunity. His behavior becomes even more strange, more emotional. ”Men cry, but we tend to be moved to tears quietly, as quietly as we masturbate. Men are raised to purge themselves in strictest secrecy…”
He knows this need is not natural. He is developing an unnatural appetite. It scares him and invigorates him. He begins listening to different music. ”It was all about throat music. He couldn’t have cared less about the content of the music, he was after the substance of it, the texture, the sex of it, the husky vibrato. He was burrowing, digging, chewing into sounds, completely unconcerned with melody, ignoring everything but the simple conceit that these sounds coming in moans and coos and wanton wails and soaring arias were an erotic discharge pouring into his ears from women’s throats.”
If Paige’s breasts had grown to the size of cantaloupes and had sprouted wings, he wouldn’t have cared less, nor would he have been moved to desire if she had grabbed his head and stuck his face in her cleavage . His eyes would have been locked on the pulse in her throat.
The marriage ends when she has to defend the silky contours of her neck with a kitchen knife keeping his brandished teeth away from her cervicibus. His admiration for women’s throats has grown into a full on erotic obsession.
Just a nibble please!
He works as an advertising writer, and soon he starts to realize that all of his ideas are centered around his interest in the concepts expressed in Throat Sprockets. He starts to realize that his desires are not as unnatural as he thought. The term sprocketing is becoming a known term, and whole groups of young people are becoming chokers, offering their necks and their blood to those who have found a desire that exceeds their sexual lusts. It is on the verge of an epidemic.
His descent into madness continues to spiral downward; each spiral is tighter and moving faster. He seeks the well spring of the film. The director proves elusive, but he does find some people involved with the film. He pays exorbitant amounts of money for anything connected with the film that will give him a better understanding. The question is, can he save himself before…”I hear the sound of a garroted camera as my blood runs out of film.”
This isn’t a vampire book. It is actually a fascinating journey of erotic obsession. I happen to find women’s necks very attractive, but I have no interest in the blood that pulses beneath the skin. Beauty for me is best left unmarred...well...maybe mussed a bit. For our narrator, it isn’t enough to gaze upon say the beauty of a dark round mole on a lovely female neck. He wants to consume it. He wants to possess it. I’ve learned over the years that those things that most of us might find unnatural or even disgusting are the very things that turn other people on. Any perversity that you can conceive is something that someone else has turned into an obsession. To say it is unnatural or unique may not be as true as I would like to believe. As Google releases more and more information about our true online interests, which actually are a more honest representative of our true desires than we would ever reveal in a survey, we might discover that our neighbors are more kinky than we had previously thought.
Oh my what nice hardware you have my dear.
Tim Lucas explores the dark side of desire. He does so with evocative sentence structures and dangles all kinds of threads for the discerning reader to pull on to open up the truth about your own obsessions. The book left me wondering if I have even found my kink. If the narrator had never seen Throat Sprockets, he would have lived out his life being perfectly fine venerating breasts. Is there a song or a movie or book that will reveal a desire I had no idea I possessed? Am I living a lie while unknown desires are dormant in some dark corner of my mind? Read this book at your own risk, my friends and followers.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
A tasty well defined neck.
Our unnamed narrator frequently escapes to the sticky floored darkness of his favorite pornographic theater to relax and eat his lunch. His trenchcoated companions are barely a distraction in the periphery of his vision. If we are trying to place him on the scale of perversity, he ranks a bit above average, but certainly not in the red zone. He is a garden variety, breast man.
Until he sees Throat Sprockets .
”The director had a thing for women’s throats.”
His wife, Paige, starts noticing some changes in his behavior. He has always liked to give her shoulder massages, which always culminated with him groping her breasts. She can count on the fact that he is a breast man, and she has the breasts to keep him happy, but then he starts giving her massages that end with a special fixation on her neck. Her breasts, ready to be offered as a reward,...are...ignored.
Puzzling, but not alarming.
He continues to watch the film at every opportunity. His behavior becomes even more strange, more emotional. ”Men cry, but we tend to be moved to tears quietly, as quietly as we masturbate. Men are raised to purge themselves in strictest secrecy…”
He knows this need is not natural. He is developing an unnatural appetite. It scares him and invigorates him. He begins listening to different music. ”It was all about throat music. He couldn’t have cared less about the content of the music, he was after the substance of it, the texture, the sex of it, the husky vibrato. He was burrowing, digging, chewing into sounds, completely unconcerned with melody, ignoring everything but the simple conceit that these sounds coming in moans and coos and wanton wails and soaring arias were an erotic discharge pouring into his ears from women’s throats.”
If Paige’s breasts had grown to the size of cantaloupes and had sprouted wings, he wouldn’t have cared less, nor would he have been moved to desire if she had grabbed his head and stuck his face in her cleavage . His eyes would have been locked on the pulse in her throat.
The marriage ends when she has to defend the silky contours of her neck with a kitchen knife keeping his brandished teeth away from her cervicibus. His admiration for women’s throats has grown into a full on erotic obsession.
Just a nibble please!
He works as an advertising writer, and soon he starts to realize that all of his ideas are centered around his interest in the concepts expressed in Throat Sprockets. He starts to realize that his desires are not as unnatural as he thought. The term sprocketing is becoming a known term, and whole groups of young people are becoming chokers, offering their necks and their blood to those who have found a desire that exceeds their sexual lusts. It is on the verge of an epidemic.
His descent into madness continues to spiral downward; each spiral is tighter and moving faster. He seeks the well spring of the film. The director proves elusive, but he does find some people involved with the film. He pays exorbitant amounts of money for anything connected with the film that will give him a better understanding. The question is, can he save himself before…”I hear the sound of a garroted camera as my blood runs out of film.”
This isn’t a vampire book. It is actually a fascinating journey of erotic obsession. I happen to find women’s necks very attractive, but I have no interest in the blood that pulses beneath the skin. Beauty for me is best left unmarred...well...maybe mussed a bit. For our narrator, it isn’t enough to gaze upon say the beauty of a dark round mole on a lovely female neck. He wants to consume it. He wants to possess it. I’ve learned over the years that those things that most of us might find unnatural or even disgusting are the very things that turn other people on. Any perversity that you can conceive is something that someone else has turned into an obsession. To say it is unnatural or unique may not be as true as I would like to believe. As Google releases more and more information about our true online interests, which actually are a more honest representative of our true desires than we would ever reveal in a survey, we might discover that our neighbors are more kinky than we had previously thought.
Oh my what nice hardware you have my dear.
Tim Lucas explores the dark side of desire. He does so with evocative sentence structures and dangles all kinds of threads for the discerning reader to pull on to open up the truth about your own obsessions. The book left me wondering if I have even found my kink. If the narrator had never seen Throat Sprockets, he would have lived out his life being perfectly fine venerating breasts. Is there a song or a movie or book that will reveal a desire I had no idea I possessed? Am I living a lie while unknown desires are dormant in some dark corner of my mind? Read this book at your own risk, my friends and followers.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
December 3, 2013
There are two books by author/poet/film critic Tim Lucas that I have long wanted to read. The first is his monumentally in-depth study of Italian horror director Mario Bava, entitled "Mario Bava: All the Colors of the Dark," which was released in 2007. However, this volume not only runs to 1,128 pages and weighs in at a full 12 pounds (!), but also boasts a whopping suggested retail price of $315. Infinitely more doable for this reader, both in terms of price and portability, is Lucas' first piece of fiction, "Throat Sprockets: A Novel of Erotic Obsession," which was first published in 1994, after several of its chapters had been given the "graphic novel" treatment. I first read about "Throat Sprockets" while perusing the excellent overview volume "Horror: Another 100 Best Books," in which author Tananarive Due sings the novel's praises; the book "utterly captivated me with its intelligence and originality," she tells us. And cinemaphiles who have been reading Lucas' reviews in his "Video Watchdog" magazine for the past 23 years will not be surprised to learn what a love for film this book evinces, and how well its first-time author tells his tale.
In the book, our narrator--whose name, for some strange reason (one bit of strangeness amongst many), is never revealed--tells the story of how a film called "Throat Sprockets" forever changed his life. A 30-ish adman in the town of Friendship, Ohio, of all places (Cincinnati-born Lucas may very well have visited this real-life burg), he had gone to see the film at the local porno theater during his lunch break. But to his surprise, this was no X-rated skin flick, but rather a European art film that clearly revealed a throat fetish on the part of its uncredited director. Before long, our narrator develops a throat fetish of his own, and his desire to sink his teeth into the necks of young women and drink their blood leads to the dissolution of his happy marriage. True to the novel's subtitle, he becomes absolutely obsessed with both the film (his efforts to track down and obtain imported VHS copies leads to some fairly strange encounters) and with necks, throats and napes in general, even going so far as to begin taping necklace commercials off of the "TeleMall Network"! And even more bizarrely, the film in question is shown to eventually start a very strange fad amongst the general public, giving a whole new meaning when a couple is said to be "necking"....
Erotic, perverse, at times horrific and always unpredictable, Lucas' novel is quite the experience indeed. Lucas' descriptions of the book's central life-changing film make the reader truly believe that such a picture exists, and the interview segments with one of the filmmakers near the novel's end also add an air of convincing verisimilitude. The tyro author clearly has not only a great love for film, but also for language, and indeed, some sections of the book may be justly accused of being generously overwritten (such as when he writes "...the walls around me seemed to absorb a venal darkness, besmattered with pernicious excrescences, atavistic graffiti and portent," and "...her throat looked rutted and rubbery, like a stalk of celery that's gone soft in a Bloody Mary"). Lucas bends the English language to suit his needs (such as when he uses "cancer" as a verb) and charms the reader with some terribly clever, newly coined words of his own (for example, the faddist bloodsuckers are called both "napists" and "hemos" by the right-wing organization STOKER--the Society To Obliterate Kinky Erotic Recreation!). For the most part, Lucas' writing is a delight, even when the subject matter is perverse, although he does slip on occasion (shouldn't that "besmattered" word be "bespattered" in the previous quote?) and also allows some plot threads to (deliberately?) peter out, such as the ones revolving around our narrator's coworker Myla Monteith and his similarly neck-obsessed girlfriend Emma Mitsouko. Still, it is an utterly unique and, as mentioned, highly intelligent piece of work, told to the reader with style to spare; as Due writes, "With grim humor, sharp intellect, and no lack of literary calisthenics, 'Throat Sprockets' is a lot of evil fun."
There is yet another reason why I happen to have a lot of admiration--if not precisely love--for Lucas' work here. As an avid film buff myself, who goes to several of NYC's revival houses with some frequency and who has been asked on more than one occasion about how I can watch several beloved films over and over, there is one passage in Lucas' book that I honestly DO love, and would like to memorize, as a response to that perpetual query. As Lucas tells us: "Most films are made to be seen and known entirely at first glance; they also tend to evaporate from our minds on the first pass. Any film worth knowing deserves to be known well, to be seen more than once, but the very best films tend to seduce us with a virtual reality that begs to be escaped into, perhaps once per year, for the rest of our lives. Favorite films should be cherished, their towns revisited, their characters met and loved and lost all over again, their stories replayed to the point of assimilation--like a favorite record, a pet trauma, or a good stretch of road." For that paragraph alone, I applaud Tim Lucas and his truly unsettling, borderline brilliant first novel. And now, if you'll excuse me, I think I will go watch "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" for the 37th time....
In the book, our narrator--whose name, for some strange reason (one bit of strangeness amongst many), is never revealed--tells the story of how a film called "Throat Sprockets" forever changed his life. A 30-ish adman in the town of Friendship, Ohio, of all places (Cincinnati-born Lucas may very well have visited this real-life burg), he had gone to see the film at the local porno theater during his lunch break. But to his surprise, this was no X-rated skin flick, but rather a European art film that clearly revealed a throat fetish on the part of its uncredited director. Before long, our narrator develops a throat fetish of his own, and his desire to sink his teeth into the necks of young women and drink their blood leads to the dissolution of his happy marriage. True to the novel's subtitle, he becomes absolutely obsessed with both the film (his efforts to track down and obtain imported VHS copies leads to some fairly strange encounters) and with necks, throats and napes in general, even going so far as to begin taping necklace commercials off of the "TeleMall Network"! And even more bizarrely, the film in question is shown to eventually start a very strange fad amongst the general public, giving a whole new meaning when a couple is said to be "necking"....
Erotic, perverse, at times horrific and always unpredictable, Lucas' novel is quite the experience indeed. Lucas' descriptions of the book's central life-changing film make the reader truly believe that such a picture exists, and the interview segments with one of the filmmakers near the novel's end also add an air of convincing verisimilitude. The tyro author clearly has not only a great love for film, but also for language, and indeed, some sections of the book may be justly accused of being generously overwritten (such as when he writes "...the walls around me seemed to absorb a venal darkness, besmattered with pernicious excrescences, atavistic graffiti and portent," and "...her throat looked rutted and rubbery, like a stalk of celery that's gone soft in a Bloody Mary"). Lucas bends the English language to suit his needs (such as when he uses "cancer" as a verb) and charms the reader with some terribly clever, newly coined words of his own (for example, the faddist bloodsuckers are called both "napists" and "hemos" by the right-wing organization STOKER--the Society To Obliterate Kinky Erotic Recreation!). For the most part, Lucas' writing is a delight, even when the subject matter is perverse, although he does slip on occasion (shouldn't that "besmattered" word be "bespattered" in the previous quote?) and also allows some plot threads to (deliberately?) peter out, such as the ones revolving around our narrator's coworker Myla Monteith and his similarly neck-obsessed girlfriend Emma Mitsouko. Still, it is an utterly unique and, as mentioned, highly intelligent piece of work, told to the reader with style to spare; as Due writes, "With grim humor, sharp intellect, and no lack of literary calisthenics, 'Throat Sprockets' is a lot of evil fun."
There is yet another reason why I happen to have a lot of admiration--if not precisely love--for Lucas' work here. As an avid film buff myself, who goes to several of NYC's revival houses with some frequency and who has been asked on more than one occasion about how I can watch several beloved films over and over, there is one passage in Lucas' book that I honestly DO love, and would like to memorize, as a response to that perpetual query. As Lucas tells us: "Most films are made to be seen and known entirely at first glance; they also tend to evaporate from our minds on the first pass. Any film worth knowing deserves to be known well, to be seen more than once, but the very best films tend to seduce us with a virtual reality that begs to be escaped into, perhaps once per year, for the rest of our lives. Favorite films should be cherished, their towns revisited, their characters met and loved and lost all over again, their stories replayed to the point of assimilation--like a favorite record, a pet trauma, or a good stretch of road." For that paragraph alone, I applaud Tim Lucas and his truly unsettling, borderline brilliant first novel. And now, if you'll excuse me, I think I will go watch "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" for the 37th time....
June 24, 2025
Throat Sprockets is a legendarily hard-to-find-at-affordable-prices novel. By pure chance I found it on archive.org, and read it during a "borrow" over several days. I find the archive.org reading format awkward, and assumed I would not finish the book. But Throat Sprockets has revolved intermittently in my mind for four decades.
There are many novels about characters being seduced by forgotten or hidden films -- especially nowadays. Throat Sprockets is, however, something more: seduction by a storied, forgotten, and hidden novel about characters seduced and destroyed by a lost, secret film.
Occult:
verb (occulted, occulting) 1 tr & intr to hide or conceal something, or to be hidden or concealed. 2 tr & intr, astron said of a celestial body: to obscure (another celestial body) or to be obscured by occultation. 3 intrans said of lights, especially the light in a lighthouse, or beacons, etc: to become temporarily invisible at regular intervals.
* * *
A synopsis of each chapter is provided below:
I.
Chapter 1. Throat Sprockets
The first chapter introduces the protagonist, who recounts his experience watching the film Throat Sprockets in an adult movie theater. He describes the impact the film has on his perception of women and his growing obsession with their throats.
Chapter 2. Cabinet of Doctor Alighieri
The protagonist reflects on his past relationships and the absence of close friends in his life. He shares his marital struggles and his growing obsession with Throat Sprockets.
Chapter 3. The Disaster Area
This chapter portrays a therapy session where a woman recounts a series of disturbing events, including the death of her friend and a haunting experience, leading to her realization about the vulnerability of the throat.
II.
Chapter 4. Transylvania, Mon Amour
The protagonist's life takes a turn as he gets promoted at work and goes on business trips. He revisits the movie theater and encounters the film again, leading to an encounter with a woman.
Chapter 5. Merchandise
The protagonist delves deeper into his obsession, exploring television programs and collecting video cassettes featuring women's throats. He seeks to acquire a copy of the movie but faces obstacles.
Chapter 6. Demolished
The protagonist witnesses the demolition of the theater and reflects on the loss of his favorite film. He attends an event where artifacts from the theater are sold and discovers a connection to the film.
III.
Chapter 7. Released
The protagonist's obsession takes a toll on his personal and professional life. He isolates himself and becomes fixated on the film.
Chapter 8. The Proscenium
The protagonist encounters a woman who resembles the actress from the film and becomes infatuated with her. He observes her from afar and struggles with his feelings.
Chapter 9. More Merchandise
The protagonist's obsession intensifies as he seeks out more material featuring women's throats. He acquires a Japanese import of the film and discovers a connection to the woman he is infatuated with.
IV.
Chapter 10. One Upon a Time in the West
The protagonist's journey leads him to Los Angeles, where he reflects on the impact of his actions and the spread of the dangerous practice depicted in the film.
V.
Chapter 11. The Palace of Wisdom
The protagonist finds himself in a remote location, reflecting on his past and the consequences of his obsession. He encounters a young girl who helps him uncover the truth behind the film and its creator.
There are many novels about characters being seduced by forgotten or hidden films -- especially nowadays. Throat Sprockets is, however, something more: seduction by a storied, forgotten, and hidden novel about characters seduced and destroyed by a lost, secret film.
Occult:
verb (occulted, occulting) 1 tr & intr to hide or conceal something, or to be hidden or concealed. 2 tr & intr, astron said of a celestial body: to obscure (another celestial body) or to be obscured by occultation. 3 intrans said of lights, especially the light in a lighthouse, or beacons, etc: to become temporarily invisible at regular intervals.
* * *
A synopsis of each chapter is provided below:
I.
Chapter 1. Throat Sprockets
The first chapter introduces the protagonist, who recounts his experience watching the film Throat Sprockets in an adult movie theater. He describes the impact the film has on his perception of women and his growing obsession with their throats.
Chapter 2. Cabinet of Doctor Alighieri
The protagonist reflects on his past relationships and the absence of close friends in his life. He shares his marital struggles and his growing obsession with Throat Sprockets.
Chapter 3. The Disaster Area
This chapter portrays a therapy session where a woman recounts a series of disturbing events, including the death of her friend and a haunting experience, leading to her realization about the vulnerability of the throat.
II.
Chapter 4. Transylvania, Mon Amour
The protagonist's life takes a turn as he gets promoted at work and goes on business trips. He revisits the movie theater and encounters the film again, leading to an encounter with a woman.
Chapter 5. Merchandise
The protagonist delves deeper into his obsession, exploring television programs and collecting video cassettes featuring women's throats. He seeks to acquire a copy of the movie but faces obstacles.
Chapter 6. Demolished
The protagonist witnesses the demolition of the theater and reflects on the loss of his favorite film. He attends an event where artifacts from the theater are sold and discovers a connection to the film.
III.
Chapter 7. Released
The protagonist's obsession takes a toll on his personal and professional life. He isolates himself and becomes fixated on the film.
Chapter 8. The Proscenium
The protagonist encounters a woman who resembles the actress from the film and becomes infatuated with her. He observes her from afar and struggles with his feelings.
Chapter 9. More Merchandise
The protagonist's obsession intensifies as he seeks out more material featuring women's throats. He acquires a Japanese import of the film and discovers a connection to the woman he is infatuated with.
IV.
Chapter 10. One Upon a Time in the West
The protagonist's journey leads him to Los Angeles, where he reflects on the impact of his actions and the spread of the dangerous practice depicted in the film.
V.
Chapter 11. The Palace of Wisdom
The protagonist finds himself in a remote location, reflecting on his past and the consequences of his obsession. He encounters a young girl who helps him uncover the truth behind the film and its creator.
March 3, 2023
Billed as a forgotten out-of-print gem approaching the vampire genre in a completely unique manner was a hard place for this book to start in relation to expectations. The blurbs on the front and back of the book comparing the author to Bret Easton Ellis upped the ante even more. I definitely see why it’s out-of-print. It’s a slow burn. And that’s being kind. Well written and unique, but dull. I also saw that it was adapted from an experimentation with a graphic novel. Not bad. However, I’d have to disagree with the Maxim magazine quote on the cover. “Sick.” Hmmm…nothing amazing. “Slick.” Perhaps, as a copycat of Ellis. “And funny as hell.” Nope.
October 31, 2018
Full Review
Throat Sprockets is an excellently crafted and fascinating work of psychological horror. It’s an insightful look at how film and images in general can influence us and even infect us. This is a book well worth tracking down and I hope it comes back into print.
Throat Sprockets is an excellently crafted and fascinating work of psychological horror. It’s an insightful look at how film and images in general can influence us and even infect us. This is a book well worth tracking down and I hope it comes back into print.
March 9, 2022
3.5 stars
April 24, 2022
This was a re-read for me - I was an avid VIDEO WATCHDOG (Lucas' film magazine) reader/subscriber at the time it was released and so I ordered it right away and gulped it down. Always meant to revisit it at a later date and the time was now.
The set-up/outline of this novel (2 chapters of which were also also adapted into comics form in Taboo #1 & Taboo #3) is fairly easy to get across. An unnamed married man, in the habit of spending his lunch breaks from his advertising job by visiting his local, decaying movie palace - now a seedy theater for porno films - happens to run across a mysterious, hastily edited film with no sex at all, the titular THROAT SPROCKETS. The film seems an artistic, intimate, erotic fever dream that festishizes women's throats - building to their eventual "penetration" with teeth (although not in an overly violent manner). As the man finds his interior fantasy life colonized by this magnetic film's images and this new fetish, it begins to affect his life in negative () and positive () ways, even as details about the actual film prove elusive. Meanwhile, as he gropes his way through a new lifestyle and relationship, the sexual popular culture of the US undergoes a sea change with the emergence of "sprocketing" and a culmination in the eventual wholesale video release of THROAT SPROCKETS...
This is quite a good read, very engrossing and not in any way a routine potboiler (in other words, if you think you know where it's going from the above synopsis, you are most likely wrong). Measured, thoughtful and human, it has much to say about how we interact with, and are affected by, creative acts and artifacts. One might be surprised to find that the book itself is not specifically explicit. Erotic, yes, with a focus on desire, love, romance, sadism/masochism and a form of passion, but not overly explicit. So those looking for an S&M or "blood-play" fetish text might be disappointed, unless they can appreciate subtlety. Another striking aspect is the book's focus on the interior life and development of the narrator - in some sense the book is much less about the "mysterious film" (although there are revelations as the book progresses, which eventually drive the narrative) and more (or at least equally) about how desire is subsumed, how we model our relationships, how fetishes develop and what this actually means emotionally for one's life path and choice of partners - in that sense, I imagine that it is a book that will have more impact for the middle-aged reader (or at least those who have a bit more experience with interpersonal relationships and emotional sophistication), and the married reader will also probably find more in it than the unmarried (I myself fall into the latter category, so that's just a supposition on my part).
Cinephiles of a certain age may also enjoy it, as it nicely captures the slide from the waning days of movie palaces into the video age of films reduced to consumable, repeatable experiences. That aspect has a bit of a VIDEODROME feel to it, no doubt (the disturbing encounter with a seedy procurer of illicit videotapes is a standout moment of unnerving implications) and there is that Cronenbergian "distance" (if not sterility) to some of the proceedings, although as I stated the focus on interiority, psychology and emotional development feels different than that Canadian auteur's work (whose own recent book, Consumed, I reviewed here). The heady intoxication of unexpectedly experiencing thoughtful, artful European cinema is nicely conveyed and there's an interesting moment in which mutual discussion and analysis of a film can be seen as a form of discovery/foreplay with a potential sexual/romantic partner. The image of the "vampire," stripped of its expected signifiers or tropes (no supernaturalism, little religion, and no "parasitism" - instead just an examination of female throats and their oral penetration) is interrogated herein, of course. From a genre point of view, one could argue that THROAT SPROCKETS does (for 70s-era sexploitation film and the portrayal of "vampirism" in our popular culture) what J.G. Ballard's Crash did for automobiles - boiling the idea down to an essence and reexamining it while reconfiguring it. There are some subtle allusions to vampiric imagery (gas siphoning, spilled wine, recurrent mirrors) and the initial encounters with future partner Emma begin almost as a modern "stalker" scenario.
There is also some of the "blood & fluids/sex behind barriers/condoms & dental dams" fear of the 80's AIDS-era resonant in this tale, with some aspects of the time well captured (the assaultive, orchestrated "outrage" of a Morton Downey Jr.-esque TV talk show is doubly unnerving for the realization that this is now the media, as well as Presidential, norm and how seamlessly that happened). I found the story's early reflection on how friendships, and their abandonment or transformation through age, shape our lives to also be very affecting and appreciated the unstated but obvious critique of the advertising industry (how evocative images are calculatedly manipulated to create effects in the audience, with unease arising not just from the ultimate goal of the advertising - consumption - but also in wondering what drives the use of those initial images in the first place). This can even be seen on a larger level as how previously unknown or buried feelings/ideas in a popular culture can be/are deliberately teased out and forced to resonate - merely in the interest of commerce - but also how this can metastasize unexpectedly, leading to damaging societal manifestations (this aspect brought to mind Kim Newman's masterful short story "Illimitable Dominion" - a free reading of which can be heard here - which posits an alternate history for the United States in which the Roger Corman 60s era Edgar Allan Poe films strike a resonant and sustained chord with the youth culture, turning it in a different direction).
More intriguing still is the book's interrogation of the objectification of the image's focus, how it frames and severs the item under scrutiny - which both allows for a detailed and thorough examination while technically killing the "thing" by removing it from a larger context - which helps facilitate the eros/thanatos dichotomy linkage of fetishism. The text itself even plays with the mechanics of this for a short time, inventively introducing the idea of *SPLICE*s that elide information, conjuring questions, intimations and possible obsessions
My complaints are few and relatively minor. There are moments when the book is a little too enthusiastically cute with its cultural/advertising wordplay (less would have been more, essentially, although I guffawed out loud at the deployment of "fucking hemo!"). I felt the climax of the book, which jumps ahead to a war-torn and near-Ballardesque foreign zone littered with a destructed "Hollywood" () was interesting - we are given the ultimate secret of Hollywood (after it would fail to be of any use at all) stated in the general, and then in the brutal, exploitative explicit. Originally I found it a little unfulfilling when I read it (or at least, hard to recall) and while I like it better now, it does feel a bit weak when compared to the whole. And yet, that begs the question of what, given the scenario we've been handed, would have been a satisfying and honest ending? And I have no answer for that, reflecting surprisingly on that famous quote about a shoe fetishist horrified to discover a real human being attached to the object of his focus. Only artificial and dead objects have tidy and complete endings.
The set-up/outline of this novel (2 chapters of which were also also adapted into comics form in Taboo #1 & Taboo #3) is fairly easy to get across. An unnamed married man, in the habit of spending his lunch breaks from his advertising job by visiting his local, decaying movie palace - now a seedy theater for porno films - happens to run across a mysterious, hastily edited film with no sex at all, the titular THROAT SPROCKETS. The film seems an artistic, intimate, erotic fever dream that festishizes women's throats - building to their eventual "penetration" with teeth (although not in an overly violent manner). As the man finds his interior fantasy life colonized by this magnetic film's images and this new fetish, it begins to affect his life in negative () and positive () ways, even as details about the actual film prove elusive. Meanwhile, as he gropes his way through a new lifestyle and relationship, the sexual popular culture of the US undergoes a sea change with the emergence of "sprocketing" and a culmination in the eventual wholesale video release of THROAT SPROCKETS...
This is quite a good read, very engrossing and not in any way a routine potboiler (in other words, if you think you know where it's going from the above synopsis, you are most likely wrong). Measured, thoughtful and human, it has much to say about how we interact with, and are affected by, creative acts and artifacts. One might be surprised to find that the book itself is not specifically explicit. Erotic, yes, with a focus on desire, love, romance, sadism/masochism and a form of passion, but not overly explicit. So those looking for an S&M or "blood-play" fetish text might be disappointed, unless they can appreciate subtlety. Another striking aspect is the book's focus on the interior life and development of the narrator - in some sense the book is much less about the "mysterious film" (although there are revelations as the book progresses, which eventually drive the narrative) and more (or at least equally) about how desire is subsumed, how we model our relationships, how fetishes develop and what this actually means emotionally for one's life path and choice of partners - in that sense, I imagine that it is a book that will have more impact for the middle-aged reader (or at least those who have a bit more experience with interpersonal relationships and emotional sophistication), and the married reader will also probably find more in it than the unmarried (I myself fall into the latter category, so that's just a supposition on my part).
Cinephiles of a certain age may also enjoy it, as it nicely captures the slide from the waning days of movie palaces into the video age of films reduced to consumable, repeatable experiences. That aspect has a bit of a VIDEODROME feel to it, no doubt (the disturbing encounter with a seedy procurer of illicit videotapes is a standout moment of unnerving implications) and there is that Cronenbergian "distance" (if not sterility) to some of the proceedings, although as I stated the focus on interiority, psychology and emotional development feels different than that Canadian auteur's work (whose own recent book, Consumed, I reviewed here). The heady intoxication of unexpectedly experiencing thoughtful, artful European cinema is nicely conveyed and there's an interesting moment in which mutual discussion and analysis of a film can be seen as a form of discovery/foreplay with a potential sexual/romantic partner. The image of the "vampire," stripped of its expected signifiers or tropes (no supernaturalism, little religion, and no "parasitism" - instead just an examination of female throats and their oral penetration) is interrogated herein, of course. From a genre point of view, one could argue that THROAT SPROCKETS does (for 70s-era sexploitation film and the portrayal of "vampirism" in our popular culture) what J.G. Ballard's Crash did for automobiles - boiling the idea down to an essence and reexamining it while reconfiguring it. There are some subtle allusions to vampiric imagery (gas siphoning, spilled wine, recurrent mirrors) and the initial encounters with future partner Emma begin almost as a modern "stalker" scenario.
There is also some of the "blood & fluids/sex behind barriers/condoms & dental dams" fear of the 80's AIDS-era resonant in this tale, with some aspects of the time well captured (the assaultive, orchestrated "outrage" of a Morton Downey Jr.-esque TV talk show is doubly unnerving for the realization that this is now the media, as well as Presidential, norm and how seamlessly that happened). I found the story's early reflection on how friendships, and their abandonment or transformation through age, shape our lives to also be very affecting and appreciated the unstated but obvious critique of the advertising industry (how evocative images are calculatedly manipulated to create effects in the audience, with unease arising not just from the ultimate goal of the advertising - consumption - but also in wondering what drives the use of those initial images in the first place). This can even be seen on a larger level as how previously unknown or buried feelings/ideas in a popular culture can be/are deliberately teased out and forced to resonate - merely in the interest of commerce - but also how this can metastasize unexpectedly, leading to damaging societal manifestations (this aspect brought to mind Kim Newman's masterful short story "Illimitable Dominion" - a free reading of which can be heard here - which posits an alternate history for the United States in which the Roger Corman 60s era Edgar Allan Poe films strike a resonant and sustained chord with the youth culture, turning it in a different direction).
More intriguing still is the book's interrogation of the objectification of the image's focus, how it frames and severs the item under scrutiny - which both allows for a detailed and thorough examination while technically killing the "thing" by removing it from a larger context - which helps facilitate the eros/thanatos dichotomy linkage of fetishism. The text itself even plays with the mechanics of this for a short time, inventively introducing the idea of *SPLICE*s that elide information, conjuring questions, intimations and possible obsessions
My complaints are few and relatively minor. There are moments when the book is a little too enthusiastically cute with its cultural/advertising wordplay (less would have been more, essentially, although I guffawed out loud at the deployment of "fucking hemo!"). I felt the climax of the book, which jumps ahead to a war-torn and near-Ballardesque foreign zone littered with a destructed "Hollywood" () was interesting - we are given the ultimate secret of Hollywood (after it would fail to be of any use at all) stated in the general, and then in the brutal, exploitative explicit. Originally I found it a little unfulfilling when I read it (or at least, hard to recall) and while I like it better now, it does feel a bit weak when compared to the whole. And yet, that begs the question of what, given the scenario we've been handed, would have been a satisfying and honest ending? And I have no answer for that, reflecting surprisingly on that famous quote about a shoe fetishist horrified to discover a real human being attached to the object of his focus. Only artificial and dead objects have tidy and complete endings.
July 11, 2015
The unnamed narrator of Tim Lucas’s first novel spends his lunch hours in the Eros, a downtrodden cinema showing nothing but blue movies, and finds himself unexpectedly affected by a somewhat artier-than-usual offering, Throat Sprockets, a film that focuses obsessively on women’s throats. Breaking through an incipient dissatisfaction with his own overly settled life (‘all my friends had gone, in separate directions, to some world party to which opportunity and circumstance had not invited me’), this film becomes an obsession, simultaneously ruining his otherwise contented marriage, while boosting his career in advertising, as his obsession plugs him into a growing trend for DIY vampirism.
I found Throat Sprockets a bit of a mixed bag. The thing that drew me to the book was the promise of a story-type I’ve liked elsewhere (Theodore Roszak’s Flicker, Ramsey Campbell’s Ancient Images and The Grin of the Dark), where the narrator’s quest to find out more about an obscure, deeply affecting film leads him into dark areas. That wasn’t as much of an element of Throat Sprockets as I was expecting, though. Instead, there’s a mix of the narrator finding a new relationship with a woman who shares his tastes, and a growing, very dark-edged and dry satire about the effect the film, and its subject matter, has on society as a whole. It was as it left the purely personal story behind that I and the novel parted ways. Perhaps it didn’t help that, in its final third, the plot took several jarring lurches forward -- ‘SPLICE’, as the book itself might say -- with one long chapter being a mix of dream and maybe-reality, quickly followed by a plunge into something suddenly apocalyptic. It all left me unsure of quite what the novel was about, and certainly left me unsure of what it all meant in terms of the narrator’s personal story.
But Throat Sprockets does contain some fine writing, some very dry, dark wit, and a nice few barbed comments about Hollywood, advertising, and modern life generally.
I found Throat Sprockets a bit of a mixed bag. The thing that drew me to the book was the promise of a story-type I’ve liked elsewhere (Theodore Roszak’s Flicker, Ramsey Campbell’s Ancient Images and The Grin of the Dark), where the narrator’s quest to find out more about an obscure, deeply affecting film leads him into dark areas. That wasn’t as much of an element of Throat Sprockets as I was expecting, though. Instead, there’s a mix of the narrator finding a new relationship with a woman who shares his tastes, and a growing, very dark-edged and dry satire about the effect the film, and its subject matter, has on society as a whole. It was as it left the purely personal story behind that I and the novel parted ways. Perhaps it didn’t help that, in its final third, the plot took several jarring lurches forward -- ‘SPLICE’, as the book itself might say -- with one long chapter being a mix of dream and maybe-reality, quickly followed by a plunge into something suddenly apocalyptic. It all left me unsure of quite what the novel was about, and certainly left me unsure of what it all meant in terms of the narrator’s personal story.
But Throat Sprockets does contain some fine writing, some very dry, dark wit, and a nice few barbed comments about Hollywood, advertising, and modern life generally.
November 9, 2021
The beginning was more erotic and was hoping for more throughout the book. I loved the idea of people wanting to be vampires and that's where I thought the story was heading. I loved the obsession but again wish it was more amped up.
September 27, 2024
So how I stumbled upon this book interestingly enough was through this horror anthology comic book called taboo. The first issue has a story that turns out to be the first chapter of this book. I really enjoyed that story in taboo and kept reading more and in a side note it said this story is drawn by the guy who made throat sprockets and they will continue the story of throat sprockets at another time. I was excited to hear that they made more so I immediately went to Google to hunt down the rest of the comic panels of the rest of throat sprockets but instead of finding those I find out it has been turned into a novel and was never finished in the taboo comics. I immediately tried to find a copy of the book and apparently it's quite rare nowadays as it's been out of print, I did eventually manage for find a copy and honestly throat sprockets absorbed me until it was finished.
So now to the actual review and synopsis. I honestly enjoyed this book quite a bit. It has a unique take on what could be considered vampirism or a fetish and how in a random circumstance you may end up with one of you're own and how that could possibly change your way of life like the protagonist in the book.
It starts out with him going to and x rated movie theater and watching a film named throat sprockets. He notices how this isn't any normal x-rated film and that it's about throats. Our protagonist eventually begins to fetishize throats himself and what one may taste like. His life unfoldes through the story about how this new taboo changes who he once was and the repercussions this film has done to him.
So now to the actual review and synopsis. I honestly enjoyed this book quite a bit. It has a unique take on what could be considered vampirism or a fetish and how in a random circumstance you may end up with one of you're own and how that could possibly change your way of life like the protagonist in the book.
It starts out with him going to and x rated movie theater and watching a film named throat sprockets. He notices how this isn't any normal x-rated film and that it's about throats. Our protagonist eventually begins to fetishize throats himself and what one may taste like. His life unfoldes through the story about how this new taboo changes who he once was and the repercussions this film has done to him.
October 29, 2017
"A city without theaters is a guilty city…"
My review of Throat Sprockets deserves a disclaimer of sorts. Before reading Tim Lucas’ debut novel, I always already familiar with the author through his work on the publication Video Watchdog, a semi-obscure magazine dedicated to obscure cinema that – in an age before DVDs and streaming downloads – could even be considered underground. Dismissive of mainstream films and obsessive over frame rates and screen ratios, Video Watchdog catered to a subculture of cinema junkies that preferred their films scratchy, subtitled, and subversive. It was a fan-based movement where exploitation flicks mingled with avant-garde cinema, and while I would later abandon Video Watchdog due to its dogmatic rejection of anything even remotely mainstream, it was a culture I was very much a part of, and an experience that informed much of my current attitude towards film. Because of my background with both the author of the book and its subject matter, my reaction and interpretation of Throat Sprockets is - to say the least – biased, and so the work may touch me in ways that others can’t perceive. As they say, you don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps. Nevertheless…
While the novel indeed explores the existential boundaries of love, devotion, and loss, it is above all else a love letter to those obsessed with film. In fact, the books overall themes of love, obsession, loss, and cinema are neatly foreshadowed in the book’s opening sentence:
"The first time I saw Throat Sprockets was at the old Eros Theater; it’s long gone, but I visit it often in memory."
This is no accident, as Lucas’ expertly crafted prose proves throughout the novel; like a director creating layers of meaning and subtext with a single camera move, Lucas injects depth and introspection into his masterful use of language that often borders on poetry. In a way, Lucas often appears to successfully translate the visual language of cinema onto the page, if such a thing is even possible.
The main story of the novel follows an unnamed narrator whose (flashback to Video Watchdog) disdain for mainstream cinema drives to inhabit porn grindhouses, where he first views the film that alters the course of his life, the titular Throat Sprockets. His eventual obsession with the film’s subject matter, while containing other subtexts, mirrors the horror film subculture that both thrived and met with societal backlash through the eighties into the nineties. Much like Throat Sprockets, the horror film fan base grew exponentially when specialty theaters gave way to the video age, and the narrator’s story of tracking down his obscure cinematic obsession directly references many of the same pathways and hurdles I personally experienced as a horror film fan during that age, including video rental stores, foreign imports, alternate versions (a regular staple of Video Watchdog), and the bootleg video market – anybody who ever purchased a fourth-generation dup from Video Search of Miami will relate to the narrator’s dealings with hardcore bootlegger Paul Hood. Even the conservative assault on horror films and their fans is represented with a talk show scene that blatantly mimics The Morton Downy Jr. Show. There are other indirect topical references to the period in which the book was written and takes place, such as this thinly-veiled critique of Pretty Woman:
"There I watched, and he slept through, My Fair Hooker (at least that’s what it should have been called), an overbudgeted trifle starring one of the most grating actresses I’ve ever seen."
Not all of Lucas’ topical references are nostalgic in nature; one line in particular, meant to gauge a discontent with political affairs at the time, haunted me when I read it twenty-five years after its 1992 publication:
"…I yearn for my country, where a failed educational system has undermined the reliability of majority rule and made elections a dangerous farce, where people persist in looking for east answers in a gridlock of gunmetal and bureaucracy…"
Of course, there is so much more going on in Throat Sprockets than film fanaticism. The narrator’s fascination with the film opens the doors to fetishism, societal disassociation, romantic longing and confusion, perversion, and all sorts of fun existential dilemmas. However, it is a film-lover’s surreal dementia through which these aspects are filtered, and it is that metaphor for the eternal search for a meaning to reality in the fabricated realm of forbidden entertainment which speaks deeply to my past participation in that misunderstood counter-culture (hence my opening disclaimer). However, you don’t need to be a member of the splatterpunk movement or Video Watchdog crowd to understand or connect with this novel, as Lucas’ Throat Sprockets – much like the novel’s cinematic namesake - easily transcends the source material, and imbues the audience with an unquenchable thirst.
My review of Throat Sprockets deserves a disclaimer of sorts. Before reading Tim Lucas’ debut novel, I always already familiar with the author through his work on the publication Video Watchdog, a semi-obscure magazine dedicated to obscure cinema that – in an age before DVDs and streaming downloads – could even be considered underground. Dismissive of mainstream films and obsessive over frame rates and screen ratios, Video Watchdog catered to a subculture of cinema junkies that preferred their films scratchy, subtitled, and subversive. It was a fan-based movement where exploitation flicks mingled with avant-garde cinema, and while I would later abandon Video Watchdog due to its dogmatic rejection of anything even remotely mainstream, it was a culture I was very much a part of, and an experience that informed much of my current attitude towards film. Because of my background with both the author of the book and its subject matter, my reaction and interpretation of Throat Sprockets is - to say the least – biased, and so the work may touch me in ways that others can’t perceive. As they say, you don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps. Nevertheless…
While the novel indeed explores the existential boundaries of love, devotion, and loss, it is above all else a love letter to those obsessed with film. In fact, the books overall themes of love, obsession, loss, and cinema are neatly foreshadowed in the book’s opening sentence:
"The first time I saw Throat Sprockets was at the old Eros Theater; it’s long gone, but I visit it often in memory."
This is no accident, as Lucas’ expertly crafted prose proves throughout the novel; like a director creating layers of meaning and subtext with a single camera move, Lucas injects depth and introspection into his masterful use of language that often borders on poetry. In a way, Lucas often appears to successfully translate the visual language of cinema onto the page, if such a thing is even possible.
The main story of the novel follows an unnamed narrator whose (flashback to Video Watchdog) disdain for mainstream cinema drives to inhabit porn grindhouses, where he first views the film that alters the course of his life, the titular Throat Sprockets. His eventual obsession with the film’s subject matter, while containing other subtexts, mirrors the horror film subculture that both thrived and met with societal backlash through the eighties into the nineties. Much like Throat Sprockets, the horror film fan base grew exponentially when specialty theaters gave way to the video age, and the narrator’s story of tracking down his obscure cinematic obsession directly references many of the same pathways and hurdles I personally experienced as a horror film fan during that age, including video rental stores, foreign imports, alternate versions (a regular staple of Video Watchdog), and the bootleg video market – anybody who ever purchased a fourth-generation dup from Video Search of Miami will relate to the narrator’s dealings with hardcore bootlegger Paul Hood. Even the conservative assault on horror films and their fans is represented with a talk show scene that blatantly mimics The Morton Downy Jr. Show. There are other indirect topical references to the period in which the book was written and takes place, such as this thinly-veiled critique of Pretty Woman:
"There I watched, and he slept through, My Fair Hooker (at least that’s what it should have been called), an overbudgeted trifle starring one of the most grating actresses I’ve ever seen."
Not all of Lucas’ topical references are nostalgic in nature; one line in particular, meant to gauge a discontent with political affairs at the time, haunted me when I read it twenty-five years after its 1992 publication:
"…I yearn for my country, where a failed educational system has undermined the reliability of majority rule and made elections a dangerous farce, where people persist in looking for east answers in a gridlock of gunmetal and bureaucracy…"
Of course, there is so much more going on in Throat Sprockets than film fanaticism. The narrator’s fascination with the film opens the doors to fetishism, societal disassociation, romantic longing and confusion, perversion, and all sorts of fun existential dilemmas. However, it is a film-lover’s surreal dementia through which these aspects are filtered, and it is that metaphor for the eternal search for a meaning to reality in the fabricated realm of forbidden entertainment which speaks deeply to my past participation in that misunderstood counter-culture (hence my opening disclaimer). However, you don’t need to be a member of the splatterpunk movement or Video Watchdog crowd to understand or connect with this novel, as Lucas’ Throat Sprockets – much like the novel’s cinematic namesake - easily transcends the source material, and imbues the audience with an unquenchable thirst.
June 25, 2010
I read this maybe five years ago, but was thinking about it today. It's a very strange "vampire" novel and more about obsession (in this case with a film) than about anything supernatural. Yet there is something strange in the way one man's obsession begins to spread and impact the world. It's not quite a horror novel, and not quite a thriller, but something in between.
Maybe if Orson Welles and Patricia Highsmith had a bastard son, he'd grow up to write a novel like this.
Maybe if Orson Welles and Patricia Highsmith had a bastard son, he'd grow up to write a novel like this.
November 4, 2025
So my copy is the Valancourt reprint, which is very important to note because it was updated which I don't think was indicated anywhere on the book itself. Perhaps it was in the introduction, but I usually skip the introduction so mea culpa if it is.
I was going to say "I think it was updated" but I mean, it's obvious it was. The original came out in 1994, my edition has lengthy sections that discuss streaming services and COVID.
This is personally annoying to me because I'd like to have read the original and unfortunately, there is a noticable quality dip once the sections that were clearly newly added or maybe just rewritten start. The writing isn't as consistent and I get the impression of treading water.
Which is a shame, because this is an incredibly solid horror novel beyond that. I've got a pretty obvious soft spot for 90s horror and Throat Sprockets is incredibly of its time- which is maybe why the rewrites feel so jarring, like watching a movie filmed in black and white and one of the characters references, I don't know, the 2020 election. I do think the idea of Throat Sprockets could be extended, successfully, into the 21st century but in that case, just write a bonus story doing that and leave the core of the book alone.
Throat Sprockets is also slightly unique for 90s horror because, while it obviously takes some inspiration for the juggernaut horror novel of the 90s, American Psycho, I think the actual inspiration for this novel is Crash by JG Ballard. You know, the car crash sex book. I don't think Tim Lucas is as clever as JG Ballard but the way the unnamed narrator's internal monologue plays out, and the sheer amount of Kommentary in this book reminded me a lot of Crash and that was jarring for me because despite it being one of the three books I recommend friends and strangers because I think it's fun (American Psycho and The Sluts are the other two, I just find it fascinating to see what people get out of them, I guess), I haven't honestly thought about the actual contents of that novel in years.
So the Kommentary. It's ben a long time since I've encountered metaphors and symbolism in horror as obviously as it is here, without outright telling the reader anything, if that makes sense. Throat sprocketing is a metaphor for the way media and advertising can manipulate the public, it's a metaphor for the AIDS epidemic and the growing visibility of the queer community (Nancy Reagan was maybe too strong a tip of the hand), it's a pretty presicent metaphor for porn addiction, too. Honestly, my biggest takeaway wasn't one that I necessarily think Tim Lucas saw coming, but it was that, as a woman, it was just kind of a sad reminder about existing as a woman and being reminded that any part of your body is someone's fetish. I don't often think about that because I don't really think of myself in terms of womanhood, I just kind of think of myself as me or sometimes as something that doesn't exist at all like a ghost so it was kind of jarring to read a scene in which the narrator fetishizes a knitting woman while I was knitting and reading this book and then coming to a realization about that and thinking "oh, I hope all the billions of times I've knit in public no one has ever thought similiar thoughts about me".
Also, because it's a 90s book, there's a lot of the usual commentary that's in pretty much all 90s books and movies regardless of genre- the whole "our society is too good and too prosperous right now so we're all empty and unfulfilled and depressed". It's always interesting going back and reading 90s books and watching 90s movies and thinking about recent articles I've seen about how teen depression rates are skyrocketing and then seeing those exact same talking points back in a time most consider better than the one we are living in now. Time is a circle.
I do think that this book was eerily ahead of its time when talking about porn, though. Or maybe not. The book Frisk which was an incredibly formative read for me has pretty much the exact same commentary about porn and that book came out I think three years prior to this one. Both of them are about the way porn can corrupt sex, and how badly porn can blur the lines between fantasy and reality. In Frisk, a young Dennis Cooper views snuff porn and gets set on a general path of depravity and in Throat Sprockets our unnamed narrator destroys his life in the pursuit of his new fetish- and he's not alone. That's where the books differ- Frisk is incredibly individualistic and Throat Sprockets is about society. The narrator of Frisk shares his name and occupation with the author, the narrator of Throat Sprockets has no name and works as an advertising executive, both to better project Everyman John onto him and to draw parallels with the advertising influences and corrupts and porn influences and corrupts. While reading, I thought of a rash of recent articles in the New York Times and The Atlantic, about how young people are increasingly opting out of sex and how part of that reason is that sex, due to the proliferation and ease of access of violent internet porn, has become, well, increasingly rough especially for young women though even young men don't seem to be enjoying it.
Anyway. Solid three star read, maybe three point five, knocked down from a four because the comparatively weaker second half. Still, a lot of good food for thought, and I'd recommend it to any fans of 90s horror or JG Ballad or preferably both.
I was going to say "I think it was updated" but I mean, it's obvious it was. The original came out in 1994, my edition has lengthy sections that discuss streaming services and COVID.
This is personally annoying to me because I'd like to have read the original and unfortunately, there is a noticable quality dip once the sections that were clearly newly added or maybe just rewritten start. The writing isn't as consistent and I get the impression of treading water.
Which is a shame, because this is an incredibly solid horror novel beyond that. I've got a pretty obvious soft spot for 90s horror and Throat Sprockets is incredibly of its time- which is maybe why the rewrites feel so jarring, like watching a movie filmed in black and white and one of the characters references, I don't know, the 2020 election. I do think the idea of Throat Sprockets could be extended, successfully, into the 21st century but in that case, just write a bonus story doing that and leave the core of the book alone.
Throat Sprockets is also slightly unique for 90s horror because, while it obviously takes some inspiration for the juggernaut horror novel of the 90s, American Psycho, I think the actual inspiration for this novel is Crash by JG Ballard. You know, the car crash sex book. I don't think Tim Lucas is as clever as JG Ballard but the way the unnamed narrator's internal monologue plays out, and the sheer amount of Kommentary in this book reminded me a lot of Crash and that was jarring for me because despite it being one of the three books I recommend friends and strangers because I think it's fun (American Psycho and The Sluts are the other two, I just find it fascinating to see what people get out of them, I guess), I haven't honestly thought about the actual contents of that novel in years.
So the Kommentary. It's ben a long time since I've encountered metaphors and symbolism in horror as obviously as it is here, without outright telling the reader anything, if that makes sense. Throat sprocketing is a metaphor for the way media and advertising can manipulate the public, it's a metaphor for the AIDS epidemic and the growing visibility of the queer community (Nancy Reagan was maybe too strong a tip of the hand), it's a pretty presicent metaphor for porn addiction, too. Honestly, my biggest takeaway wasn't one that I necessarily think Tim Lucas saw coming, but it was that, as a woman, it was just kind of a sad reminder about existing as a woman and being reminded that any part of your body is someone's fetish. I don't often think about that because I don't really think of myself in terms of womanhood, I just kind of think of myself as me or sometimes as something that doesn't exist at all like a ghost so it was kind of jarring to read a scene in which the narrator fetishizes a knitting woman while I was knitting and reading this book and then coming to a realization about that and thinking "oh, I hope all the billions of times I've knit in public no one has ever thought similiar thoughts about me".
Also, because it's a 90s book, there's a lot of the usual commentary that's in pretty much all 90s books and movies regardless of genre- the whole "our society is too good and too prosperous right now so we're all empty and unfulfilled and depressed". It's always interesting going back and reading 90s books and watching 90s movies and thinking about recent articles I've seen about how teen depression rates are skyrocketing and then seeing those exact same talking points back in a time most consider better than the one we are living in now. Time is a circle.
I do think that this book was eerily ahead of its time when talking about porn, though. Or maybe not. The book Frisk which was an incredibly formative read for me has pretty much the exact same commentary about porn and that book came out I think three years prior to this one. Both of them are about the way porn can corrupt sex, and how badly porn can blur the lines between fantasy and reality. In Frisk, a young Dennis Cooper views snuff porn and gets set on a general path of depravity and in Throat Sprockets our unnamed narrator destroys his life in the pursuit of his new fetish- and he's not alone. That's where the books differ- Frisk is incredibly individualistic and Throat Sprockets is about society. The narrator of Frisk shares his name and occupation with the author, the narrator of Throat Sprockets has no name and works as an advertising executive, both to better project Everyman John onto him and to draw parallels with the advertising influences and corrupts and porn influences and corrupts. While reading, I thought of a rash of recent articles in the New York Times and The Atlantic, about how young people are increasingly opting out of sex and how part of that reason is that sex, due to the proliferation and ease of access of violent internet porn, has become, well, increasingly rough especially for young women though even young men don't seem to be enjoying it.
Anyway. Solid three star read, maybe three point five, knocked down from a four because the comparatively weaker second half. Still, a lot of good food for thought, and I'd recommend it to any fans of 90s horror or JG Ballad or preferably both.
October 26, 2009
A superb piece of work, taking in the art of film, the wonderful trope of a lost film, vampirism and so much more, this is an astonishingly powerful book that deserves to be much wider read than it is. Excellent characterisation, a real chilly feel to the whole thing and simply stunning writing, this is very highly recommended.
October 30, 2025
"There’s not much of a plot,” I told him. “But it has an ‘about."
"For the taste of a little blood, I had thrown away an entire heart."
a wild ride- scary, horny, curious and trippy. Throat Sprokets is about a man whose life is completely consumed by a mysterious film centered around women's necks. The book is about obsession, escalationt, how we want what we cant have, true love, shame and asks the question - what is art?
our unnamed protagonist was a middling marketing pitchman who would sneak off to watch smut films during lunch. he randomly stumbled upon Throat Sprockets one afternoon and was changed forever. unlike the hardcore, mainstream trash that normally aired at the Eros, throat sprockets was artistic, subtle, enticing, begging to be explored. chasing the high of the first viewing, uncovering his own desires and lusts, desperate to completely understand and consume the film - our protagonist veered off the coast of his normal life in a small town into the peripheries of acceptability and sanity.
appalled at his new found dracula-esque fetish, his wife left him - inspired by this new imagery, his career blossomed. we learn that this film has reached a broader audience and has made its mark on society. people have their own relationships and interpretations of the film, cable news shows respond, theres backlash and backlash to the backlash. its taboo and mystery becomes a reason to engage.
the strangeness of it all made it more exciting - the mystery and lore of the film made it even bigger. chasing the high of that first viewing, to uncover bits of the story and to explore bits of yourself is what made Throat Sprokets propulsive to him- to know it completely- to view it in 4k as he did at the end -ruins the fun.
"Throat Sprockets’ personality, its allure, its mystery, were all tied up in its missing pieces. Its fractured form had presented me with a puzzle, a jigsaw demanding to be reconstructed. When this job was finally done through official channels, all I was left with was the awe I felt for my own emptiness. As I replaced the 4K disc of Throat Sprockets in its snapcase, I asked myself where my life had gone."
The book touches on pushing the boundaries of experimentation and intimacy. As exemplified by his happy if not safe and simple relationship with his wife Paige juxtaposed against this intense evolving physical relationship with Emma- we see how people love to push the envelope. Him and Paige were happy and in love but this film awakened something in him that he was desperate to explore- unable to safely and consensually express this with his wife, he found a willing partner in Emma... who ended up pushing him to far by literally trying to give her heart to him.
""And I thought to myself, It is . . . It really is . . . It’s better with someone you love.""
"She made the noises I knew she was capable of, as if each revolution was winding something inside her tighter and tighter, but I could feel nothing but an insulting nostalgia for a time of life when this kind of play had been enough to satisfy me. There was pleasure in it, but no release, no satisfaction, the greedy thirst of the navel is too legendary to quench, too old to awaken."
this book reeks of the 90s- from the fight club-esque narration / unreliable narrator, to the nihilism to the AIDs imagery. It takes the AIDS panic to its extreme with people literally drinking blood.
"It seems no one is having sex the old way anymore"
"All of us—the people who shaped society—were somehow touched by the same depression, and our blue funk was profiting no one but the businesses we represented in order to stay alive and in this pathetic state." <- tell me that couldnt be taken from fight club
The book is also about quarter life crisis - feeling trapped and settled. This was something to shake him out of his rut. something new, dangerous, and his own. this was an adventure, something that rooted him out of his sexual malaise, his social apathy and his creative complacency... its an excuse and a siren.
"“You’re what—late twenties?” “My thirties.” He smiled cryptically. “Well, there you go. That’s Danger Time, isn’t it? That’s the time of life when healthy young men find themselves going astray, standing alone in a dark wood, as the poet said. They enter into affairs, supposing that by—that by taking a bite out of life, shall we say, that they might somehow beat the odds and live forever."
"The time comes in every adventure when a man must ask himself if he is embracing the unknown because he cannot face the known. Ulysses was willing to go to Hades before he was willing to go home."
this book has a whole lot to explore and think about - its trippy and freaky and i think i wouldve gone 5* without the last 40 pages.
"For the taste of a little blood, I had thrown away an entire heart."
a wild ride- scary, horny, curious and trippy. Throat Sprokets is about a man whose life is completely consumed by a mysterious film centered around women's necks. The book is about obsession, escalationt, how we want what we cant have, true love, shame and asks the question - what is art?
our unnamed protagonist was a middling marketing pitchman who would sneak off to watch smut films during lunch. he randomly stumbled upon Throat Sprockets one afternoon and was changed forever. unlike the hardcore, mainstream trash that normally aired at the Eros, throat sprockets was artistic, subtle, enticing, begging to be explored. chasing the high of the first viewing, uncovering his own desires and lusts, desperate to completely understand and consume the film - our protagonist veered off the coast of his normal life in a small town into the peripheries of acceptability and sanity.
appalled at his new found dracula-esque fetish, his wife left him - inspired by this new imagery, his career blossomed. we learn that this film has reached a broader audience and has made its mark on society. people have their own relationships and interpretations of the film, cable news shows respond, theres backlash and backlash to the backlash. its taboo and mystery becomes a reason to engage.
the strangeness of it all made it more exciting - the mystery and lore of the film made it even bigger. chasing the high of that first viewing, to uncover bits of the story and to explore bits of yourself is what made Throat Sprokets propulsive to him- to know it completely- to view it in 4k as he did at the end -ruins the fun.
"Throat Sprockets’ personality, its allure, its mystery, were all tied up in its missing pieces. Its fractured form had presented me with a puzzle, a jigsaw demanding to be reconstructed. When this job was finally done through official channels, all I was left with was the awe I felt for my own emptiness. As I replaced the 4K disc of Throat Sprockets in its snapcase, I asked myself where my life had gone."
The book touches on pushing the boundaries of experimentation and intimacy. As exemplified by his happy if not safe and simple relationship with his wife Paige juxtaposed against this intense evolving physical relationship with Emma- we see how people love to push the envelope. Him and Paige were happy and in love but this film awakened something in him that he was desperate to explore- unable to safely and consensually express this with his wife, he found a willing partner in Emma... who ended up pushing him to far by literally trying to give her heart to him.
""And I thought to myself, It is . . . It really is . . . It’s better with someone you love.""
"She made the noises I knew she was capable of, as if each revolution was winding something inside her tighter and tighter, but I could feel nothing but an insulting nostalgia for a time of life when this kind of play had been enough to satisfy me. There was pleasure in it, but no release, no satisfaction, the greedy thirst of the navel is too legendary to quench, too old to awaken."
this book reeks of the 90s- from the fight club-esque narration / unreliable narrator, to the nihilism to the AIDs imagery. It takes the AIDS panic to its extreme with people literally drinking blood.
"It seems no one is having sex the old way anymore"
"All of us—the people who shaped society—were somehow touched by the same depression, and our blue funk was profiting no one but the businesses we represented in order to stay alive and in this pathetic state." <- tell me that couldnt be taken from fight club
The book is also about quarter life crisis - feeling trapped and settled. This was something to shake him out of his rut. something new, dangerous, and his own. this was an adventure, something that rooted him out of his sexual malaise, his social apathy and his creative complacency... its an excuse and a siren.
"“You’re what—late twenties?” “My thirties.” He smiled cryptically. “Well, there you go. That’s Danger Time, isn’t it? That’s the time of life when healthy young men find themselves going astray, standing alone in a dark wood, as the poet said. They enter into affairs, supposing that by—that by taking a bite out of life, shall we say, that they might somehow beat the odds and live forever."
"The time comes in every adventure when a man must ask himself if he is embracing the unknown because he cannot face the known. Ulysses was willing to go to Hades before he was willing to go home."
this book has a whole lot to explore and think about - its trippy and freaky and i think i wouldve gone 5* without the last 40 pages.
February 16, 2025
Reading this book feels very similar to what the nameless protagonist of the story experiences. Like him (in the form of an underground movie), we discover an experimental and mostly unknown piece of art. We feel fortunate to have found the book, and at the same time protective. Yes, I want to recommend it in the highest tones, but I also would never want it to go mainstream. Which is exactly what happens to the film in the novel.
And which, in a way, resonates with the themes in the book. "A novel of erotic obsession," it states on the cover. But it's a very private obsession at first. More a change in the personal perception of the world. And a way to find deeper connections to people in this world - a very superficial world that is, with our protagonist working in advertisement. Only when the movie in the book goes mainstream, the obsession becomes harmful, up to apocalyptic states.
Until this debut novel, Tim Lucas was a film critic, known mostly for the column and later magazine "Video Watchdog". As such, he was the pioneer of a film criticism that didn't care about big budget films, that rather watched old worn VHS copies than shiny pictures, and that much preferred flawed films with originality over perfectly constructed Hollywood movies.
Our protagonist spends his afternoon in a historical vaudeville cinema turned porn theater, just to find these small glimpses of original art, that big cinema can't provide. That's where he discovers the film THROAT SPROCKETS, an experimental, mosaic-like celebration of the female throat, which is described to us in lyrical depictions.
In this way, the author-function of Lucas weaves itself into the novel, making us complicit and sympathetic to the erotic perversion, that results out of the fixation on the movie.
The language of THROAT SPROCKETS does its due to absorb us into the spiralling obsession. Through scenes that are more surreal than dreamlike with numerous SPLICES (a term used to describe omitted parts in the collage-style editing of the movie) in the narrative, the book becomes increasingly pure conceptional.
In the end, Lucas leaves us with more thoughts about ourselves than about his writing. And that is the strength of a literary masterpiece.
And which, in a way, resonates with the themes in the book. "A novel of erotic obsession," it states on the cover. But it's a very private obsession at first. More a change in the personal perception of the world. And a way to find deeper connections to people in this world - a very superficial world that is, with our protagonist working in advertisement. Only when the movie in the book goes mainstream, the obsession becomes harmful, up to apocalyptic states.
Until this debut novel, Tim Lucas was a film critic, known mostly for the column and later magazine "Video Watchdog". As such, he was the pioneer of a film criticism that didn't care about big budget films, that rather watched old worn VHS copies than shiny pictures, and that much preferred flawed films with originality over perfectly constructed Hollywood movies.
Our protagonist spends his afternoon in a historical vaudeville cinema turned porn theater, just to find these small glimpses of original art, that big cinema can't provide. That's where he discovers the film THROAT SPROCKETS, an experimental, mosaic-like celebration of the female throat, which is described to us in lyrical depictions.
In this way, the author-function of Lucas weaves itself into the novel, making us complicit and sympathetic to the erotic perversion, that results out of the fixation on the movie.
The language of THROAT SPROCKETS does its due to absorb us into the spiralling obsession. Through scenes that are more surreal than dreamlike with numerous SPLICES (a term used to describe omitted parts in the collage-style editing of the movie) in the narrative, the book becomes increasingly pure conceptional.
In the end, Lucas leaves us with more thoughts about ourselves than about his writing. And that is the strength of a literary masterpiece.
May 11, 2025
Not my usual book, but I loved it.
It starts in a dingy erotic cinema when the narrator views a non-pornographic film "Throat Sprockets" that centres on women's throats with a hell of an ending. This book transforms the narrator who becomes obsessed with throats, leading to the break down of the relationship with his wife. He becomes a hugely successful advertising exec as he learns to channel his desire and the film's aesthetic into his consultancy. He has a series of short-term relationships with women who like throat play, as he struggles to come to terms with his kink. Then all of a sudden the entire country is gripped by a Throat Sprockets craze, leading to the Government purging the film. The book ends with an interview of someone involved in producing the film.
The writer is just funny. He plays with overwriting and manages to capture the absurdity of erotic obsession. I also loved how he wrote the "subculture" that formed around throat sprockets. And there's some great plot twists in the final chapter. I laughed when the interviewee said he tried to manipulate the director into ruining his career by sending him a series of magazine clippings. Only he didn't check the other side---the majority had images of womens' necks, which gave the director the idea of making the film. Genius.
I was also impressed by how the writer made it believable that people could form an erotic obsession with womens' necks, and that it could grip society. It reminds me of how Nabukov writing in Lolita, where he tries to make child love (/pedophilia) believable and even beautiful. Lucas was on a similar quest here and succeeded.
But mainly, this was a film about cinema. I don't know enough to follow the details, but that is Lucas' background. The idea that a film can transform an individual and society is obviously attractive to film people. Also, the final chapter is about the making of the film and the theories/beliefs of the director, especially the role of "splicing" and how that imapcts a viewer. So yep a book for film nerds.
Loved it. I picked it up while staying with family, who also found the book in a street clear-out. This makes me want to read more genres than just vanilla literary fiction.
It starts in a dingy erotic cinema when the narrator views a non-pornographic film "Throat Sprockets" that centres on women's throats with a hell of an ending. This book transforms the narrator who becomes obsessed with throats, leading to the break down of the relationship with his wife. He becomes a hugely successful advertising exec as he learns to channel his desire and the film's aesthetic into his consultancy. He has a series of short-term relationships with women who like throat play, as he struggles to come to terms with his kink. Then all of a sudden the entire country is gripped by a Throat Sprockets craze, leading to the Government purging the film. The book ends with an interview of someone involved in producing the film.
The writer is just funny. He plays with overwriting and manages to capture the absurdity of erotic obsession. I also loved how he wrote the "subculture" that formed around throat sprockets. And there's some great plot twists in the final chapter. I laughed when the interviewee said he tried to manipulate the director into ruining his career by sending him a series of magazine clippings. Only he didn't check the other side---the majority had images of womens' necks, which gave the director the idea of making the film. Genius.
I was also impressed by how the writer made it believable that people could form an erotic obsession with womens' necks, and that it could grip society. It reminds me of how Nabukov writing in Lolita, where he tries to make child love (/pedophilia) believable and even beautiful. Lucas was on a similar quest here and succeeded.
But mainly, this was a film about cinema. I don't know enough to follow the details, but that is Lucas' background. The idea that a film can transform an individual and society is obviously attractive to film people. Also, the final chapter is about the making of the film and the theories/beliefs of the director, especially the role of "splicing" and how that imapcts a viewer. So yep a book for film nerds.
Loved it. I picked it up while staying with family, who also found the book in a street clear-out. This makes me want to read more genres than just vanilla literary fiction.
April 7, 2020
A novel of fetishism and obsession, skirting the vampire aesthetic, and making clear Lucas's love of cinema, especially the early work of David Cronenberg, and the cult of the 'lost film'. Lucas's prose is often delightful, always absorbing - only occasionally clunky - but the fragmented narrative, more so as it goes on, doesn't always make for an easy read. Failing to really get his protagonist into the satirical underbelly of the advertising industry, jumping forward unheralded into new life situations, mean that this is a book of moments, sections of a life rather than the living of it, and the feeling remains that there's a much longer - possibly better - novel in here, or maybe only a much shorter one.
November 28, 2025
I put up with a lot of pretentious nonsense as I read, but I was fine with that. About halfway through, I thought about giving up. I soldiered on. And then I finishes the book, feeling underwhelmed.
Someone on Reddit mentioned this book. The opening of the text was interesting enough for me to buy it. But it was mostly disappointing.
Here's part of it. An author can choose to summarize a scene briefly, to get it over with, or describe it in detail. This book takes scenes where you should linger, and summarizes them. It takes scenes that should be glossed over and dwells on them for a long time.
The throat fetish thing was fun, and reminded me a lot of JG Ballard. But in the end, the book didn't do much for me.
Someone on Reddit mentioned this book. The opening of the text was interesting enough for me to buy it. But it was mostly disappointing.
Here's part of it. An author can choose to summarize a scene briefly, to get it over with, or describe it in detail. This book takes scenes where you should linger, and summarizes them. It takes scenes that should be glossed over and dwells on them for a long time.
The throat fetish thing was fun, and reminded me a lot of JG Ballard. But in the end, the book didn't do much for me.
October 17, 2025
Wer klassischen Horror sucht, ist hier falsch. Lucas‘ Buch ist vielmehr eine beissende Groteske über Anziehung und Obsession, Liebe und Verlust, über Film und dessen selbstmörderische Branche, über Werbung, Trend und Fetisch, über die Wirklichkeit und wie sie zur Fiktion wird, und nicht zuletzt darüber, wie Fiktion wiederum zur Wirklichkeit wird.
Ein Möbiusband über dem blutenden Hals, ach was, ums blutende Herz geschlungen!
4,5/10.
Ein Möbiusband über dem blutenden Hals, ach was, ums blutende Herz geschlungen!
4,5/10.
December 18, 2025
The Valancourt edition adds newly written material (everything after the hospital scene).
The text can be read in a number of ways, but for me the addition of the new material shifts the focus from obsession and compulsion and highlights how art and artists act as contagion and how the development of a moral panic takes place, written from inside the cause of the moral panic.
Definitely not for everyone.
The text can be read in a number of ways, but for me the addition of the new material shifts the focus from obsession and compulsion and highlights how art and artists act as contagion and how the development of a moral panic takes place, written from inside the cause of the moral panic.
Definitely not for everyone.
May 2, 2025
3.5 stars.
September 2, 2025
This guy did Video Watchdog and wrote this coy, funny horror novel? Check please! 5 stars! Sign me up!
September 27, 2025
This is an amazing book about loneliness, obsession, sex, and cinema told with heartbreaking compassion. In many ways, it's hard to define, and that makes it art. At least in my eyes.
Read
December 10, 2025this + phallos + times square red, times square blue
October 1, 2007
A gripping tale of obsession about (you guessed it) throat imagery. Sounds wacky, but I found the premise carried through pretty well. This book is out of print, so get thee to Amazon or your local used bookstore to get a copy (a shout-out to Green Apple in San Francisco, where I got mine - I miss you!).
January 13, 2009
A film called 'Throat Sprockets', an obscure film about throat fetishism takes over a man's life. Vampirism, but without any vampires, and therefore much more interesting/sexy.
January 31, 2011
Perverted and delicious in all the right ways.
October 13, 2020
Dark and lovely, one I had forgotten I read until a memory brought it back today.
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