"Theirs smells of sweat, sperm, and blood. In short, to my body and my thirsty soul it offers devotion. It was because their world contains these erotic conditions that I was bent on evil." - Jean Genet, The Thief's Journal The imagination of William Holden is one that values sweat and sperm and blood. And shadows to hide the rivulets of these fluids as they descend and drip from the naked flesh of men. These tales of homoerotic horror haunt a reader long after the eye moves from the last words on a page. Stories of a lecherous carnival barker who deal in breath and souls, a town where Halloween has become more than playful tricks and sweet treats, the promise of desire at the razor's edge of life and death.
"Theirs smells of sweat, sperm, and blood. In short, to my body and my thirsty soul it offers devotion. It was because their world contains these erotic conditions that I was bent on evil." - Jean Genet, The Thief's Journal The imagination of William Holden is one that values sweat and sperm and blood. And shadows to hide the rivulets of these fluids as they descend and drip from the naked flesh of men. These tales of homoerotic horror haunt a reader long after the eye moves from the last words on a page. Stories of a lecherous carnival barker who deal in breath and souls, a town where Halloween has become more than playful tricks and sweet treats, the promise of desire at the razor's edge of life and death.