He wants to make you sit bolt upright and, occasionally, cause your stomach to clench. His goal is not to gently unsettle or bring on cosy, pre-bedtime chills. He is punk to his core and greatest hits such as the Hellbound Heart (adapted into Hellraiser) and the Books of Blood ripple with taboo imagery. They are, in their own ways, asking us to gather around the campfire, where ghost stories will be shared.īarker isn’t interested in spooky tales. Many horror writers, even doyens such as Stephen King, have a weakness for the schlocky and the quaint. And writing like crazy.īefore his accident Barker, 68, was horror’s ultimate bad boy. “It feels as though after illness and silence I’m finally back… back where I was,” he says, his accent hovering somewhere between Beverly Hills and his hometown of Liverpool. And yet, if understandably cautious about his health, he is upbeat too. He’s still recovering from the toxic shock that sent him into a coma in 2012, which is why he and his husband, Roman, must take every precaution. We’re both nervous and anxious.”īarker, the wild child of Eighties British horror, is seeing out the coronavirus in his mansion high in the Hollywood hills. “My husband and I don’t embrace now,” says Clive Barker. It’s close to midnight and the voice down the phone line from Los Angeles is hoarse and faint but full of warmth.

The forbidden clive barker summary