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The Tattooed Rood
As a boy he had been known as "El Rubio," a ragamuffin pimp who made his few pesos leading sailors to his home, a waterfront bordello...
As a young man he was called Mario - handsome and experienced beyond his years in the debauchery and treachery of slave-trading Havana...
And then, suddenly, he was the Count of San Mateo - heir to a Spanish fortune - and bound for Spain to play the role of human stallion to a desperate, degenerate Queen...
The Tattooed Rood, a great new novel of a man branded with the terrible torture-mark of the Spanish Inquisition.
As a young man he was called Mario - handsome and experienced beyond his years in the debauchery and treachery of slave-trading Havana...
And then, suddenly, he was the Count of San Mateo - heir to a Spanish fortune - and bound for Spain to play the role of human stallion to a desperate, degenerate Queen...
The Tattooed Rood, a great new novel of a man branded with the terrible torture-mark of the Spanish Inquisition.
382 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1960
About the author
Kyle Onstott
23 books41 followers(Information from the article "The Master of Mandingo" by Rudy Maxa, which appeared in The Washington Post, July 13, 1975.)
The son of a midwestern general store owner, he moved to California with his widowed mother in the early 1900s and was a local breeder and judge in regional dog shows. He was an eccentric who was happy with a life of little work, ample cigarettes, and gin.
After collaborating with his adopted son on a book on dog breeding, he decided to write a book that would make him rich. Utilizing his son's anthropology research on West Africa, he handwrote Mandingo and his son served as editor. Denlinger's, a small Virginia publisher, released it and it became a national sensation, consumed by the public and derided by the critics.
After its paperback release by Fawcett, Onstott began his collaboration with Lance Horner, a Boston eccentric with a knack for recreating Onstott's style. The two men never met, but they collaborated on several books before Onstott's death, after which Horner continued the Falconhurst saga and penned other pulpy novels set in other eras. When Horner died in 1970, Fawcett signed prolific author Harry Whittington to continue writing Falconhurst tales under the name of Ashley Carter.
Although the Falconhurst series has sold near or over 15 million copies, it (and its authors) remain in the shadows of bestselling popular literature.
The son of a midwestern general store owner, he moved to California with his widowed mother in the early 1900s and was a local breeder and judge in regional dog shows. He was an eccentric who was happy with a life of little work, ample cigarettes, and gin.
After collaborating with his adopted son on a book on dog breeding, he decided to write a book that would make him rich. Utilizing his son's anthropology research on West Africa, he handwrote Mandingo and his son served as editor. Denlinger's, a small Virginia publisher, released it and it became a national sensation, consumed by the public and derided by the critics.
After its paperback release by Fawcett, Onstott began his collaboration with Lance Horner, a Boston eccentric with a knack for recreating Onstott's style. The two men never met, but they collaborated on several books before Onstott's death, after which Horner continued the Falconhurst saga and penned other pulpy novels set in other eras. When Horner died in 1970, Fawcett signed prolific author Harry Whittington to continue writing Falconhurst tales under the name of Ashley Carter.
Although the Falconhurst series has sold near or over 15 million copies, it (and its authors) remain in the shadows of bestselling popular literature.
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
April 4, 2018
"See that these chairs are transported back to Marrakech. Two men sat on them today. One started out in Corsica and became the greatest man in Europe. Another started out in the slums of Havana and sat beside the first as his equal. Surely the seats of two such hypocrites should be preserved for posterity."
Whatever else you might say about this book, one thing is clear: Onstott & Horner had a very low opinion of high-born aristocratic morals & organized religious mania. The hero, Mario, repeatedly curls his lip at hypocrisy in its many forms, & doesn't exempt himself from chastisement, though he carries an endearing disbelief in his luck throughout.
Likewise, this vintage pulp picaresque has a charming innocence that saves it from descending entirely into the muck of Purely Trash Braincandy. It feels more like a grainy Tony Curtis epic than anything else; Mario is Gary Stu personified, & the sex is either fade-to-black or couched in ludicrous euphemisms that refuse to take themselves seriously. Mario's rise from gutter-trash El Rubio to Count of San Mateo to a minor sheik to a Moroccan Emir's adopted son & Prince of the Blood is delightfully improbable; it smacks of a teenage boy's fantasy life, complete with I AM SPARTACUS!, untold luxury vs untenable squalor, narrow escapes from dire peril, star-crossed Twu Wuv, & boffing all the beautiful women en route to a long-sought HEA. All the good men love Mario, either literally or figuratively;** all the women want a piece of his peen, even if only for a night, & all the villains are disposed of neatly en route, either by Mario himself or his closest cohorts.
It's not poorly written, but character development comes in fits & starts, often falling by the wayside with wasted opportunities to really plumb the depths of why ____ does what they do or thinks what they think. Mario's troubled relationship with Catholicism, in particular, could have been fascinating, but was glossed over to the point of frustration (hence my rating). I would've also appreciated more pagetime for Zaydah, who was intriguing yet remained an enigma throughout.
3.5 stars. It was fun & had some genuinely gripping stuff, but it lacked consistent depth to the action & players. I did enjoy it, though. Despite the rocky pacing there was no question of whether I wanted to see the conclusion of Mario's journey.
**For a group of mostly-male characters who generally professed heterosexuality, there was a shitload of adorably latent homoeroticism. Some was on purpose, as it was revealed how so-and-so was "secretly" in love with Mario, but overall...well, in the words of Family Guy: "Cut, print, GAY."
Whatever else you might say about this book, one thing is clear: Onstott & Horner had a very low opinion of high-born aristocratic morals & organized religious mania. The hero, Mario, repeatedly curls his lip at hypocrisy in its many forms, & doesn't exempt himself from chastisement, though he carries an endearing disbelief in his luck throughout.
Likewise, this vintage pulp picaresque has a charming innocence that saves it from descending entirely into the muck of Purely Trash Braincandy. It feels more like a grainy Tony Curtis epic than anything else; Mario is Gary Stu personified, & the sex is either fade-to-black or couched in ludicrous euphemisms that refuse to take themselves seriously. Mario's rise from gutter-trash El Rubio to Count of San Mateo to a minor sheik to a Moroccan Emir's adopted son & Prince of the Blood is delightfully improbable; it smacks of a teenage boy's fantasy life, complete with I AM SPARTACUS!, untold luxury vs untenable squalor, narrow escapes from dire peril, star-crossed Twu Wuv, & boffing all the beautiful women en route to a long-sought HEA. All the good men love Mario, either literally or figuratively;** all the women want a piece of his peen, even if only for a night, & all the villains are disposed of neatly en route, either by Mario himself or his closest cohorts.
It's not poorly written, but character development comes in fits & starts, often falling by the wayside with wasted opportunities to really plumb the depths of why ____ does what they do or thinks what they think. Mario's troubled relationship with Catholicism, in particular, could have been fascinating, but was glossed over to the point of frustration (hence my rating). I would've also appreciated more pagetime for Zaydah, who was intriguing yet remained an enigma throughout.
3.5 stars. It was fun & had some genuinely gripping stuff, but it lacked consistent depth to the action & players. I did enjoy it, though. Despite the rocky pacing there was no question of whether I wanted to see the conclusion of Mario's journey.
**For a group of mostly-male characters who generally professed heterosexuality, there was a shitload of adorably latent homoeroticism. Some was on purpose, as it was revealed how so-and-so was "secretly" in love with Mario, but overall...well, in the words of Family Guy: "Cut, print, GAY."
January 29, 2018
This is the perfect read for your 1970s-1980s 13 year old -- you know, your younger self who is hungering for a copy of Playboy to learn about girls, and maybe is sneaking looks at Penthouse Forum for "real life tips" about how to...
Well, this one features a young man who is so irresistible to women that he is even motivated to complain about it 250 or pages in, because he is distressed that all these women want him for his physical assets, and not his highly busy little mind. It also features a fast moving plot, that travels from the slums of Havana, to Spain, and then, after a stop off at the dungeons of the Spanish Inquisition, Morocco. Our hero has to endure a few fights, some torture, and a few months of slavery, but mostly, he gets to rival Wilt Chamberlain in his encounters with women. Since he is every inch a true male, though, the encounters seem fast enough, and the quantity is more impressive than the quality. This ain't great erotic writing.
The frustrating thing here is that, well, this isn't total junk. The writer paces his work well, and he seems to have a point in mind about religion and religious fanaticism that would have worked in a more serious book. He's also got a great plot hook (the title gives it away) that, alas, is underutilized.
In other words, this is like a big bag of Oreos that you eat in one sitting. It is junk food, although there is some culinary merit. But it's just too much, not nourishing in the least, and you'll likely be just a bit ashamed and slightly queasy when you finish.
Well, this one features a young man who is so irresistible to women that he is even motivated to complain about it 250 or pages in, because he is distressed that all these women want him for his physical assets, and not his highly busy little mind. It also features a fast moving plot, that travels from the slums of Havana, to Spain, and then, after a stop off at the dungeons of the Spanish Inquisition, Morocco. Our hero has to endure a few fights, some torture, and a few months of slavery, but mostly, he gets to rival Wilt Chamberlain in his encounters with women. Since he is every inch a true male, though, the encounters seem fast enough, and the quantity is more impressive than the quality. This ain't great erotic writing.
The frustrating thing here is that, well, this isn't total junk. The writer paces his work well, and he seems to have a point in mind about religion and religious fanaticism that would have worked in a more serious book. He's also got a great plot hook (the title gives it away) that, alas, is underutilized.
In other words, this is like a big bag of Oreos that you eat in one sitting. It is junk food, although there is some culinary merit. But it's just too much, not nourishing in the least, and you'll likely be just a bit ashamed and slightly queasy when you finish.
December 29, 2013
This one is from my teenaged raunchy book period. At the time, it seemed delightfully decadent, though I'm sure by today's standards it is probably pretty tame. I'm pretty sure this one is hard to find. I can't remember the last time I saw a Kyle Onstott or Lance Horner book for sale. If you like historical fiction with more than a little sex, you'll probably enjoy this one.
March 7, 2025
Utterly divine trash. I would compare it to Forever Amber, if Amber was a dude. It is outrageously, scandalously perverse. It’s also such fun to read, and the constant sexualization of super-stud El Rubio, Mario, Conde de Mateo, Moslem prince is such a show. There were some characters that I hoped might return later in the story (Butch gay sailor, Conho, for one) but the progression from Cuba, to Spain, to Morocco did not allow it. It has a lot to say about religious fanatics, and their victims, and I was not disappointed at the ending, even though Mario is not fully likable, he does his best. Man, everybody wants to bang him! This almost counts as an LGBT novel, as at least 4 major characters are gay. As I say, it is trash, but the most enjoyable, and entertaining trash (also, historical fiction with a brief appearance by shrimpy Napoleon.) I may have to read Mandingo, now. Could it be trashier? I know it’s more famous.
May 7, 2020
I have read this book 40 yrs ago ..and now I found it again will read it agIn
December 12, 2020
Loved this book. Very hard to put down!
January 13, 2019
I love this book!
Want to Read
December 13, 2011I read this book at the tender age of 13 and it has never left me. I'm about to get it and read it again for the first time in over 30 + years.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews