Cradle of Filth: The Curse of Venus Aversa

by Dani Filth, Kurt Amacker, Monty Borror (Illustrator)

British extreme metallers Cradle of Filth have finally crossed the murky and treacherous depths between music and comics--a feat oft attempted, but rarely achieved with the power, elegance, and literary fire of The Curse of Venus Aversa. Based on a story by Dani Filth and New Orleans comic book author Kurt Amacker (Dead Souls, The 69 Helsinki Vampires), the tale drags readers back to the cold, dark days of Victorian England. After the murder of his lover Gabrielle, the salacious poet Lord Daniel Impudicus faces down authorities, hoards of vampires, an ancient goddess, and his own demons. This 80-page graphic novel features stunning black and white art by Monty Borror,covers by Jamie Huntley and Tim Lattie

80 pages, Paperback

First published May 1, 2014

Reviews

[Matt Spencer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I might as well say up front that I’m not really a CoF afficionado (though I have a few good friends who are). I came to this book more out of enthusiasm for Kurt Amaker as a writer. In terms of rock-star-cross-pollinates-their-persona-into-the-comics-medium, my only prior frame of reference/comparison was Alice Cooper and Neil Gaiman’s The Last Temptation. While I have fond memories of that curiosity (and am far better versed in Mr Cooper than Mr Filth), Amaker’s collaboration with Dani Filth strikes me as easily the more clever, literary, and ambitious undertaking/execution of the conceit. The tale, at heart, is a relatively straightforward love letter to classical Victorian Gothic Horror, with the kick of a shot of 100 proof modern splatterpunk sensibilities, with a streak of David Lynch. The way Filth’s lyrics and persona become incorporated into the narrative could easily have descended into cornball kitsch, but the sure-handed scripting makes it not only work, but work well, regardless of one’s familiarity with the artist/band being cross-promoted. The book has a good deal on its mind, so far as the nature of the obsessive, consummate artist’s inner journey, in relation to history, the socio-political pressures and expectations of one’s times, personal tragedy, and finally, perseverance. Without giving too much away, there’s a certain venerable stripe of cautionary fable that I’m personally rather sick of…which this story not only sidesteps/subverts, but feels like it actively throws up a middle finger in the face of. Refreshing indeed. Montgomery Borror’s artwork, while on the whole lovely and evocative, brings me to my one nagging bit of criticism…Though nearly any given isolated image is effective on its own (in many cases, outright incredible), I found their holding together as sequential storytelling hit and miss; scene transitions (particularly time jumps/location and POV shifts) were often jarring, and the sense of flow/kinesis between panels was a tad touch and go from scene to scene. Overall, though, still a page-turner from creators who clearly love the rich storytelling traditions they’re swimming in, and to any fellow enthusiast of such things, the thrill is infectious.