| Title | : | Lost Souls |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0440212812 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780440212812 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 356 |
| Publication | : | First published September 1, 1992 |
| Awards | : | Locus Award Best Horror / Dark Fantasy Novel (1993), Lambda Literary Award Gay Men's Science Fiction/Fantasy (1993) |
Others are coming to Missing Mile tonight. Three beautiful, hip vagabonds - Molochai, Twig, and the seductive Zillah (whose eyes are as green as limes) are on their own lost journey; slaking their ancient thirst for blood, looking for supple young flesh.
They find it in Nothing and Ann, leading them on a mad, illicit road trip south to New Orleans. Over miles of dark highway, Ghost pursues, his powers guiding him on a journey to reach his destiny, to save Ann from her new companions, to save Nothing from himself...
Lost Souls Reviews
-
i haven't reread this since i've become an adult, and i've got the distinct feeling that doing so would just ruin it. so i likely never will.
but i'll always remember it as my firm favourite for all of high school. we almost got suspended together once. because my teachers couldn't tell the difference between fiction and nonfiction, even if i could.
so read it if you happen to be fifteen. otherwise i imagine it's a little too much. or read it if you're not fifteen and still in love with vampires and horror, because poppy is seriously gifted with the horror imagery. -
5 Would She Even Recognize Me Stars
I think it’s time I try to review this novel…. This will likely be a disaster.
“I still recall the taste of your tears.
Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears.
My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore.
Scraping through my head 'till I don't want to sleep anymore.”
Like so many young people before me, I always thought that sixteen was going to be my year. I was absolutely convinced that my life was going to irrevocably change within those 365 days. And it did! My life changed exponentially that year, it just didn’t change quite the way I always dreamt it would.
I was at a friend’s party when he walked into the room. Ruggedly handsome, with startling blue eyes, slightly crooked front teeth and a shock of dark brown hair artfully spiked up in the fashion of the day. A singer in a local metal band; he had tattoos, scars and an almost palpable aura of anger. He fascinated me, and when he turned those gorgeous blue eyes my way he would change my life forever.
It was this beautiful, angry young man who first put a copy of Lost Souls by Poppy Z. Brite into my trusting hands. (Like Jess’s ex fiancé this was his favourite book and he talked about it constantly.) In great sleep-depriving bites, I devoured it. This deranged novel about a teenage boy who meets a trio of vampires and becomes consumed by them. I don’t remember feeling the irony at that time, but in hindsight it’s undeniable, that this larger than life creature would put a book about a troubled young man named ‘Nothing’ into the hands of a sixteen year old girl who felt like nothing.
“You always were the one to show me how
Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now.
This thing is slowly taking me apart.
Grey would be the color if I had a heart.”
I could never figure out what he saw in me back then. When I looked in the mirror all I saw was a reflection of disappointment in resigned grey eyes, limp blonde hair and too-wide hips. Here was this God of a man (I taste bile in my throat even thinking this now but at the time it was true) telling me he loved me – a hundred times a day – and that I was his everything. This man who turned heads in every room we entered, who commanded so much attention that there was rarely any left for anyone else.
And he had this way of making me feel guilty if anyone paid more attention to me than him, he was poisonously jealous. Any time a boy talked to me, even if he was a mutual friend of ours, he would become crazed. Quizzing me about it at the best of times. Screaming into my face and punching walls at it's worst.
I fell in love with Lost Souls the same way I fell in love with him, entirely and without precedent.
This dark, deranged parody of love.
Consuming because it is both foreign and familiar. It’s a story as old as time. Obsession. Destruction. Dark monsters that come out of the woodwork when you are too exhausted to fight them, so instead you embrace them. Call them lovers and friends, when really they are eating you alive. Just like the darkness inside you.
I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of explaining why I love this novel, and always will. I think rather I may have inadvertently explained why I SHOULD probably hate this book. And all the poison and toxicity that even thinking of it brings back, like a dark blue bruise that is slowly fading to greens and yellows along the edges but still hurts like hell when you stare too hard at it. But I don’t hate it and I can’t hate it; any more than I can hate the sad-eyed girl with the fake smile staring back at me from pictures I keep in a box in my closet.
This book is a part of me, and maybe that part is a little ugly and a lot terrifying but I can’t deny that whenever I see this book on my shelf I run my finger along its binding and remind myself of that innocent sixteen year old girl. And what happened when she let someone make her their everything….
Night is the hardest time to be alive, and four a.m. knows all my secrets.
“In this place it seems like such a shame.
Though it all looks different now,
I know it's still the same
Everywhere I look you're all I see.
Just a fading fucking reminder of who I used to be.”
(Lyrics from ‘Something I Can Never Have’ by Nine Inch Nails) -
A crazy, almost plotless explosion of violence, wanderlust, and sexual energy, written when the author was nineteen and possibly a little nuts. A mixture of vampires and rootless young people roam around the south, meet up, split up, meet up again, kill each other, have sex, kill each other while having sex, get lonely, do drugs, and so on. She now mostly disowns it, which only makes it more fun to read as far as I'm concerned. Kind of like reading somebody's diary, or seeing their dreams. If you don't like it I guess I can't argue with you, but if you happen to read this before her later stuff don't let it turn you off of her completely, as her other work is very different.
-
Why yes I do feel like reading some dark vampire shit from the 90s
-
Buddy read with the lovely Sh3lly and lovely Kristin on May 9.
__________________________________
I think I might be ready to review this book. I'm up for a personal review I think.
My human bestie counts this book as her favorite, so when I saw it on sale for $2 on a visit to 2nd & Charles, I snagged it.
Because it is my human bestie's favorite book, she and I have had many conversations about why. What it is about this particular book that is so important to her and why she always looks back on it with that reverence reserved for only the best of the best, those rare books that somehow help define who we are or who we were or give our souls shapes and colors and flair. For me, that book is
The Stranger, for Karly, it is this one.
And I cannot say that this book affected me the same way it affected her, just as she can't say the same about my favorite. But I do understand more of why this book is her favorite. And in a weird way, this book affected me similarly.
This is a vampire book. An old school vampire book. These vampires do not sparkle. They do not wear black lace and ruby amulets. They do not don mullets and ride around Santa Barbara on motorcycles. They do not double as zombies. They do not turn into bats or live in Transylvania. They don't play in rock bands with snakes around their necks. No brooding. No capes. No haunted houses.
These vampires break into people's lives and wreak all sorts of havoc. These vampires kill without mercy and without remorse. They drink blood and green chartreuse and party and fuck anything and everything. These vampires truly have no souls. There is nothing but emptiness. Nothing.
Then these vampires meet a young runaway named Nothing. At first he is simply there, an easy target. A kid full of shame and self-loathing who epitomizes the early 90s goth scene. He doesn't fit in with his family or his friends. He feels so different and has no idea why. When the vampires Molochai, Twig, and their enigmatic leader Zillah meet Nothing, they only have their next meal on their minds. But maybe this young, mysteriously beautiful, dark soul has more in common with them than they think. And Nothing finally feels like he belongs to someone, for the first time in his short life. He and Zillah form a bond that is simultaneously beautiful and repellant. All-consuming and destructive, and totally vile, but also there is something there that shines briefly. And I can't really say anything else because spoilers, but those of you who have read this book know exactly what I'm talking about.
And that relationship between a vampire and a young goth kid kinda sums up this book. It is totally vile. There are some downright disgusting things at play here. Loathsome and foul. Things that no self-respecting girl likes to read about. But as I read, these things became.....lighter, less foul. Still raw, but somehow less so. And that's something I love in my books, my TV, my movies, my music. That fine line between two strong energies. Once it happened here, this book naturally started to pick up for me and show me its magic. Because this book is a vampire book, but its more than a vampire book. It's not really horror or paranormal. It's a book about identity. About finding yourself. Making mistakes and living with them. It's about those places deep inside you that you don't like people to see. That darkness which lives in each of us. It's about those who succumb to that darkness and those who rise above it. Each character has a darkness and a light inside of them and it became fascinating to see which characters embraced the darkness and which characters embraced the light. And the darkness and the light meant so much more than just "good" and "bad" and those blurry lines that realization created was the meat and potatoes of this story.
And these themes that this book embraces really spoke to me as I was reading. When I got about 50 pages in, something about this story seemed familiar. Almost too familiar. But I knew I had never read this story before. I was texting Karly asking her if it had become a movie or a TV show or a stupid TV miniseries. I kept reading but couldn't figure out how I knew it. About a third of the way through I was introduced to a character, a very unique albino character, and before I even got the story about this character I knew how this character would meet his end. How in the hell does that happen?
That's when I realized that not only is this my best friend's favorite book, it was also the favorite book of the man who almost became my husband. And he used to talk about it all the time which is why it became so familiar to me. It was the book he read when he was in school and throughout his life. It was a book that epitomized his childhood, and he is a man who has struggled with that inner darkness and his inner demons his entire life. So reading the remainder of this novel knowing what it meant to the man I used to love most in this world was a bit cathartic and a bit weird but also eye-opening. So though I found parts of this story repugnant and awful, this story forced me to read it through the glasses of the woman I was a decade ago when he and I were engaged. I was the art student who listened to Type O Negative and Bauhaus records on repeat. I smoked hash out of a homemade grafittied steamroller called "The Stinger." I drank and did pills every day. I wore tons of dark eyeliner and read The Stranger. I had no idea who I was nor who I wanted to be. And I was set to marry a man with even more demons than I had. And in retrospect, I know now that our relationship was doomed to fail even before his drug addiction tore us both apart. This book helped me recognize the darkness that was inside him the entire time. He was not a character like Ghost, who retained his cracked but pure inner beauty, but rather Ann, who took her experiences and let them turn her. Ghost is the only character in this book who epitomized hope. Life struck him down, and he was a character who was more sensitive than most. And Ghost at first seemed fragile, but had a strength in him that every other character lacked. Ann started out strong, but let her inner demons control her, causing her to make bad choices, choices that in the end, forced the demons to eat her alive. This part of the story broke my heart, because it was too reminiscent of the demise of the person I used to be and the life I used to live.
So yeah, this book..... It is a story that opened up something inside of me. Something raw and hidden. Something I wasn't expecting. This book embraces that whole 90s goth culture perfectly, but also captures the culture of New Orleans, a dark, seedy New Orleans that hides in the shadows. So that dark and twisty girl from ten years ago eats this for breakfast lunch and dinner. But the girl I am today probably would have blown it off. So this 4 stars is built of nostalgia and darkness and memories of a life already lived. I will always remember this book and keep it with me always, but I most likely will never read it again. I have it stashed somewhere with that past life, and that is where it needs to stay.
4 bittersweet stars -
I have the feeling I simply discovered Brite too late...Had I been 13 when I read this (and a bisexual, alcoholic orphan), I might have connected with it in ways that my 22-year-old self just wasn't able...
...But I hope not. It's one thing for genre fiction writers to develop a formula for writing their books (we see this all the time, not just in horror, but--a fortiori--in mysteries and thrillers), but Poppy seems to have developed a formula for writing chapters, even pages. All driving must take place under the influence of alcohol (and all alcohol must either be chartreuse or absinthe), especially when the character behind the wheel is underage; all sex must be homosexual or non-consensual (and preferably both); every scene must contain reference to either David Bowie, or an obvious goth band (Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy...).
I finished reading this book because it meant so much to a very dear friend of mine...but suffice it to say, it's been (and will continue to be) my last foray into Poppy Z. Brite's oeuvre. -
Everywhere you go these days, you can’t help but hear all the kids talking about Twilight: about how the vampires are so groundbreaking, how they can walk about during the day, about how their fangs don’t show until they need them, how the angst of these teen vampires just speaks to them. Now, I haven’t read Twilight, but I do have a few acquaintances (significantly younger than I) who can not get their fill of the brooding teen bloodsuckers, and I’ve heard more than my fill of the plots or the groundbreaking nature of the books. Except, you know what? None of it sounds particularly groundbreaking to me, and I have to point out to the fans of this newest vampiric incarnation that much of what they are describing has been done before and–from what excerpts I’ve read of Twilight and the various literary reviews–done better.
Since Stoker first published Dracula in 1897, vampires have fascinated readers and writers alike, and vampire fiction has gone through every cycle of life and death imaginable ever since. The vampire literary genre has been declared dead more times than Elvis has been sighted in roadside diners. And just when you count (pun entirely intended) the bloodsuckers out, someone slips through and breathes new life into the old beast. George R.R. Martin wrote the fascinating Fevre Dream and in the process re-imagined what everyone thought of as vampires. And of course Anne Rice, in her overly verbose way, created one of the literary world’s most enduring vampires in Lestat from her wildly successful Vampire Chronicles series of novels. And then the genre once again lapsed into a coma, every vampire thereafter becoming a deeply affected, brooding, depressive, sexually ambiguous prettyboy who tended to whine over every little problem being undead brought along. Once again, the vampire became anemic in its portrayal, and the world again decried that there could be nothing new. And then, in 1992, up-and-coming short story horror writer Poppy Z. Brite surprised everyone by spinning the vampire lore on its head with her remarkable debut novel, Lost Souls.
The plot of Lost Souls really is very simple. Zillah and his vampire cohorts Molochai and Twin, venture into an off-the-beaten path bar in New Orleans where Zillah becomes enamored with a young girl, brooding and dressed all in black, who has been waiting for the vampires–any vampires–to come for her. After a few nights of passion, Zillah and his pals disappear into the night, leaving the girl devastated that they hadn’t taken her with them, or better yet, turned her into one of them. She returns to the bar night after night, week after week and month after month, as Zillah’s baby grows in her stomach, and the bar’s kindly owner Christian–who knows a thing or two about vampires–looks after her. When the baby finally tears its way through her body, the girl’s life ends and Christian leaves the young baby on the doorstep of a family as far from New Orleans as he can manage. Flash forward 15 years, and that child has grown into a young man, someone who doesn’t know why he is different from everyone else, why his heart is filled with a longing to find where he truly belongs. His name is Jason, but he calls himself Nothing because that is what he feels like in his parent’s Wonder Bread world, and that was the name given him in the note left pinned to his blanket when he was left at his adoptive parents’ door: His name is Nothing. Care for him and he will bring you luck. It is when Nothing discovers the note and the fact that he was adopted that he decides to find who he truly is, where he truly belongs and he goes on a road trip headed…well, headed wherever the road takes him.
As Nothing goes on his journey, we also catch up again with Zillah his crew as they drink chartreuse and eat Ho-Hos and revel in the joy of being young and eternal. In short, they relish being vampires. No regrets, no brooding angst here. We also get a third road trip as we meet Steve–a shit-kicker from South Carolina–and his best friend Ghost–a painfully thin young man with psychic abilities–as the two do a mini-tour as Lost Souls, a rock band that has developed a cult-like following amongst the disaffected and outcast goth youth. And one of those youths just happens to be Nothing. It is then that we realize that these three different road trips will all come crashing together, and we’re fascinated to see just how Brite manages it.
What made Brite’s vampires so groundbreaking is the blend of the gothic scene, vampiric lore, and honest to god real people with real depth and emotion. Brite threw out most of the vampire clichés, however. Brite’s boys have no problem with sunlight, and their fangs have been bred out of them, forcing them to file their teeth into sharp points, and–in a really nice turn–the appealing bad boy Zillah is not some tall lanky creature and his cohorts are not ultra cunning. Zillah is short, but still enigmatic and charming, and Molochai and Twig…well, let’s just say that the vampiric chandelier has had brighter bulbs. The vampires here of course love blood, but they revel just as easily in the haze of alcohol and drugs and the taste of each others’ bodies. And Brite did something else that hadn’t been done before….she didn’t mince words one bit when it came to her character’s sexuality. Unlike Rice who cloaked her characters in a mist of homoeroticism, Brite went balls-out and made her vampires bi-sexual or gay, the body being one of the extreme pleasures in life that shouldn’t be discriminated against. Brite (who has admittedly never read Ann Rice, despite claims by many that she had to be influenced by her) also threw out the verbosity that had choked the genre, making her prose clean and crisp and evocative. She created not only the feelings of her characters in precise ways, but also used her words to capture the sights and smells and essence of her settings, each locale becoming a character in its own right. She veered into purple prose upon occasion, but the images she created were stunning and utterly true in every way.
But the characters she created are the heart of the story. Nothing’s longing to learn who he is and where he comes from is palpable. It’s not so very different from the feelings most adopted children feel when they lean their parents are not who they believed them to be. The childlike joy in the vampires Molochai and Twig is infectious, as is the viciousness and pride Zillah takes in being omnipotent, or so he thinks. And while all the characters resonated with readers, none were quite as appealing as Steve and Ghost. There is so much love between these two men and so strong is the need for them to be there for, and to protect, one another, that their relationship transcend brotherhood and friendship. The dynamic is so utterly real that one even began to wonder if Steve and Ghost were ever more to one another than just friends. The relationship Brite created between these two men was erection inducing for a lot of us. We wanted to see these two together, but this was not some calculated trick of Brite’s. She simply wrote two men who would be lost souls without each other, and we the reader just wanted (and in some cases needed) it to go beyond that. It was masterful, and years later–because the topic was such a fervent one amongst Brite’s fans–she would answer the question as to whether Steve and Ghost’s relationship was ever more than just friends in a limited edition chapbook (no longer available).
In the end, Brite re-wrote the book on vampires. She blended splatterpunk and the gothic scene and vampire mythology into an excellent character study about finding who you are and how you fit in. It’s a story of self-discovery and the building of families and for once it was a story that spoke to and included my kind, gay people, in an unabashed, unapologetic way. There was nothing wrong with being gay any more than there was anything wrong with being a vampire; it all comes down to each person and how they react and treat others.
Unfortunately, many stood on Brite’s shoulder’s after Lost Souls, and the literary world was so glutted with vampire-meets-goth-rock novels, that those new to the novel often find it cliché. But, as I like to remind people, when Brite wrote the work, most of this was new and exciting. It has only become cliché because of the pale imitations that followed. So when your niece or nephew comes to you to rave about Twilight, tell them they don’t know Nothing…or his father…or his favorite band, Lost Souls, all of whom have been there and done that…likely before they were born.
Originally reviewed for
Uniquely Pleasurable. -
This book was hard to get through, for me. I really loved the author's prose but there was just too much of it. If this book would have had a good editorial trimming it could have been an slightly, above average read.
As it is, I find it overflowing with a lot of pretty unwanted filler. This made it a very slow read.
The vampire feeds were nicely gruesome and erotic. But, the storyline gets lost repeatedly. The author is very descriptive of certain characters and then others have no flesh. The last chapter and epilogue were better written. Unfortunately this better pace, compared to the rest of the book, made it feel rushed.
I kept finding myself wanting to take a literary knife to the book to cut away the dead skin. I am repeating myself, so I am done.
I give 2 1/2 Fangs Round up to 3
+ 🔖I am going to re-read this one with more time dedicated to it. -
This book has haunted my waking hours since the first time I read it as a troubled teen. I needed someone to relate to in those days, I needed to know that I was not alone in this crazy, fucked-up world, and then I met Nothing. I traveled with him on his journey, meeting Zillah - a perfect, deadly, damnable, heartbreaking, irresistible bastard - and fell as much in love with him as Nothing did, living vicariously through him as he drank blood, smoked opium, and savored the taste of home on Zillah's tongue. I met Christian and saw into the darkness of his soul, peering through his eyes to witness the melancholy of eternal existence with only your memories to keep you company. I loved him too, much as I loved Ghost for being a young man with an old soul, fair-haired and extraordinary, willing to sacrifice everything for the bits of ordinary he had to hold onto, like Steve. Steve, the brash, crude musician - I didn't like him any more than I liked Anne, she in all her desperation to find something beautiful to leech onto. I wanted to feel for her, but honestly couldn't blame Zillah when he tossed her aside, having no use for her once her body had indulged his hedonistic pleasures. Zillah, with eyes green as limes, as green as the last drop of Chartreuse in the bottle. The vision of those eyes will haunt me forever, and as long as they do, this is a novel I will keep coming back to, for comfort, and a reminder that we are all just a bunch of lost souls wandering around this lonely planet.
-
2.5
Si lo hubiera leído a los 15 años, me hubiera enloquecido. Me gusta la naturaleza transgresora de estos vampiros y entiendo de dónde viene, la cosa es que hoy en día me pareció casi una parodia del "darks". El tratamiento a las mujeres en esta historia es horrible (Billy Martin aka Poppy ha comentado que esto tiene que ver con la disforia de género que estaba experimentando pero igual me incomodó mucho ver a Jessi y a Ann solo como objetos). Igual en algunos momentos me dio nostalgia por esas noches bailando en el Real Under y escuchando a Bauhaus. -
This was the third time I read this book, and the third time I developed an overwelming desire to move to New Orleans (pre-Katrina obviously) in order to spend the rest of my days drinking absinthe and stumbling around the French Quarter in search of all the wonderfully sensual alluring vampires of both Anne Rice and Poppy Z. Brite's novels.
Of course I didn't do that, but the mental image conjoured up by this novel couldn't be a stronger draw. It is the first of PzB's novels to feature the loveable twosome of Steve and Ghost and it is the only novel to feature the fabulous character of Nothing. Disillusioned teenager Nothing feels he has nothing in common with his birth parents, and on running away to meet his heros, the band 'Lost Souls', he finds himself travelling in a van with three individuals who don't find his liking for drinking blood strange at all.....
I would go on, but this is a book that I could quite easily write pages on. So all I'll say now is that if you only ever read one horror novel in your lifetime, make it this one. -
Set between New Orleans and the fictional Missing Mile, Lost Souls tells the stories of several characters, including some vampires, whose trajectories intertwine.
We have an array of wonderful characters here and I could have spent any amount of time following their stories quite happily. Christian is a very old, and very old-school, vampire and his way of life is somewhat strict. The younger group of vampires, Zillah, Molochai and Twig, are a slightly different breed and can get up to all sorts of debauchery. Nothing is a teenage goth who feels like he doesn't belong where he is and embarks on a journey to find out where he is meant to be. Steve and Ghost have a long-standing and strong friendship and form the band Lost Souls? And Ann, Steve's ex, is on her own journey of self-discovery.
Journeys play a large role in this story both in literal roadtrip form and of the personal and emotional kind. Each character is yearning and searching for something whether that be the next high or something more substantial and long-lasting. Relationships are also a big part of the story including friendships, found family, romantic and sexual relationships. This novel has such a strong atmosphere and tone that I love. It's decadent and sumptuous, very goth and very gay. This was a reread for me, the first time being as a teenager during my goth-vampire 'phase' and it was high time for me to revisit it. I thoroughly enjoyed the focus on the goth subculture and name-dropping of bands like The Cure and Bauhaus. Basically, this is a vampire novel with sex, violence, drugs, music...all of that badass rock n roll stuff and I highly recommend it. -
Stephen King endorsed the entire Dell Abyss Horror line. Here is his blurb:
"Thank you for introducing me to the remarkable line of novels currently being issued under Dell's Abyss imprint. I have given a great many blurbs over the last twelve years or so, but this one marks two firsts: first unsolicited blurb (I called you) and the first time I have blurbed a whole line of books. In terms of quality, production, and plain old story-telling reliability (that's the bottom line, isn't it), Dell's new line is amazingly satisfying...a rare and wonderful bargain for readers. I hope to be looking into the Abyss for a long time to come."
I read this book twice I loved it so much. It was the first book I'd read by Poppy Z. Brite and wasn't my last. Highly recommended; especially for vampire fans. -
I'm sorry my lovely vampire ninja, I tried, I really did. I loved Ghost, felt for Steve, but the the rest, the rest were either boring, crazy, or flat. Overall, I kept getting bored and skeeved out. I'm a pansy :/ But incest, just no. I honestly didn't think I would make it after or even after the Albino. But it is more than that, I didn't feel that there was any point to the gross and gory parts other than for shock factor, which I find annoying.
So now we are two-for-two on my goyles favorites and me not being a fan. I'm not sure why they put up with me. Mea culpa.
-
No lo recomiendo PARA NADA
-
one word: yikes!
i know this is some gay vampire fantasy novel but OH BOY, women sure do get a short straw in this book. there are two vaguely important female characters (and even then they probably take up 5% of the whole book combined) and they both die because they get pregnant? in this world it seems women only exist so they can get knocked up with gay vampires so the other gay vampires can have sex with them. but when we say sex... this book really wants to be ~*edgy~* with all the death and blood and vomit and incest but none of the male characters ever actually have full penetrative sex, they mostly just do a lot of kissing (with lots of tongues - so many descriptions of the inside of people's mouths in this)
also wow some great racism here, where they eat someone of indian origin and her blood is spicy and exotic. also a lot of dodgy weight stuff, with all the main characters being very under-weight and lots of descriptions of their ribs and hips bones jutting out of their skin. AND there are multiple references to self harming scars in character descriptions alongside their clothes, so they read like accessories.
basically so much bad, but really what to you expect from a early 90's goth fantasy?
ps. there is so much dodgy stuff in this novel that i forgot that the protagonist (and basically the 'hero') rapes his girlfriend at one point. i think it's to show how ~*tortured~* he is, but again, just a big ol' bucket of yikes from me. -
If you're going through puberty and feeling weird, this is a great book to read. With enough vampires, gay sex, incest and goth clubbing to satisfy any young misunderstood oddball (and truthfully, I have never been in a single goth club that played "Bela Lugosi's Dead" even once, let alone every night), this is a fun piece of wish-fulfillment. Dark, twisted, unbelieavable and not particularly sophisticated, I'd recommend this to anyone wearing Crow makeup in a rural town in the midwest.
-
Ομολογώ δεν ξέρω αν το βιβλίο έχει "γεράσει" καλά. Δεν το έχω πιάσει στα χέρια μου σχεδόν δύο δεκαετίες, αλλά πριν ενδεχομένως το ξανακοιτάξω και κατακρημνιστεί στα μάτια μου, θα το βαθμολογήσω ως αυτό που ήταν, την εποχή που ήταν: μια εισαγωγή στο southern gothic, ωμή και ακαλαφάτιστη, που ειδικά στην αρχή, όταν δεν ήξερες τι να περιμένεις, σ' έκανε να νιώθεις ΠΟΛΥ άβολα.
Περαιτέρω, ήταν ίσως η πρώτη μου επαφή με την εικόνα ή την ιδέα της εικόνας της Νέας Ορλεάνης, με το μυστήριο, τον μυστικισμό, το βουντού και τη σήψη του βάλτου, πριν ακόμα διαβάσω το Call of Chtulhu.
Από εκείνο το σημείο και πέρα, οι δικές μου πλοκές, είτε στα roleplaying games, είτε αργότερα συγγραφικά, συχνά θα επέστρεφαν στη Βασίλισσα του Μισισιπή.
Σε κάθε περίπτωση, είναι ένα βιβλίο με έντονες σεξουαλικές απεικονίσεις όλων των ειδών (με μια έμφαση στις ομοφυλοφιλικές μάλλον), που παραμένουν καλύτερες από οτιδήποτε παρόμοιο έχει γράψει η Charlaine Harris (στης οποίας τα βιβλία βασίστηκε το True Blood). Πάνω από όλα, μου αρέσει που οι βρικόλακες της Brite είναι κατά βάση αθάνατα καθάρματα και όχι ρομαντικοί τζιτζιφιόγκοι. -
dnf @ page 69
i have no idea why i couldn't get into this one. in theory, it's exactly the sort of book i should have loved. and yet, i can barely get myself to read more than one page. it's probably time i packed it in. -
Un Ghost
Un Nothing
Un grupo de Vams
Si bien se siente el "teen angst" a todo lo que da, y tiene un aura muy de querer ser controversial usando algunas tematicas tanto no usuales como ilegales.
Pero tiene algunas cosas muy interesantes, como la explicacion de los vampiros, todo alrededor de Ghost. Pero tambien otras un tanto outdated, como el personaje de Ann y un poco el de Nothing.
3.2 stars -
The other day I had to drive somewhere and my iPod was dead. At first this was annoying. Then I was like, "I'm reading LOST SOULS. I'll just listen to my goth mix!" So I put in my Gotharama Pt. 2 mix (Pt. 1 got lost) and wouldn't you know it, the first song on there was by Bauhaus. But it wasn't "Bela Lugosi's Dead," it was "She's in Parties." And there were a lot of other quality goth bands on the CD and no more Bauhaus.
My point is Brite mentions Bauhaus a lot in this book. And I do love them. And Peter Murphy kinda slays me.
(Imagine my utter dismay when I was Googling for this image and I found out he'd been arrested last year for meth and a hit and run. NOOOO PETER YOU ARE A GOD YOU DO NOT NEED METH WHY /rant.)
Anyway, there are also road trips in this book. I love road trips, too. But unlike the characters in this book, I prefer to shower while traveling the countryside.
This book itself was like a road trip, especially if you're driving with just one of those old-fashioned road atlases (ahem, me) and no GPS. There are some interesting sights, a lot of unexpected stops, and a few roads to nowhere. Sometimes you feel gross. And sometimes you're like "What the fuck is happening right now?" (You don't actually have to be on a road trip for that last one.)
Steve is the coolest character.
Ghost is pretty cool.
Ann was pretty cool and all of a sudden she did a complete WTF.
Zillah reminds me of Prince and I have no idea why anyone was sexually attracted to him.
I can't help feeling that writing about the French Quarter in New Orleans is like writing about the Strip in Las Vegas. Boring, seen it. Let's move on to other parts of the city.
I might have enjoyed this book more if I'd read it when I was younger. But there were still some pretty cool moments , and the prologue was awesome. So if you don't read any other part of this book, you should read that. -
I brought this book with me on vacation, along with 6 others (what can I say, I'm finicky). After putting one book aside out of complete boredom I feared nothing would hold my attention. I ended up plowing my way through 280 pages of Lost Souls before I knew it. Being that its been nearly 12 years since I originally read it, I wasn't surprised to realize that only vague images and memories of lush prose had stuck with me and that I had forgotten all about the basic plot line. I figured jaded me would soon tire of the gothic kids but I think I enjoyed this even more the second time around. I don't, however, remember being struck by the fact during my first reading the only female character in the story was a victimized, bewitched, weak-willed 20-something with horrible taste in men. Ann's character and all of her mooning bugged me.
Funny, with the exception of Ghost, there isn't a character here who is redeemable and truly likable (in my eyes) yet I enjoyed every page of the book . . . -
This was my first time reading any PZB and all I can say is...woh! I feel like I crawled into the pages in a way I really haven't before thanks to the descriptive nature of the writing!
-
Maybe I’m showing my age, but I remember a time when vampires were actually scary and cool, long before Stephenie Meyer ruined vampires for everybody. I grew up in a time when (Okay, sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a grumpy old man here…) vampires weren’t heart-throbs or emo snowflakes or looked like Jared Leto. I remember when vampires would rip your throats out and they looked like Keifer Sutherland.
I guess the heyday of “cool” vampires was the ‘80s; when Anne Rice churned out a series of vampire novels that were consistently on best-seller lists; when movies like “Fright Night”, “The Lost Boys”, “Near Dark”, and “Lifeforce” were frightening audiences by reinventing the vampire mythos; when vampires were Goth and sexy and bisexual and threatening. (It was the 80s, which was an extremely homophobic era in which being gay, transgender, or “gender-fluid” was simply too much for the average person’s mind to comprehend or accept, so vampires kind of became an acceptable way of talking about the issues without really talking about the issues.)
In the early 90s, Poppy Z. Brite arrived on the scene with a series of vampire novels, the first published being “Lost Souls”. Brite (who goes by the name Billy Martin, and the pronouns “he/him”, nowadays) was writing for a particular audience: teenagers and young adults who didn’t quite fit in in a heterocentric world. His characters were often frightened, abused, or misunderstood children simply trying to find connection, albeit a sexual, platonic, or spiritual one. They often found the wrong kind of connection with otherworldly or supernatural creatures that took advantage of their fears and sense of isolation.
Here’s the kicker: Brite is a helluva beautiful writer. I say this only because he was writing in a genre—-and during an era of that particular genre—-in which beautiful writing didn’t always get recognized. Indeed, in some cases, stellar prose writing was often a negative in a genre where some fans extolled the amount of gore and body-counts rather than character development and plot.
And I’m ashamed to say that I’m just now, in 2022, reading my first Brite novel.
I’m not gonna lie: “Lost Souls” is fucking awesome. It perfectly captures a time and place in American history that I remember clearly. (Okay, somewhat clearly, as I was drunk through quite a bit of it.) I never embraced the Goth scene, but I had many crushes on goth-chicks, many of whom either thought (or at least wished) that they were vampires or white witches. Hell, reading this book even brought to mind the soundtrack of that very specific time-frame: Bauhaus, David Bowie, the Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees. I feel like I’ve been to some of the seedy, dimly-lit bars and hovels that the kids in this book hang out in. I remember lusting after, and clumsily fondling, the “boy/girls” or “girl/boys” that could have been either Siouxsie Sioux or Robert Smith. I didn’t care: I loved them both.
I suppose it helps that I’m reading this book now, at age 50, where my sense of self and sexual identity is far more firmly established, rather than when it first came out, when I was 20, where it wasn’t. My take-away would have been much different then. Today, I look at these kids in this book from the perspective of a father, wanting to give them hugs and letting them know that they weren’t exempt or boycotted from love and acceptance.
I would very much love to see what happened to Ghost and Steve and Nothing, thirty years later. -
I received this audiobook for review from Crossroad Press through Audiobook Jukebox's Solid Gold Reviewer Program. I did not receive any compensation for my review, and the views expressed herein are my own.
I love vampires, and I love audiobooks – so I jumped at the chance to review a vampire audiobook! It was not at all what I expected.
Lost Souls is about three androgynous bisexual (although mostly homosexual) vampires: Zillah (the leader) and his two sidekicks (Molochai and Twig). They come to New Orleans to party during Mardi Gras and they come across a bar that is owned by a vampire named Christian. There is an underage human girl (Jessy) at the bar, and she winds up having sex with Zillah while Christian has sex with Molochai and Twig. Jessy discovers that she is pregnant long after Zillah and his cronies have left New Orleans. Knowing that human females tend to not survive vampire childbirths, Christian takes Jessy in and has a sexual relationship with her throughout her pregnancy. She does indeed die during childbirth and has a boy whom Christian names “Nothing.” Hoping to spare him of his destiny, Christian leaves Nothing on a doorstep and hopes the couple will love him as their own and that Nothing will never know of his true identity.
The book then jumps ahead 15 years when Nothing is a teenager, and he feels that he is totally misunderstood. He decides to run away and find the singers of a band whom he idolizes, and he hitches rides to the town where they live. He turns some tricks here and there, and then is picked up by Zillah, Molochai, and Twig. The vampire trio first intended to drain him, but instead have sex with him. Yes, that’s right...Zillah has sex with his son, unbeknownst to him.
From here, the book continues on a downward spiral. This was not so much a vampire story, but more a story of getting high, getting drunk, and getting laid. I am a pretty open-minded person, and I wasn’t so much bothered by the M/M and M/M/M and even M/M/M/M action – different strokes for different folks and all that. I am not one to judge, and it takes a lot to shock me. But it did really bother me when Zillah and Nothing hooked up. But wait, it gets worse: They do eventually discover that Zillah is Nothing’s father, but they still continue having a sexual relationship! And Christian even tries to justify it saying that there are so few of their race left and that, if they can make each other happy, why not? Ok, this is disturbing. Christian also eventually has sex with Nothing, which brings on a whole new level of “ewwwwww” since he had sex with Nothing’s mother and is now having sex with her son.
Let's recap: This book contains teenage prostitution, incest, sex with minors (statutory rape), and there was even an incident of rape. There was also another occurrence of incest, this time father/daughter, that I won’t even go into because it was just too offensive.
I did not find this book entertaining. I found it dark and disturbing. It was not at all what I expected, and I will be steering clear of this author in the future!
The narrator, Chris Patton, did a fine job with the book. His voice was clear and expressive, and he was probably what kept me listening despite the book’s content.
MY RATING: 1 star. I did not enjoy it at all. This was not for me. -
A gothic tale of black leather pants, angst, booze, DIY shows, dive bars, incest, bloodsucking and pedophilia, Brite's debut novel is a charming display of decadence in grungy excess. Nearly every page is wrought with sensual descriptions of booze, blood, food, flesh, boy love and the music of Bauhaus, as Brite's cast prowls for spiritual and physical satiation in the American South. Centered around several road trips to New Orleans, the conflict that eventually emerges is between an (unsigned) alt-rock duo and a van full of Dionysian vampires who may as well be on furlough from a William S. Burroughs cut-up. Neither sides are particularly heroic, the closest thing to an innocent being an asexual space cadet clairvoyant named Ghost. Over-written passages abound and the romanticization of alcoholism is out of control, but much of Brite's descriptions melt well on the tongue. What I liked best is that Lost Souls serves as a time capsule of the early nineties, a quaint time when music still felt like it had the power to be subversive, and when nipple piercings, tattoos, ankhs and boys with black lipstick still seemed edgy.
-
http://cuevadelescritor.blogspot.mx/2...
La música de los vampiros es un libro crudo, crudísimo, no apto para personas sensibles. De hecho, puede que ni siquiera hayan nombrar a su autora; debido a sus temas recurrentes es bastante desconocida y queda relegada a cierto grupo de personas interesadas.
Lo he dicho, y lo repito: este libro no es apto para personas sensibles, no muchos la pueden disfrutar (y hablamos sólo de disfrutar, ya no de entender). Su obra está llena de muertes, de violaciones de destrucción. De mucha muerte.
Sus personajes son personajes marginales, solitarios. Desde vampiros hasta músicos.
El libro poco tiene que ver con los vampiros convencionales, como Carmilla, o Drácula. Poppy Z. Brite nos presenta a los vampiros como una raza diferente, separada de los humanos que puede, a veces, mezclarse y crear híbridos, como Nada. No podemos esperar encontrar vampiros sentimentalistas, como los creados por Anne Rice. No, los vampiros creados por Poppy Z. Brite son vampiros crueles, sexys y salvajes. Caminan del día y disfrutan del rock y del alcohol, de la buena vida.
Entre los personajes principales protagonizan una serie de encuentros y desencuentros que en su mayoría van marcados por la sangre. La mayoría de las circunstancias son oscuras y trágicas…
No es un libro que cualquier paladar disfrute, por supuesto. Hay sangre, y hay sexo, y hay vampiros sexys, y escenas muy crudas. Aun así, un cierto tono sentimental siempre está presente, todos los personajes tienen personalidad, tienen razón de ser; sus actos siempre están plenamente justificados, aunque no siempre sean los esperados.
No esperen encontrar clichés. No los hay. La música de los Vampiros, de Poppy Z. Brite, es, ante todo, una novela oscura, y gótica y no dudo que quienes disfruten de ese género, disfrutarán de esta historia. -
Reread, 2020: The visceral, over the top, viscous blood and cloying twinkies aesthetic is one of the most memorable part of this, but it still surprised me. It's Brite's multi-sense descriptions which get me--I find the sticky textures and rotting smells much more effective than visuals alone. It's nearly nauseating; it's also a selling point.
This is a relic of its time and of myself when I first read it; I can no longer disentangle the plot from the way it lodged itself into my id, or my reactions from my fond/cringe memories of my younger self. I still argue that the second half runs long. But every element which is flagrantly "problematic"--which relationships are homoerotic subtext, which are lascivious taboo; the role and fate of women--is the product of a cultural and personal queer awakening. It's telling, messy, memorable. The actual reread honestly didn't hold up to my nostalgia, but reflecting on the book, then & now, does.
Original review, 2008: Fifteen-year-old Nothing runs away from his adoptive home and falls in with three vampires, one of whom is his unwitting father. In a haze of drugs, sex, and blood drinking, Nothing is drawn closer to New Orleans and the climactic events that will reveal his past and determine his future. Lost Souls is indulgent and gratuitous to the extreme, which will either delight or disgust the reader. Personally, I loved it--and though I preferred the concept to the actual plot, I found Lost Souls visceral, darkly intriguing, and difficult to put down. It's a bit over the top and perhaps not a piece of "great" literature, but I heartily recommend it.
To be quite honest, Lost Souls feels like a combination of the self-indulgent, gratuitous content of fan fiction and the skill and editing of a published book. It is an playground of sin: lush sexuality and frequent homosexual relationships, incest, teenage sexuality, unapologetic amorality, angst, plentiful violence and blood drinking, drug use, goth kids, punk kids, rock bands, vampires, and New Orleans, all of it so gratuitous that it nearly become an art form. It's over the top and hardly subtle, yet Brite writes well. Her prose is sometimes florid, but it is evocative, visceral, and as lush as the content. She creates a cast of vivid, intriguing characters and weaves their disparate lives into a single story. Sadly, the plot veers away at the end of the book, doing a disservice to one character and straying too far from Nothing and his family--but the story is often intriguing and always competent, and it will keep the reader interested and engaged until the end.
Brite is not the most subtle or most gifted author, but she writes rich prose and a strong story. As a result, her book revels in gratuitous content rather than being dragged down by it. That may not appeal to everyone, and perhaps it prevents the book from being truly "great," but the reader who enjoys it will find Lost Souls a gleefully indulgent bit of wish fulfillment. Personally, I loved the combination of content and style, and I thoroughly enjoyed the book. I fell in love with the characters (especially Zillah), enjoyed the glut of blood and sex and angst, and found the prose so visceral that it triggered physical reactions. I did enjoy the premise more than the actual plot, and so I preferred the first half of the book. Nonetheless: Lost Souls is a wholly immoderate, indulgent vampire story, and my inner hedonist adored it. I recommend it to anyone attracted to the premise--pick it up and read the first couple of pages, and it will soon be apparent if this is the sort of book you'll love or hate. -
No...just no. I keep on editing this review, to try and explain, how vile and sad this type of imagination is for anyone to have, let alone publish. This was so painful to get through, the only reason I gave this 1 star, is because I applaud it for the fact that it made me feel severely uncomfortable. This must be amazing for a severely depressed goth/emo suicidal teenager dreaming of being someones blood donor, convinced no one has a shittier life than theirs , screaming for attention, dwelling in self pity. I'm a sucker for weirdness, but this was weird in all the emotionally unstable, dirty, wrong ways. I'll go rinse my brain with children's songs now.
Some things, should indicate therapy. This is one of those things. I'd think the author has some sort of mental instability that borders on a severely deranged. It is certainly a form of disordered thinking. I just wish she would have written a book about how to get help for it, instead of encouraging other f#cked up teenagers to think the same.
And by reading the reviews, said teenagers never grew up either * Facepalm* -
Poppy Z. Brite is a master at writing unlikable, unsympathetic characters that are just fun (well, fun to me . . . your mileage may vary!) to read about.
Lost Souls, Brite’s early nineties debut novel, is a vampire tale set in New Orleans. Anne Rice territory this isn’t, though; Rice aims for the romantic and luxurious, whereas Brite’s characters are dirty and sweary and don’t give a damn for morality.
I really can’t put my finger on why this book effected me so, though I’m not surprised. I read Brite’s later novel Exquisite Corpse a few years back and knew from the jump it was something special. Brite’s writing features a strong edge, a daring sense of nihilism and the grotesque not seen in horror since.
Lost Souls is a grungy, sweaty outing filled with gore, sex, rock music, angsty teens doing drugs, and more sex. All the sex! Brite, a master of the prose, brings it all together with style and class. This is a story that matters.
