After receiving a large insurance settlement, young couple Gwen and George fulfil a dream by buying their own little island, a secluded, private paradise surrounded by a lush green landscape of plants.
What the real estate man didn't tell them was that a tragedy took place years earlier in the cool, clear pool near the house. And the waters still hold a terrifying, centuries-old secret.
Soon George begins to notice strange changes in his wife. Always so reserved and demure, suddenly Gwen has become passionate and insatiable. And then there are the people who have mysteriously started to disappear ...
This first-ever reissue of Hugh Zachary's eco-horror novel Gwen, in Green (1974) features the original cover painting by George Ziel and a new introduction by Will Errickson.
Hugh Derrel Zachary is an American novelist who has written science fiction novels under the pseudonyms Zach Hughes and Evan Innes. His other pseudonyms include Peter Kanto and Pablo Kane. He received his education from the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, served in the U.S. Army, and worked in broadcast journalism in Florida.
Zachary describes himself as "the most published, underpaid and most unknown writer in the U.S."
Avoid the pond water and don’t cut the grass! This eco-gothic horror novel delivers more plant-based thrills than an Earth Day celebration. You’ll think twice about weedy vegetation overwhelming that ramshackle house outside of town, and may even second guess having outdoor trysts with woodland nymphomaniacs.
It’s rare for a pulp novel to live up to its brilliant cover, but this one does. Actually, the story surpasses any of the wild assumptions you might have going in. It gets crazier and crazier with every page, and I’m all about it!
First published in the early 1970s, swinger vibes linger in the air as Gwen’s horny husband is at first disappointed by his new wife’s demure sexuality and uneventful days. He encourages her to “get a hobby,” like painting or “a lover.”
Gwen decides to become close with her pet Venus flytraps. Maybe a little TOO close. Suddenly there’s a noticeable change. It’s the wife who “wears out” her insatiable husband and takes on all manner of extracurricular activities. George doesn’t complain—at first. When Gwen starts having full-on conversations with her plants, however, he suspects something spooky is going on. But he doesn’t know the half of it!
Valancourt Books has been killing it with the “Paperbacks from Hell” re-prints of forgotten, hard-to-find vintage horror novels, but this re-discovery might be my favorite. It’s more Gothic than horror, which I prefer, but includes great stabby moments to satisfy gore fans. Basically the perfect blend of gruesome shocks and domestic doom.
I understand there’s a whole subgenre of “eco-gothic” and “eco-horror” that I would love to read more of. If anybody has recommendations for more novels like this, please send my way!
Gwen, In Green is an obscure little horror fantasia; as with all fantasias, it is a mixture of different styles and is based on a number of familiar tunes. It riffs on eco-horror and the destruction wrought by men with machines, the unfreezing of a frigid woman (which is so 70s), sexuality as horror and as freedom, and finally, terror from space. It handles all of those familiar songs with care. It is also quite the seductive little number: it leads the reader on with a low-key but rather formal style and a story that is focused on the psychological; there are only vague whiffs of dread - and a series of unsettling dreams - to point to the strangeness slowly seeping in from the edges. And then it switches it up, almost abruptly, and turns into a narrative about a semi-possessed woman whose extreme coping mechanisms alternate between the wanton and the murderous. I loved this bewitching obscurity from beginning to end.
As mentioned, the book is so very 1970s and that may make it really irritating to read, for some. There's a certain chauvinism that is continually present - although it never actually veers into misogyny. Gwen may have mental problems and sexual hang-ups; her horndog fratboy of a husband may view her as his lil' lady who handles the cooking & the cleaning & the relaxing of her man; the first half of the novel may be concerned with her issues with sex and his attempts to unfreeze those frosty lady parts... but all of that appears to come from a place of empathy. Zachary is an empathetic writer: Gwen is richly nuanced and her idiosyncrasies are celebrated; George is surprisingly kind, patient, and supportive; their evolving relationship is always tender and respectful. I really enjoyed reading about them and the home they create together, from the ground up.
From the ground up, from within the woods, from the depths of the pond... unfortunately for Gwen and George, the novel is not just about their relationship. It is also about an intangible horror from the ground, the woods, the pond, the stars, and how that horror seduces and then destroys.
Synopsis: A young couple build a beautiful home on a forested island. They proceed to have lots and lots and lots of sex. Horror eventually intrudes upon their happy, sexy idyll.
Do women feel pain when nature is destroyed by structural measures? In this novel you'll learn about Gwen Ferries who reacts in her own way to that pain. What about the plants around her home? Are they earthbound or where do they come from? This is also a tale of her sexual awakening turning Gwen from a prude into an easy-going woman screwing with every male in sight. Why does screwing kill the pain (intended pun, no spoiler)? What about her husband George and the shrink he's seeing? How will the story end? This is an interesting combination of horror, science fiction and obsession. Okay, the role models changed a lot since the author wrote this story in 1974 and you'll clearly feel the dated character of the book. Nice lore spun around Freud's Eros/Thanatos motif. Recommended!
What happens when nature employs a young woman as a vessel to get retribution from the local population for clearing its overgrowth?
Well, we get a lovecraftian tale full of blood, dark themes, atmospheric imagery, and a whole lot of sex.
That’s right, not to get too far out in the weeds (pun intended), but nobody in town is safe from Gwen extracting a pound of flesh—in more ways than one. 😅
Okay, okay. You’re probably thinking, what in the world is this book about? Basically, Gwen and George buy a few acres in an overgrown/unpopulated area so they can build a home next to a pond where people have been found dead years before. Dream home territory for sure! 😅 But wait, it gets better! A nuclear power plant is being built nearby, and trace amounts of radioactivity are going to “possibly” (probably) pollute the water system. This is not enough to deter our lovebirds from staking their claim to the area.
You can see where this is going, but here is a bit more context for you. George starts to mow and fell trees around the property, while Gwen takes up painting to tame her creative side. One thing leads to the next, and heads start to roll.
Silliness aside, I actually enjoyed the greater message surrounding the extraordinary events. Like most good horror, the author grafts themes to the plot such as trauma, grief, inadequacies, subversion to nature, and promiscuity in an engaging fashion.
The overabundance of sexiness was weird, but overall, I sort of enjoyed it. Would I recommend it? Hmm. Maybe. Like I said, there is an interesting message buried in here, you might just have to stave off some of the darker elements to get to it.
🎵| Soundtrack |🎵 ❖ Kelis - Milkshake ❖ Atreyu – The Crimson ❖ Anna Of The North - Us
Gwen, in Green (Fawcett Gold Medal July 1974) is one of those sexploitation horror novels that ran in second tier movie houses in the mid-1970’s. Think Little Shop of Horrors meets Sex and the Married Woman meets anti-nuclear and climate change activists.
The setting is a barrier island near Cape Fear where a nuclear plant is going up and a giant Collins canal is being dug. Gwen and George have been married for seven years, but she’s the ice queen of frigidity and George is frustrated. Gwen is connected though to Mother Nature and feels strongly when the plants are cut and destroyed, particularly the alien plants in the pond behind the house. The only thing that stops the pain is good old-fashioned sex starting with the meter man and extending to teenaged dudes spying on her sunbathing. Not even psychiatric treatment seems to help Gwen whose mission is to help the plants on the island and if luring the bulldozer operators to her backyard with her charms before taking an axe to them is what it takes, so be it.
It’s not horror in the infinitely scary sense so much as it’s creepy and uncomfortable to see this play out and the reference to aliens are odd too.
I'm so glad that more classic 70's horror is being reprinted under the 'Paperbacks from Hell' series. They're such fascinating time capsules to the past, with this title being one of the best yet.
In away the plot is rather a simple one as George notices strange changes to his wife Gwen after the couple buy a secluded private paradise. It's the construction of their dream house and the inevitable landscaping that stranger things start to happen to Gwen.
The language is very much of its time as the normal prude Gwen seems to have a sexual awakening as such. Much of the sex scenes in the novel are akin to some soft porn of the time, it's a strange compelling read. This eco-horror certainly raises the points of women being more in touch with mother nature.
One for the Eco-Warriors amongst you I think. A young couple buy a house with lots of land. Nearby, a development is going on, machines clearing the vegetation and waterways being disturbed and polluted. But fortunately nature has a means of fighting back, in the form of the young lady that's just taken up residence. Her name's Gwen and before too long she's maiming and killing like a good'un, and all in the name of the environment. What a gal!
There's more to it than that actually but I won't spoil it for you. Suffice to say, this'll have you looking at your vegetarian meal in an entirely different light, not to mention entertaining you with Gwen's sexual antics, which are many and varied and cover all ages.
This was different and it may even make you stop for a moment and take stock of your life, making you wonder if all is as it seems. It's not too in-your-face in that sense, but it is there if you look closely enough. I really enjoy novels like this that are not only fantastically original, and wonderfully entertaining, but also point just a little towards something more... and of course there's always the sex to fall back on if nothing else.
It was the plants that made me do it! I swear, it was the plants!!!
Gwen and Gordon are a madly in love couple, living in a secluded homestead complete with a personal pond filled with clear water for swimming, plentiful plant life surrounding their compound, and woodland to get lost in. Its peace is something Gwen cherishes, until her world is turned upside down by greedy developers hellbent on destroying everything she's come to love.
The change in Gwen's mood is apparent on a number of levels but the most surprising for Gordon is Gwen's attitude towards sex. She's insatiable, almost like she's been possessed by another woman, not that he's complaining, and aside from a few strange outbursts here and there (Gwen randomly talking nonsense for instance), he largely remains in a state of ignorance until the axe Gwen bears falls squarely on his shoulders...
From prude to sexpot, the change in Gwen is a culmination of a strange allure to the flora surrounding her secluded home and the need to 'feel alive' as parts of the land are cleared by developers. Dead wood must be replaced by wood of another kind! In me! (paraphrased of course).
The sexual tones of the novel are pitched perfect at adolescent teens and honey old men looking for a summer score - from nothing sexual to nympho; Gwen's wanton ways are a lure for many a horny male, which often ends in death.
However, Gwen, In Green, is more than a book about voyeurism and weird married nymphomaniacs; there's a bigger picture at play - cosmic even! Yep, Gwen's ties with the soil, flora and fauna for that matter, go deeper than a strange kinship with plants, such as the Venus Flytrap being touted as an extraterrestrial, the seeds of which having traveled light years to Earth from, you guessed it, Venus! But only if the other characters in the book would understand...sadly they don't.
Gwen, In Green, is a lot of fun. It reads as a B-grade horror novel with some comedic overtones (not sure if by design but nevertheless it works) and colorful characters (primarily Gwen) who are a joy to read. I strongly recommended adding this Paperbacks From Hell re-issue to the collection.
GWEN, IN GREEN ist "Öko-Horror" und doch wohl hoffentlich ein Schelm, wer glaubt, dass sich hinter diesem eher anspruchsvollen klingenden Etikett etwas anderes verbirgt. Zachary erzählt von Gwen, deren Mutter ein äußerst loses Sexualverhalten an den Tag legte. Daraus resultiert ganz küchenpsychologisch Gwens Frigidität. Zum Glück lernt sie ihren späteren Ehemann kennen, der nicht nur verständnisvoll ist, sondern Gwen die Freude am Sex beibringt (jedenfalls so leidlich). Und ganz bestimmt dient es nur dem vorantreiben des Öko-Horrors, wenn immer wieder beschrieben wird, wie dieser Heilungsprozess voranschreitet und die beiden irgendwann sogar zum Sex nicht mehr das Licht ausschalten. Die Beischlaf-Szenen sind häufig, aber zugleich etwas verschämt. So kann auch der 15-jährige Leser sie mit Erregung lesen, ohne so ganz verdorben zu werden. Gwens Ehemann kauft dann ein riesiges Stück Land, auf dem er sein Traumhaus errichtet und allerhand Frevel an der Landschaft begeht. Bezahlbar ist das (außer durch eine Erbschaft) deswegen, weil der Fluss, der das Grundstück begrenzt, als Kühlwasser für ein Atomkraftwerk dient. Aber daran stört sich Gwen nicht, ist die radioaktive Strahlung doch nicht gar so hoch und tödlich, und selbst wenn, was tut man nicht, um seinen Ehemann glücklich zu sehen. Dann kriselt es, weil ausgerechnet die prüde Gwen den Stromableser verführt und mal richtig guten Sex hat. Irgendwas kommt da in Gang ...
(Sehr) Platte Protagonisten, die mehr als fragwürdige Entscheidungen treffen, immer wieder Sex, Sex, Sex und der sich sehr langsam entwickelnder Öko-Horror - Überraschung: das bissige Opossum am Anfang ist natürlich erst der Auftakt, die Natur wehrt sich gegen ihre Zerstörung durch den Menschen: Empfehlen kann ich diesen Roman leider kaum, denn mein Lesevergnügen hat sich ausgesprochen in Grenzen gehalten.
An enjoyable read with such an interesting premise and some very weird, gruesome horror. However it did ramble a bit and the sex scenes (so many of them) were kinda cringe.
Finally finished the audiobook of this Paperback From Hell.
I just love these crazy old-school horror paperbacks. The world was a different place then, and these stories show it. We've changed mostly for the better, but it's interesting to venture back in time and look at the way things were.
Gwen, In Green is about a woman that feels the plants' pain. She eases that suffering with sex, and eventually turns to more wicked ways.
It was a quick story and Joe Hempel's narration for the Audio Edition was perfect.
After listening to THE NEST and THE SPIRIT, I'll add GWEN, IN GREEN to the list of retro horror-radness!
GWEN, IN GREEN by Hugh Zachary is the latest release in the Paperbacks From Hell collaboration, and I think this is one of the more whackadoo books in the series, and that’s saying something as there are a lot of weird books released in this series. There’s some pseudoscience about plants being telepathic, a touch of horror, and lots and lots of sex and outdated sexual ideas about women, which is specifically covered in the introduction by Will Errickson, who tries to explain away the way Gwen is treated as a timid sexually frigid woman as a sign of the times the book was written, while never touching on the fact that Gwen basically statutorily rapes all the 13 year old boys in town. I guess that’s ok because they’re boys? I’m pretty sure if the genders were flipped in that particular scenario, this book would have never seen the light of day in this series. Plus, maybe aliens? I don’t know. The Paperbacks From Hell have generally been a hit for me, but aside from the all-over-the-place writing and storytelling, I think all of the over-the-top sexual identity issues in this book really did not work for me, despite the introduction trying to warn me about this very thing. Perhaps this is one particular volume that should have stayed obscure.
Decent overall read. A little older book (74 I think) and set in that time. Things were different then for sure lol. Decent flow, but lots of things sort of passed over (deaths and the wife's dalliances). More of the day-to-day part though, which made it a slower read at times.
Spoilers below
So, a couple buy an island/peninsula and build a house. Turns out there is an alien life in their little pond (you do not find this out until the end). The wife, who was very prudent (due to her mother's lack) turns into a nympho instead of feeling the pain (she is connected to the plant life) of the men cutting up the forest. She kills some of the workers, and when she cannot she sleeps around with anyone who comes by. Turns out the previous people to try to live in the area had the same issue, which ended in the wife killing and burning the house down. The book ends the exact same way. Sort of lacking a punch at the end, but a decent story overall.
There's something in the pond and it's making the sexually repressed good girl Gwen go all horny and homicidal. Having built their dream home in a remote corner of an island, Gwen and her husband George live a happy and carefree life until workmen for a new nuclear plant and their bulldozers start tearing down trees in the area. Somehow reacting to the pain of the dying trees and plants, Gwen becomes possessed. Soon she's a siren of the woods, enticing workmen to their gruesome deaths and local teenage boys to her loins.
It begins suddenly with a romp with the meter reader, a scene straight out of classic porn. Poor Gwen is initially shocked by her completely out of character actions, having been sexually traumatised by her mother's promiscuity at an early age. Even her husband had to work hard like only a 1970s male could to get her to respond to sexual stimulus, but here she was, happily going at it full tilt with a random stranger. She spirals down to the brink of suicide, which prompts George to send her to see a local octogenarian shrink, Dr. King, a discount Freud who begins to investigate what's going on.
It's the plants, of course, screaming out in pain, and the sex is just to suppress their suffering. The other option is to stop the bulldozers and she does, several times, by killing their operators. Somehow Gwen has become a receiver for the vegetable kingdom's feelings. Her own will and conscience are slowly eroded, until the woods are filled with corpses and pretty much every local boy has lost their virginity. When Dr. King finally remembers that there was a similar case years and years before, it's already too late.
There's a lot of sex here, but not a whole lot of sleaze. It's perhaps slightly exploitative, but hey, it was the 70s! The writing in general is excellent, with just the right balance of ponderous drama and self-deprecating humour, and a keen attention to detail. Most of the story is set in the house and its surrounding woods, giving the novel a nice contained atmosphere which it uses to good effect. Gwen is the serious focus of the novel, with the male characters often clueless, especially the know-it-all George, who hilariously only becomes aware that something is seriously wrong the moment he gets an axe to the shin. Although by the end Gwen has become a shotgun-toting, axe-wielding sex maniac, it's not because she wants to, it's because she's made to act by something greater and whatever resistance she had is long gone. But at the same time, it's also perhaps a sort of an emancipation from male dominance, a liberation of the female? In the end it's not the trees, not the Venus fly-traps she feeds hamburger meat to, not even the radioactivity from the nuclear plant, rather it's a twist out of time and space and Lovecraft.
The ending, with the real estate agent desperately trying to sell the now vacant property to yet another hapless buyer, is a lovely little coda to good old greed, an actual force of evil, perhaps greater than any telepathic killer plants from outer space who really just want to be left alone in their shallow pond.
There's certainly a germ of an interesting idea in this Paperback From Hell, but the execution (or cultivation, might I say?) of it leaves something to be desired. Even at a lean 180 pages, this book is largely uneventful throughout, relishing more in strangely sexual and erotic overtones than in the horror itself; of the latter there being very little of, minus a small kill count nearing the end.
This story is apparently a commentary on wildlife and habitat destruction, and is part of what inspired the author to write this - and is a worthwhile message, I'll admit - but if you don't have an entertaining story for such themes to be woven into than what's the point? Especially for pulp, genre fiction such as this.
On the whole this is one of the weaker vintage horror novels I've read, but it's not a total waste, and could be worth a read for the concept alone or to add to your collection for that gorgeous cover art by George Ziel.
Men writing horror: The house was old and dark. Her breasts were young and perky. A cat walked in. Her thighs were pulsing with anticipation. A ghost or something idk. Her feminine dampness made her tingle.
I don't know what this story is and don't care anymore. Just picture every 70s trope you can and slap them in a house in the woods. Save yourself the time of reading this.
If there was ever a case for the "Kill Your Lawn!" crowd, GWEN, IN GREEN might be it!
I loved this wild romp into retro horror that the Valancourt Books "Paperbacks From Hell" series so deftly delivers time and again. GWEN, IN GREEN originally published in 1974 has now been released in 2021 with a new introduction by Will Errickson and it might be one of my favorites in the entire series. It's a strange and unpredictable story of surprises that makes for perfect outdoor reading on a languid summer day that can't help but make you aware of your own body.
Gwen and George Ferrier are a married couple who have recently come into some money from the death of George's parents. With the funds elevating them into a new tax bracket, they buy a large and secluded parcel of land on which to build their house. The house and land seem opulent to the couple who are used to cramped city dwelling. They have a balcony that morphs into a deck over a silver pond that George takes great pride in swimming in every day. Gwen, more reserved in nature than her husband, finds joy in tending the plants new to their property and especially looking after the venus flytraps she finds on the edge of the pond. But the usually demure Gwen is acting a little strange. Suddenly she's matching or even outpacing George's voracious sexual appetite. She's talking to her plants and caring for them like children. And she's suffering from gruesome nightmares that only seem to leave her thoughts when she's tending to those previously mentioned activities.
That is, until people start to go missing...
GWEN, IN GREEN is a story that grafts elements of both horror and Gothic beautifully and gives us a pulpy look at the growing environmental concerns of the mid-1970s set against the backdrop of the post-Summer of Love malaise and the ongoing Women's Liberation Movement. It's a prime example of Seventies sleaze and norms that to read it today can be a bit jarring, but it is so of its time, we are willing to overlook the more outdated and conventional aspects of the writing and let Zachary lead us along the vine of his creation.
Also, can we just take a beat and appreciate the use of the original cover painting by George Ziel.
As a horror novel, this is an excellent read. There's a real sense of menace and troubled identity here that keeps you reading, even if Zachary flubs the explanation of the threat at the end of the book. He still sticks the landing, but the reason why things are happening is too hokey.
It's important to note, though, that this was written in the early 1970s, when Playboy was at its height, encouraging manly men and submissive women, and where the word "frigid" was still tossed around as a psychological condition. The tone of the novel is such that it feels like Zachary wrote from this angle as a means of setting atmosphere and showing the darker side of some characters, and that this wasn't his own opinion. I say that because there's still a weird kind of feminist angle to the story, though I wouldn't hold this up as an example of feminist fiction.
I'd recommend the book to fans of horror, but it's important to know all that before going in. If you expect it to be a novel that holds up against modern sensibilities, you're going to be disappointed.
If you are vegan or even vegetarian, sooner or later you might have some smart aleck ask, “What if plants feel pain, too? What if the veggies scream when they are harvested? Don’t you care about that?”
From now on, when I encounter these trolls, I will happily refer them to this book, whose premise is exactly that. And no worries that I am doing them any favors, as this book is pretty terrible. It’s not the dumbest thing I have ever read, but it would definitely make the short list. But I’m giving it two stars because it’s the kind of dumb that, with the addition of some MST 3000 style snark, is actually enjoyable.
The plot, such as it is, involves a young couple in the early 1970s moving to a rural property, right next to a huge construction project for a nuclear power plant. All day long, backhoes and bulldozers are crunching up the coastal scrub forest and marsh. They figure the noise won’t last forever, and the land is cheap, so the only worry is that the husband, George, is over-sexed and the wife, Gwen, is—in the words of the day—“frigid.”
But it turns out the plants are suffering, every felled tree accompanied by silent screams. And Gwen can feel their pain. And the best way to drown out those psychic screams…is to have as much sex as possible. With anyone passing by. And tell the local boys not to be shy, Gwen doesn’t care if they’re legal.
Okay then.
In the forward, it’s mentioned how this book—pulpy pop fiction for the masses—was a product of its time, that time being the swinging early 1970s, where casual sexism and racism were combined with a rather porny take on sexual liberation. Fair enough, I suppose. But I have read quite a few books from that era that were actually good, so I don’t think that’s a pass for this one.
But if you like horror and are looking for something in the “so bad it’s kinda good” category, this might be a good match.
So Gwen in Green is special to me because it was my first actual “paperback from hell.” Like before I even knew what they were. I just started digging for old horror to read, before I found the Hendrix book. I stumbled upon this one in the wild at a Goodwill center where they just dumped big piles of everything in troughs. It was quite the experience (I learned to bring gloves after that day.) but I found this weird green book and the back sounded weird so I’m like hey it’s a buck, why not? So it was about time (a year or so? Should be sanitized by now. 👀) to crack it open & WHAT AN AMAZING READ!
Gwen in Green, or as I’d like to call it “If the Lorax was a nympho.” From the very start, there was a quiet intensity to this book that dug its roots into me. Gwen is a mousey, subdued housewife who loved her husband but he was a sex fiend (oh men!). This was the 70’s, so it was easier to call her “frigid” instead of “traumatized.” But they had a happy marriage & they actually made for a charming couple, their banter wasn’t nauseating-which is rare. So they get a deal on this woodland estate, and start fixing it up while on the other side of the property, some big business is clearing the land. From the start, something in the forest is calling to Gwen, something in the pond is taking over. She’s becoming one with nature in more ways than one, feeling what it feels, including its pain when it’s being deforested. The only way to mask the pain? Become a sexpot. Tire out your husband. Seduce the local teenage boys, tell them if they have friends send them over too. Go out into the forest, entice the loggers, & then blow off chunks of their skull with a shotgun. If you want things done right you can’t be a tree-hugger, you have to be a tree-fu…you know what, I prayed on that one & nvm.
So this turned into a highly-entertaining, pulpy, eco-horror story that gave me all the face journeys. I finished it last night because I had to know what happened. We stan Team Gwen, our hippie Poison Ivy with a shotty. Her and her venus flytraps could do no wrong. I support women’s rights and I support women’s wrongs too. They could never make a movie of this because she… *checks* “She ran, bare breasts bobbled” for like the last half of the book, but damn it would be good watch. (Yeah the author really wrote that btw.) Sleazy, toxic, entrancing. Turns out my first find was a real winner, highly recommend!
A compelling, engrossing, and thoughtful eco-horror-drama with a little sprinkling of some soft-core smuttery to spice the relatively brief proceedings up a bit.
Another solid entry in the Paperbacks From Hell reprints, and one that walks a fine line between a variety of genres. A young couple moves to a small island in Cape Fear, NC, and begins construction on what they hope to be their dream home. But there's some dark, sordid history on that little island, and it doesn't take long for shit to get pretty weird, frequently murderous, and more than a little saucy out there in the greenery.
This is an eco-horror novel first and foremost, and I thought Hugh Zachary's ideas about plant life and fly-traps were compelling and added a nice science-fiction twist to the horror. But on top of the eco-horror stuff and the killer/possessed by plants angle, there's also some lite slasher vibes here as Gwen hunts down and kills a variety of construction crew workers, and ultimately others. Plus, as I said, there's a lotta soft-core porno vibes scattered throughout since a side effect of murderous, possessing, alien plants is that they free you of any inhibitions regarding sex and who you fornicate with.
There is a ton of sex and violence in this book's very brief 180ish pages, but I will say it isn't particularly graphic, neither sexually nor in the murders. Much of this happens "off-page" or is handled very artfully and tastefully. Despite maybe 15 sex scenes, none of them get more than a sentence. And of the 9 kills, plus an assortment of flashback deaths, I'd only really say two or three of them were particularly gruesome (despite a few being very creative, and a couple being very brutal without being remotely bloody, if that makes sense).
Zachary's writing was excellent; it hooked me quickly, and I tore this book up. I thought the premise was great, the unfolding insanity was engaging, and the sex/violence balance was effective. The horror aspects, the science fiction aspects, even the soft-core stuff all worked really well for me. And I appreciated the anticipated ending and setup. I wish Zachary had leaned more into the story's graphic nature and gone all-in on the savagery unfolding on that island. But that's just me, and I know I'm more of a splattery fan than an artistic one. Which says a lot for how good I thought this book was and how well Zachary writes, if I couldn't put it down despite my realizing very quickly that it was going to be mostly a tease.
I'd love to see a film adaptation of this.
Another great Paperbacks From Hell entry and another author I look forward to finding more stuff from. On to the next title to hunt down!
My second paperbacks from hell book, and I’m glad I’ve read it.
‘Truly it was The Planet of Death’
The first 60% was quite slow, and I almost gave up. The last 40% was fun, but I’m not sure if I wanted to finish it because I liked it, because I was interested in Gwen’s outcome or just because I didn’t want to feel regret for not finishing it.
Reasons it should be a 1 star: it was so obviously written by a man in the ‘70’s. Some troublesome writing on race, gender roles & women.
Reasons it’s a three star: the story was interesting, it kept me hanging on to finish. It was fun getting to read about how the misogynistic men were killed by Gwen. (Most of) the spicy scenes actually felt important to the story.
Reasons it could’ve been a 5 star: the cover. The reminders of my fav musical of all time - lil shop of horrors.
‘ “Wouldn’t it be great” he said later, “if they grew to tremendous size? Make a great science fiction movie. Huge, man-eating plants. A scantily clad beauty being engulfed in the closing red maw…’
The fact that this book has such an AMAZING cover and a really cool title with a very promising premise only leads to the disappointment of having to read the actual book that doesn’t match up with how cool those things are. I don’t wanna take reading too seriously anymore, so when I feel like it’s time to DNF a book I’m just gonna DNF. It really doesn’t feel worth it after THAT scene 💀 oh well. Really sucks that this was my introduction to the paperbacks from hell reissues. Hopefully when I pick up another one it’ll be better and not as problematic lol.
I went into it thinking it would be pretty bad but pulpy - I was right ! I guess I just expected this novel to have more of an edge to it, for the idea is so good, but it does really show that it has been written by a man, and not a very good writer at that. Hard to push past the 70’s sexism, misogyny, and the wild views on sex and race that permeates it all.