Around the Web: Feral House’s Finest, a Poetic Lady Spy, and Cradle of Filth Madness

Adam Parfrey

In “bucket list” news, I spoke to two of my favorite intellects of the American underground in February. Feral House founder Adam Parfrey chatted with me about his history in publishing, his instincts about what makes a compelling book, and how the current social climate might be creating the most frightening atmosphere yet for advocates of free speech. Read the interview on Heathen Harvest here.

voluptuous panic

One of the most important books in the development of my personal aesthetic is Mel Gordon’s Voluptuous Panic, an exploration of sex culture in Weimar Berlin. It’s a book I love so much that I’ve gifted copies to friends and have even had to replace my own much-loved, dog-eared copy. Imagine my delight when Mel agreed to sit down over drinks with me and talk about his incredibly colorful life and scholarship over the course of four dishy hours. Read the interview on Heathen Harvest here.


March’s Great Moment in Historical Sluttery concerns the career of Aphra Behn, Restoration Era author and spy.  When widowhood left her facing debtor’s prison, Aphra was able to find employment as a playwright for the two leading theaters in England, becoming one of the first women to financially support herself through her writing. Read about Aphra Behn on Slutist.


So there’s a Cradle of Filth comic book in which Oscar Wilde gets into a street fight. This should be enough to interest you in reading my latest piece on heavy metal comics for Nine Circles. Read March’s entry in my Stygian Imagery column here.

Around the Web: Mystical Art, Sappho in Weimar and Hollywood, and Black Metal


One of the beautiful things about working with Heathen Harvest is the fact that incredibly talented artists agree to speak to me about their work. I had the opportunity to chat with photographer Krist Mort about her stunning analog photography. Read the interview here: Craft and Meditation: The Photography of Krist Mort


Bryan Proteau, aka Cloven Hoov, is another artist I’ve admired from afar for quite some time. His stunning linework and mystical imagery consistently blow me away. Read more about the work of this talented, thoughtful individual here: Alchemical Linework: The Art of Bryan Proteau.


Feral House’s sister imprint, Process Media, continues to delight with their eclectic catalog that includes historical reprints, how-to books, music overviews. There was pretty much a zero percent chance I wasn’t going to be thrilled with their most recent title, Priestess of Morphine: The Lost Writings of Marie-Madeleine in the Time of Nazis, which covers the poetry and prose of the forgotten bisexual star of Wilhelminian and Weimar Germany. It’s like they plumbed my subconscious to come up with that title, for God’s sake! Read my full review on Heathen Harvest.


In other articles relating to notable queer women of history, I wrote about Golden Age Hollywood screen goddess Alla Nazimova for February’s Great Moment in Historical Sluttery at Slutist. More than just extravagant and beautiful, Nazimova was an accomplished talent who helped elevate other notable women. Oh, and he probably slept with both of Rudolph Valentino’s wives, if you want to get into the salacious stuff (which we all know you do). Read the article here: Alla Nazimova, Silver Screen Sappho.


I continue my exploration of heavy metal comics in my Stygian Imagery column at Nine Circles. This month, I highly recommend that readers check out Black Metal written by Rick Spears and Chuck BB. Don’t be a knucklehead like me and avoid it just because it’s about teens–it’s really great. Read my full review, in which I quote Venom lyrics to try to make some kind of point, somehow: Stygian Imagery: Black Metal by Rick Spears and Chuck BB.

Around the Web: Imperial Decadence, Predictable Violence, Metal Comics & Occult Fun

2016 has certainly started with a bang, and February holds some really exciting developments that I’m looking forward to sharing. For those of you looking for a handy run-down of what I’ve been up to, you’re in luck!


January’s installment of Great Moments in Historical Sluttery, my monthly column at Slutist, is probably one of my favorites so far. Roman Empress Messalina is a fascinating figure whose scandalous reputation continues to titillate audiences looking for tales of sexy intrigue. Short of the whole “getting executed for treason” thing, it’s pretty amazing to think that one’s insatiable sexual appetites would continue to be a topic of conversation two thousand years after one’s death. May we all be lucky enough to be the namesake of a German strip club. Read the article here.


On a completely different but also-controversial note, I reviewed Feral House’s spicy new release, The White Nationalist Skinhead Movement: UK & USA 1979-1993 for Heathen Harvest. SPOILER: Many people are punched; little is ultimately accomplished. This was a challenging read from a very different perspective than the majority of writing on the subject, though its 600-plus-page run length makes it a book geared towards the VERY curious. Of all of the exhaustive details, I think my favorite anecdote was the fact that Ian Stewart of Skrewdriver was used as a bogeyman to convince his friends’ kids to behave themselves.


Because I have friends who humor me perhaps a bit too much, I have a new monthly column at Nine Circles where I discuss heavy metal comics. My first installment of Stygian Imagery talks about Glenn Danzig’s Satanika. It’s exactly the sort of comic book that you’d imagine Glenn Danzig would write, in that it is full of tits and gore.


Lastly, but absolutely not leastly, my Art Coven sisters Becky Munich and S. Elizabeth brought together amazing artists and authors for their just-released Occult Activity Book and invited me to participate. If you’ve ever wanted Elizabeth Bathory paper dolls and Suspiria color-in pages, then boy howdy it is your lucky day! I’ve got my filthy hands on a copy of this and it is a creepy, cheeky good time. Purchase your copy here!

Elsewhere: Horizontal Collaboration, More Jean Rollin, Miro Snejdr, More Artwork…

It’s true, friends–gone are the days when I’m blogging about every single thing I’ve watched. Your devastation resonates directly into my black, patent-leather heart, but don’t despair. My graphomania is now dispersed across the web on various *other* platforms.

Living Dead Girl by Sarah Horrocks
Living Dead Girl by Sarah Horrocks

The second part of my look into the work of Jean Rollin and his connection to the world of visual art and comics can be read over at Dirge: Pulp Surrealism, Collage, and the Influence of Jean Rollin


December’s Great Moment in Historical Sluttery discussed Isadora Duncan, the Mother of Modern Dance, whose life was dramatic on every conceivable level, privately and publicly. Isadora Duncan: The Ritual of Dance and Freedom

Photo credit: Kate Lamb
Photo credit: Kate Lamb

At Heathen Harvest, I had an opportunity to chat with musician and composer Miro Snejdr, probably best known for his work with Death in June. Miro is one of the most organically gifted individuals I’ve spoken with, and the sort of person who thinks that it’s “boring” to be able to sit at a piano and create music as if touched by the hand of a higher power. The Magic Hand of Chance: An Interview with Miro Snejdr


Also at Heathen Harvest, I reviewed Horizontal Collaboration, the latest book by my favorite historian, the amazing Mel Gordon. His book on Weimar Berlin, Voluptuous Panic, has had a tremendous impact on my life, and Horizontal Collaboration is a worthy successor. Horizontal Collaboration: The Erotic World of Paris, 1920-1946

I also contributed my top three albums of the year to Heathen Harvest’s Best of 2015 list. It’s not terribly surprising if you’ve been reading this site for any period of time. Heathen Harvest’s Best of 2015/Best of the Quinquennium


In the midst of all this other running-about, I have a new print available for purchase. You can buy a copy of my Death and the Maiden shown above in the Heretical Sexts shop.

Should you be interested in working with me, I’ve also got a brand-new portfolio site you can visit to learn more about my work style and availability:

Around the Web: William Mortensen, Jean Rollin, Piracy, and The Unknown


I realize I express delight a lot; I have a boundless well of enthusiasm for dark and obscure things. But it’s with a true and noteworthy sense of delight that I announce that I’ll be contributing to Heathen Harvest, an absolutely mighty, fearless resource for underground music and culture. My first contribution to HH comes is a review of Feral House’s 2014 releases American Grotesque and The Command to Look, covering the work, career, and philosophies of William Mortensen.


Dirge Magazine continues to let me ply my trade in bizarro cinema. November saw my peek into the kinky world of The Unknown, a circus-set Tod Browning thriller starring Lon Chaney as a murderous performer who carries a torch for smoldering young Joan Crawford.


I’ve also written a two-part exploration of the films of Jean Rollin, the first of which posted recently and covers the director’s use of symbolism. Well, symbolism and bucketloads of sex. The sex is pretty important, really.


Speaking of sex, the babes at Slutist published November’s Great Moment in Historical Sluttery, which covered the pirate queen of the Chinese coast, Ching Shih. Pirates are great, but pirates with bisexual, incestuous threesomes are super-fucking-great. You should go read about her.


OH AND! Should you be in the NYC area this Sunday December 6, I will be manning the Heretical Sexts table at the St. Vitus Holiday Flea Market. I have brand new holiday cards as well as new prints, and the remaining copies of Die Mensur and all HS zine titles.

Around the Web: Mary Shelley, Horror Literature, Fantômas

In addition to publishing two very different titles over the past month via my micro-publishing imprint Heretical Sexts, I’ve also been blogging for two excellent websites that have been kind enough to say “yes” when I pitch them ideas like “GIFs about silent movies” or “essays about female historical figures with a sexy twist.”


Over at Slutist, you can read my latest installment of Great Moments in Historical Sluttery features Mary Shelley. For those of you who think of Mary Shelley only in terms of being the author of “Frankenstein” (no mean feat, mind you), prepare your brains to learn that she was also a prolific author and free thinker who was responsible for elevating her husband, Percy Bysshe Shelley, to the status of literary royalty after his untimely death. There’s also some stuff in there about graveside sex, because lurid historical details delight me to no end.

I’ve also started writing for Dirge Magazine, where I’ll be contributing a couple of posts a month on signature “lurid, weird, and fantastique” topics. Dirge is a great resource for articles on what I like to think of as Pan-Spooky-ist topics: movies, music, art, writing, and general creepy-sexiness.

I kicked things off in style with an essay on why you guys should be watching the Fantômas serials. It’s got rad GIFs like this:


I also made a list of seven songs inspired by dark classics of literature and graciously provided links to where folks can read these wonderful books, because I am only capable of loving old, anachronistic things. A lot of people read that article, which is pretty cool. I hope they all listened to Toto Coelo’s “Dracula’s Tango” all the way through (I still think that song is woefully under-appreciated). Then again, if they just played The Velvet Underground’s “Venus in Furs” over and over again, I am comfortable with that outcome as well.

Photo by
Photo by

Finally, dear friend and fellow lover of weird, old things Mlle. Ghoul took some time out to interview me on her blog Unquiet Things. We chatted about Tinto Brass, Mensur, and Scooby Doo. I also reveal that Duran Duran’s “Girls on Film” was single-handedly responsible for getting MTV banned in my household.

Recent Work: Mata Hari, Dr. Sadism, and Historical Sluttery

Below are some recent additions to my  portfolio of illustration work–enjoy!

mata hari-SCREEN

Mata Hari – 11.7″ x 16.5″, ink and watercolor on bristol board. Private collection.

drsadism-SCREENTorture Chamber of Dr. Sadism – 11″ x 17″ ink on bristol with digital color. For Spectacle Theater in Brooklyn.


Great Moments in Historical Sluttery – Empress Theodora for Slutist. Read the accompanying article I wrote and see the entire illustration on the Slutist website (which you should really be following if you love kickass women as much as I do). Illustration is ink on bristol with digital color.


Great Moments in Historical Sluttery – Calamity Jane for Slutist. So I kinda missed my July deadline because I am sometimes bad at life (I make up for it with gobs of charm), but she’s technically July’s History Slut. Read the article and see the full illustration on the Slutist website.


Alraune [1928]


There are an almost infinite number of enticements I could use to convince you to watch Henrik Galeen’s 1928 screen adaptation of Hanns Heinz Ewers’ decadent occult romance novel “Alraune,” but for the purposes of brevity and impact, I’ve selected the five GIFs below to plead my case. While the film departs from the source material in several particulars, it retains much of the cruelly humorous eroticism while adding in a tension-filled train ride and an extended circus interlude. Those are both terrifically Weimar Era touches to which I simply cannot object.

Backing up a few paces: the novel “Alraune” tells the story of a woman created by a scientist through artificially inseminating a prostitute with the seed of a hanged convict (deftly harvested during the criminal’s death throes) that the resulting child might take on the magical characteristics of the mandrake (alraune) root. This daughter brings both incredible luck and tragic misfortune to every person who attempts to get close to her, from bewitched fellow students in her convent school though besotted men who bend to her whims.

The English cut of the film adaptation glosses over Alraune’s conception, though for Those In The Know it’s all pretty much there, opening as it does on a fantastically moody gallows with lurking figures beneath. What the film does maintain, though, is the novel’s overarching spirit and (spoiler alert for an almost-100-year-old movie based on an over-100-year-old book) while the ending is significantly more upbeat, there’s something deliciously subversive about transforming a tale of a born-and-bred femme fatale into a redemption arc.

With that, I’ll proceed onto the facts of the case.


FIRSTLY: “Alraune” features an actual “train going into a tunnel” cut to indicate two characters having sex. That’s fucking terrific.

alraune-4SECONDLY: Have you ever wanted to see Brigitte Helm, Maria from “Metropolis,” performing an adorable calisthenics routine? Then I admire the specificity of your tastes and will inform you that this is your film, friend.

alraune-3THIRDLY: There is a beer-drinking bear.

alraune-5FOURTHLY: I direct you to GIF Left, in which there is a woman wearing a monocle. The monocle was frequently donned by cosmopolitan German women who wished to indicate their lesbian identity, in a supreme gesture of elegant sartorial BAMF-ery.

alraune-1FIFTHLY (and perhaps most importantly): “Alraune” features some of the best exchanges of Significant Looks ever captured on film. The smoking! The gazes! The cheekbones! It’s more than the heart can stand.

And with that, I leave you to watch “Alraune” (aka “A Daughter of Destiny”):

Teen Witches, Russian Bloodsuckers, and Lunatics Running the Asylum: Recent Watch Run-down

It’s that time again: here’s some stuff I’ve watched recently that you, too, can view on your streaming service of choice.


The Sisterhood of Night (2014)

As the one woman my age who was not enchanted with “The Craft,” I really wanted the recent teen witch outsider movie “Sisterhood of the Night” to satisfy my yearning for an occult thriller that fully exploits the nightmarish hellscape of American high school. I feel like younger viewers will probably get more out of this modern-day “Crucible” story of ostracization, mania, and eventual redemption than I did. Director Caryn Waechter does a fine job eliciting memorable performances from her cast of young woman actors, and Georgie Henley plays lead witchy-chick Mary with a fine balance of charisma and vulnerability.  Perhaps the most refreshing thing about this movie is seeing teenage girls portrayed with a degree of nuance and realism not usually seen in movies (god, being a teenage girl was horrible–I DO NOT RECOMMEND the experience to others).


Night Watch (2004)

This tale of warring factions of Russian supernatural creatures is like being inside someone else’s migraine for almost two hours. Frenetic, inscrutable, and with far more mythos-building than any movie about monsters punching each other deserves, it does have a beautiful handling of animated, artistic subtitles in the US release going for it.


Stonehearst Asylum (2014)

Holy cow, was I charmed by this adaptation of Poe’s “The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Father.” I went into this suspicious of any adaptation of that story, which had already been done with psychedelic bombast in 1973 by Juan Lopez Moctezuma in “Mansion of Madness.” Fortunately, the movie doesn’t chiefly turn on Poe’s famous twist ending–this same twist does appear early in the movie but it’s used to set the stage for further convolutions of the pleasantly gothic variety. Directed by Brad Anderson (who’s also responsible for haunted asylum-themed cult fave “Session 9”), “Stonehearst Asylum” balances the darkness of gothic fiction with a pleasant dose of the cheekiness that can also be found in that source material, but is often overlooked by modern adaptations. Hell, even Kate Beckinsdale (star of the “Underworld” franchise, speaking of movies with way too much backstory to their monster-punching) is a delight in this.


London in the Raw (1965)

The Mondo well must have been running dry at this point, as the big gore/surgery setpiece involves a man getting hairplugs. Thanks, but I’ll take the mensur fencers and Grand Guignol in “Ecco!”

A Tale of Three Livias: Female Desire and Military Decadence in Senso


“Senso:” the title of Camillo Boito’s 1882 novella evokes the senses, primal feelings that are more immediate than reason. A stunning work of decadent fiction, “Senso” is the story of Livia, a 22-year-old countess married to a much older man who recounts her obsession with her “strong, handsome, degenerate, reprobate” lover, the soldier Romigio. I have a soft spot for horrible leading characters, and Livia is truly dreadful: she’s vain, impulsive, and vengeful with a complete disregard for anyone by herself. The very name “Livia” evokes the deified wife of the Roman emperor Augustus, known as an idealized, queenly matriarch, but this Livia is called “Messalina” by her lover, linking her more closely to the wife of Emperor Claudius who was rumored to be wildly promiscuous. Romigio proves himself to be precisely the kind of scoundrel he’s always presented himself to be, wheedling lavish gifts from Livia, who delights in stealing her husband’s money for her roguish, beautiful side piece. Things turn sour when Livia discovers that—in addition to his gambling, drinking, and excesses—Romigio also keeps other lovers, she finds a final way to squeeze pleasure out of her relationship with him: ratting him out as a deserter and watching his execution. A story of lust, extreme selfishness, and power against the backdrop of war, “Senso” begs to be adapted for the screen.


Luchino Visconti’s 1954 version of “Senso” is a lavish period piece set, like Boito’s novella, in Italy during the 1860s at a time of escalating tension with Austria. Livia (Alida Valli) is married to an aristocrat with ties to Austria, but Visconti adds a “competing loyalties” storyline with the new character of Livia’s cousin, the leader of an Italian rebellion against the Austrian occupiers. Visconti’s Livia is not the arrogant young woman depicted by Boito; instead she an aging beauty plagued by anxieties who is swept away by the dashing Lieutenant Franz Mahler (the renamed Romogio, played by Farley Granger who used the time in between filming to carry on an affair with Jean Marais). It’s clear that Franz is bad news, but Livia convinces herself he loves only her, in spite of his known reputation as a drunk and a womanizer. Rather than being a headstrong femme fatale—the Satanic Female so favored by the decadent movement—Visconti’s Livia is a tragic figure and this is the story of her downfall.


Key moments of sensuality populate the novella: Livia examines bruises on her body, her first tryst with Romigio takes place while swimming nude in a public bath, and there are references to her body being “crushed” and “bitten” during sex. Visconti transforms this physical sensuality into a purely visual beauty. Bruised, bitten shoulders are replaced by sumptuous layers of silk gowns and crushing sex becomes smoldering eye contact of the kind Visconti films so adeptly. It’s a breathlessness not of exertion and exhaustion, but of constraint. This Livia doesn’t pant from her unrestrainable sexual urges, but is unable to breathe due to tight bodices and heavy gowns.


Toxic intimacy gives way to sweeping battlefield sequences, shifting focus from Livia and Franz to the greater impact of war on the country. Livia’s obsession feels trivial when contrasted with images of wounded soldiers and chaotic fighting. Livia isn’t so much driven by desire, as she is hysterical. In fact, her neglect of duties to her countrymen is made explicit when she gives money earmarked for her cousin’s resistance efforts to her lover so he can avoid active duty. The consequences of her choice are made terribly obvious when the Austrian army defeats the Italian partisans.


In a final departure from Boito, Visconti constructs a confrontation between Livia and her cheating lover that doesn’t exist for Boito. It is enough for Boito’s Livia to witness Romigio’s unfaithfulness without being seen, but Visconti depicts a heartrending scene in which Franz, caught in the arms of a prostitute and bragging about taking Livia’s money, rants his explanation at Livia, maddening her with grief and regret. This Livia musters the last of her dignity to turn him in, instead of ruthlessly informing on him and taking pleasure in his death.

Visconti’s film is a breathtaking one in its beauty, if not due to the dark sensuality evoked by Boito. To watch one of the director’s period pieces is to be put into an idealized, luxurious vision of the aristocratic past, where rooms are decorated in museum-worthy furnishings, every uniform is crisp and spotless, and one can hear the rustle of crinolines in the gowns worn by the women. While Visconti’s “Senso” leaves a lot to be desired in terms of decadence, it’s a stunner of a melodrama.

The view of Visconti’s “Senso” as a none-too-authentic adaptation Boito’s novella was one held by the director himself (who at one point wanted to rename the project entirely) as well as by Tinto Brass. Brass has mastered bringing the decadent aesthetic to the screen: plush, beautiful, immersive, horrific, and explicitly sexual, Brass fills his films with images designed to provoke a reaction. If decadence is defined as the rejection of realism in favor of artifice, then movies like “Caligula” and “Salon Kitty”—rooted in history but not terribly mindful of depicting it accurately—were cast in the decadent mold.


Tinto Brass’ 2002 “Senso ‘45” (aka ”Black Angel”) is the director’s attempt to connect the “Sensos” of Boito and Visconti, taking the latter’s adaptation and reworking many of the threads missing from the former’s novella. Revisiting the operatic fascism of “Salon Kitty,” though this time in the declining days of the German occupation of Italy, Brass recasts Livia (Anna Galiena) as the wife of an Italian fascist official and Romigio as SS Lieutenant Helmut Schultz (Gabriel Garko, sporting a regrettable bleach-blonde hairstyle).


The older woman/younger man dynamic of Visconti is present in “Senso ’45.” It’s noteworthy that the age shift on the part of the woman makes her a sympathetic figure—for a woman to begin to lose the beauty traditionally associated with youth is seen as tragic, but to depict a young woman in full realization of the power of this same beauty makes her demonic and threatening. To have the demonic female in a relationship with the demonic male (made explicitly demonic in Brass by his Nazi affiliation) creates an ambiguous balance of power and one that’s arguably closer to Boito’s original intent.


What Brass does bring to the forefront from Boito is the emphasis on sexual passion. The bodies so carefully disguised in meticulous period costuming in Visconti are on full display here—Brass’ no-less-gorgeous costumes are designed to be stripped from the players in moments of animal passion, with all the “crushing” and “biting” described by Boito. “Senso ‘45” is an extremely dark and cynical romance, with Livia frequently put into situations that force her to “overcome” some kind of inhibition (in contrast to the fully-realized sexuality of Boito’s protagonist). Of course, this being a Tinto Brass movie, we get a first row seat to Livia indulging in oral sex, group sex, public sex, anal sex, and transforming herself into a sexually awakened being as a result. There’s even a tonally bizarre scene—likely included to show us her point of view—where Livia and her SS boy-toy frolic at the seashore in a moment that feel like it would be at home in “The Blue Lagoon.”

Where Boito’s Livia is responding to her true nature and acting on her impulses, Brass’ Livia finds herself guided down a path of decadence. A character invented by Brass is Elsa, the procuress who ushers Livia into her first sexual encounter with Helmut and later is shown running a bordello and gambling den.


It’s noteworthy that, unlike the vast majority of Italian Nazi epics, “Senso ‘45” is set in and explicitly features images of Italian fascism. The streets of Venice are plastered with huge images of Mussolini and rifle-toting black-shirted troops roam the streets. While the movie never shows the front, the realities of war are present with blackouts and air raids a constant reminder that the social order is collapsing (or being returned to its proper alignment, with the ever-advancing Allies). World War II atrocities are evoked when Livia and Helmut witness the shooting of an unarmed woman in the streets. This does little to dampen their ardor, however, as they’re shown in their love nest apartment moments later.

The degree to which Helmut has exploited Livia is revealed when she discovers him spending the money she’d given him to save him from the front alongside a prostitute. The cruelty of the confrontation is emphasized here, with Helmut pointing out Livia’s age and laughing at her conviction that he loved her. What’s devastating to Livia has been obvious to the audience from the moment Helmut’s black-uniformed figure appeared on screen: he’s a vicious, amoral degenerate without a care for any other human being. The eroticism of Livia’s revenge on Helmut is emphasized in Brass, but a feeling of justification detracts from the shock at her final act of vindictiveness. Helmut/Romigio was not her equal in degeneracy, as is implied in Boito, but rather a far more horrible creature whose seductive power overwhelmed the already morally ambivalent politician’s wife.

This shift of power away from Livia as the stunning young noblewoman of Boito that transforms her into the elegant neurotic of Visconti and the late-blooming hothouse flower of Brass is an interesting choice. It’s almost as if the directors find it impossible to think the audience would be able to watch a movie focused on the demonic woman of decadent literature. Do they see her as a misogynist relic of a time past? Do they simply feel the viewer requires a sympathetic woman at the center of their stories in order to “sell” a narrative that hinges on revenge, rather than on Boito’s carnal death drive climax? Is it possible that, in recasting Livia as the “woman scorned” they’ve missed a key part of the power at the heart of the source novella?