Some error occured while loading the Quick View. Please close the Quick View and try reloading the page.
A speculative avant-garde queer horror novel that reads like an erotic vampiric nightmare directed by Jodorowsky playing at a '50s drive-in.
Beyond the Planet of the Vampires is a gay pulp horror novel of chance. The narrative erratically loses and regains consciousness during an apocalyptic space invasion of psychic vampires, reaching across intergalactic fathoms in search of future victims.
Smoldering in a social alienation reminiscent of Genet's outlaw anti-heroes, Baer's novel screams with Joycean word play in an entirely new and unique idiom, where theories of Kant are situated with reckonings of identity and postulations on the nature of evil.
On each page, Ulrich Baer creates an enigmatic performance of both philosophical and queer thought, exercised through the rich aesthetic experience of a retro horror film. Beyond the Planet of the Vampires redefines avant-garde in a relentless, generation-defining voice.
"Readers up for the challenge will be rewarded with plentiful idiosyncratic word play, poetic turns of phrase, and haunting images." —Publishers Weekly
"Think Paul Celan and Buck Rogers meet up with the Beowulf poet in Nosferatu’s castle where Dennis Cooper is watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show and you'll get some small sense of what goes down in Ulrich Baer’s excellent new novel. Wondrous, strange, disturbing and sexy, Beyond the Planet of the Vampires, where 'words drill the void edges' and 'bonfires fuse borders,' is a riotous tour-de-force." —Laird Hunt, author of Zorrie
"'If god is immanence, then we are already consecrated’ Baer writes, in Beyond the Planet of the Vampires, but what forces lurk in that consecration. Cascades of language crash & thrum here, in fields of clover, in desert nights under streetlights, in distant cities, in ‘god’s profligate architecture,’ in the hard planetary materia, crystals, storms, in eroticism & violence, a deeply seeking phenomenological consciousness whirls about, wielding words as mutable lumps in the surging, seething elemental forces. Grief wheels like this, & seeks like this, ‘in inconsolable excess,’ on a worlded planet where the mysterious other is encountered, fucked, punches, & fades back into the roiling mass of forms. ‘The wound’ he writes, ‘thronged.’ Here, he has given us a testament of, for, from, & inside of the thronging." —Cody-Rose Clevidence, author of Aux Arc Trypt Ich