Incubus By Ray Russell

Incubus

By Ray Russell
1977 Dell
Paperback,251 pages

 

                Ray Russell will always have a place in my heart for writing the story ”Sardonicus” and adapting it for the screenplay to Mr. Sardonicus, William Castle’s 1961 masterpiece. That story first appeared in Playboy where Russell was the fiction editor. Fifteen years later, it seems that Russell may have drawn on some of the more salacious elements of his Playboy gig when he was writing this novel. Incubus is, as the Washington Star reviewed it, “not for the squeamish”.

 

                A series of brutal rape/ murders are terrorizing the small coastal California town of Galen. The victims have been torn apart down yonder, bludgeoned by a massive member and covered with semen. Well, yuck! Police investigations turn up nothing and the local doctor rules out many of his male patients as suspect because he knows they aren’t packing that kind of heat. Only Julian Trask, an anthropologist who is back in town (he was a Galen teacher) to help figure the crimes out, has an inkling as to what is happening. His theory is supernatural and is not taken seriously by most. Until there is no alternative. As in many books of the era, much Scotch is consumed throughout the proceedings.

 

                Sound sleazy? Sound perverted? It is both but Russell’s prose are so polished and readable that it really doesn’t read as lascivious as it sounds. It is a mystery story, trying to figure out just who the incubus might be. The cast of characters are all well fleshed out and while many are not very likeable, they still convey enough emotion that I got invested in them. Many of the adults seem like real prudes (BJs are the devil’s work!) and despite many strong female characters, a story like this can’t help but have a thread of misogyny going through it. The attacks are brutal, gory and disgusting and even locking up all of the women in protective custody (see what I mean?) doesn’t keep out the sexual evil spirit.

 

                In 1981, the book was adapted into a film directed by John Hough. Some key changes were made to the story making it stupid, like the incubus attacking males as well. Kind of makes the whole “male demon raping women to prolong its bloodline” part of being an incubus obsolete. The movie is lame, the book is great (if you have the stomach for it) and I highly recommend it to purveyors of putrid pulp.