Unholy Shite: Rawhead Rex

 

“Rawhead Rex” stinks like the urine and shite prevalent in Clive Barker’s story. It is the bowel movement of the depraved author’s sewery imagination in which Barker gets to torture the reader with all his resentment, hatred, and bitter iconoclasm pursued with a vengeance. It can be argued that Rawhead Rex serves as an embodiment of Barker, although it is not the only instrument of his expression.

Thus, Rawhead’s hatred of children is Barker’s. The desecrations performed lustily at the pointedly eponymous St. Peter’s are Barkers desecrations. Declan Ewan’s declarations of worship are Barker’s, and Ron Milton’s blasphemy about what God has done to him are Barker’s – even though the way to destroy Rawhead comes via a priest.

The prevalence of industrial strength depravity, blasphemy, murder, betrayal, and stupidity strongly suggest Barker views mankind in a dark light. Nobody, regardless of his or her personality, is cast in a morally good light; an instinctually good light, perhaps, but certainly not on the human level. Barker has manufactured shallow characters that reflect his shallow take on humanity, and he purposefully crafts scenes designed to spotlight and exalt blasphemy and the murder of children, etc. The last sentence – Rawhead’s urine draining off into the “welcoming earth” – topped his authorial effluent with a bizarre ending.

“Rawhead Rex” lacks context. We are told it’s an ancient creature who used to be king, presumably before the Celts arrived, but king of what is never told. The Venus statute lacks context. How do we know it’s a “Venus”, keeping in mind she’s a Greek, not Celtic, deity. Is it simply a fertility statue? (I understand the moniker “Venus statue” may have a broader application than it’s suggested literal meaning.) That it’s buried in the church altar suggests Barker believes Christianity rests on a foundation of paganism, something that has been largely refuted but, oh, well. That the statue was buried inside the altar doesn’t mean the parishioners were worshiping it, no more than all people who attend a Mass or a service are worshiping Jesus because a crucifix or cross hangs in the sanctuary. What lies in each person’s heart and mind determines what is being worshiped. And if a bunch of people in the past (I think we are finally told it’s about 1400) were able to control and bury the creature, why wouldn’t today’s folk be able to conquer it? We know they are able to, so any genuine tension and suspense is erased. The unease we feel is having to slog through Barker’s septic tank story.

Several fatal plot holes wound Barker’s story. Thomas Garrow has no idea of what lies in the three-acre field? There’s no passed-down, family history? He knows the field has lain fallow but not why? How convenient! His ancestors took all the pains they did to bury the wretched creature but they forgot to tell their descendants. Unbelievable!

Two fathers ignore the danger to their families: Dennie decides it’s more important to go after someone in his barn than to take care of his daughter, whose dread springs from the unnatural, but he doesn’t detect that. Dennie’s wife makes an emergency call, but apparently no one ever comes – the bodies are discovered later. Though he knows a vicious, savage mass killer is roaming around Zeal, Ron wants to keep his family there rather than return to London because it’s more important to become part of the community (even to die with the community!!!)!?!? It’s crystal clear Barker has never, ever been a father and hasn’t the faintest notion of what it means to be one.

The fear the monster has for only menstruating women, instead of all fertile women whether they are menstruating or not, doesn’t jibe with its fear of the Venus statue, which in turn does not jibe with his appetite. Fertile women guarantee Rawhead a never-ending meal supply, regardless of how old the victims are. They all came out of women, even family-endangering Ron. Where did Rawhead come from? Was he not the product of a female? Barker doesn’t say. He hasn’t thought it out.

Ron getting ticked off at God? What a laugher! He makes sure his family is on the menu. Where is his inconsolable guilt at the terrible, Ian-condemning decision he made? If anyone took a shite on someone else, it was Ron! He wants to turn to the Reverend Mr. Coot? Barker has given us nothing about Ron that would indicate the slightest interest in religion or the possession of a sliver of faith; but now, instead of protecting the remnant of his family by getting the hay out of town, he wants to linger in Zeal and seek out Coot and God to explain what is going on and to show him how to defeat the monster!?

Maybe the other Barker short story we are going to read will be different; for now, Barker is not an author I would be looking to for inspiration or craft.