Braddy Reads Mister B. Gone

Ever since I started exploring the world of horror movies, I've been curious to take a stab at horror fiction. So I picked up this little book by horror legend Clive Barker. Mister B. Gone tells the story of a demon who has been trapped within the pages of a book.

And that book... IS THE ONE YOU'RE HOLDING RIGHT NOW!

Actually, that's the entire reason I picked this particular book up. I love the idea of fiction having an impact on the "material" world, so to have a book consciously out to do you harm... That's a conceit I can get behind.

Sadly, the story itself is pretty lacking. We read the life of a demon from the Ninth Circle named Jakabok Botch or "Mister B," a nickname that comes literally out of nowhere and leads to one of the most forehead-slappingest title inserts I've ever read ("Mister B, be gone!"). For most of the book, Mister B is a pathetic, spineless coward, who goes to great lengths to describe just how wretched and disgusting he is.

On occasion, the demon breaks away from the narrative to play "mind games" with the reader - claiming he can read your innermost desires, commenting on the sweatiness of your palms, etc. Truthfully, these were the parts of the book I found most effective. I don't know that I ever felt anything close to fear from reading the book, but Clive Barker pulls some pretty skillful moves writing AS a demonic book. More than once I caught myself smirking and thought, "Wow, that was clever."

Again, though, the actual NARRATIVE is weak. Mister B isn't a character to fear or even pity. He's just disgusting. The few attempts that are actually made to turn Mister B the sniveller into an intimidating figure are so ridiculously over the top that I can't tell whether I'm supposed to laugh or dry-heave.

For example, there's a scene where Mister B is driven away from a local village after he has terrorized them for months. The villagers found his location because Mister B had gathered up a bunch of DEAD BABIES so he could BATHE IN BABY BLOOD. Apparently, there was a hole in the bag he used, so he LITERALLY LEFT A TRAIL OF DEAD BABIES that led right to him.

Actually, the fact that I find that funny may be a little scary in and of itself. Still, I didn't read Mister B. Gone to experience the fridge horror from unintentional comedy.

Sorry, Mr. Barker. I just didn't like your book.