A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘The Laughing Corpse’ chapter twelve


Dead Dave’s is in the part of St. Louis that has two names. Polite: the Riverfront. Rude: the Blood Quarter.

I smell retcon! It’s the ‘Blood Square’ in the other book. It’s called ‘continuity’ and I advise you use it.

I had changed into black shorts, royal-blue polo shirt, black Nikes with a matching blue swish, black and white jogging socks, and a black leather belt.

If you have been with me since my Sookie reviews, you will know that I really, really, really, really, really, really, REALLY despise overly long descriptions of clothing. I do not need to know exactly what Anita is wearing. I really don’t. If it’s important, why not just say ‘I was wearing black and blue today, but the most important part of my outfit was my belt, so my shoulder holster had something to hang onto’. She then goes on about how great the outfit looks and the pattern the shirt has. I do not care. No one cares.

Anyway, she’s got a lot of extra-spushul bullets with her in case she runs into JC. SADFACE TIEM. The Great and Powerful Anita Blake does not want to meet up with JC because he wants to give her immortality. That bastard!

He was tall, pale, and handsome. Sexier than a silk teddy.

Oh, you hetronormative folks. You describe people you’re attracted to in such weird ways.

MMMMM that clothing is just so handsome.

Anita meets up with Irving in a vampire bar full of city boy types. I use the phrase ‘city boy’ instead of ‘yuppie’ which I’m sorry, does sound incredibly dated now. She casts her eye over Luther, the bartender.

His skin is so black, it has purple highlights.

….

what.

Yes, these are truly the colours of people of Black African ancestry. I don’t know why they aren’t called ‘purple’ instead of black.

Luther has a message for Anita. It’s to stop making a big deal about how you’re a teetotaler in a bar when some people, like your reviewer, can’t drink for medical reasons and still go to bars to have fun. Oh, and JC wants to see her. Like real bad. He can’t phone her or come round to see her because SHUT UP he has to do vampire master stuff, like lay upon velvet couches, being evil and dull. If she doesn’t come to see him, she’ll get kidnapped and brought to him.

JC is lazy.

Irving pines for information but Anita says ‘NO down boy!’. Irving, suitably chastised, says that Gaynor enjoys crippled women because ew, its bad to have a fetish for women with disabilities. They are like, so gross, not able to walk and hear and stuff. Gaynor’s never been charged with anything but has suspected mob connections and some old girlfriend to tried to sue him for palimony but mysteriously disappeared. There’s enough evidence for the press to know he’s a money launderer but not enough for the police to be interested.

I don’t understand why authors in the urban fantasy genre hate the police so much. I really don’t.

Irving gives Anita a picture of Gaynor’s last girlfriend ‘Wheelchair Wanda’ who is a prostitute.  ‘Wheelchair Wanda’?

Anita’s going to go talk to her about Gaynor. What happened to finding the monster that killed the little boy being the most important thing, and nothing was more important than that, ever ever ever? Consistency? What is this madness?

OH AND WHOOPS IT IS FULL DARK NOW

How did you not notice? How long have you been in this bar? You arrived in the middle of the afternoon and suddenly it’s about nine o’clock at night. TIME. WHAT IS THIS THING.

Dead Dave arrives and is all like ‘JC is totally powerful and shit, he doesn’t laze around on velvet couches with a fat fluffy cat eating chocolates and bitch about why you don’t call Anita, you should call him’. And Anita is all like ‘I am Great and Powerful, so I can ignore JC ahahahaha’.

JC is rapidly becoming a slightly overweight woman who is obsessed with pink with a neurotic cat in my mind.

I was the Executioner. If a vampire stepped over the line, they sent for me. There was no such thing as a life sentence for a vamp. Death or nothing. No prison can hold a vampire.

What? Are you saying that NO ONE is able to think up a prison that can hold a vampire? How about one built of pure silver, staffed by priests? That would work! Also, how come vampires are full citizens but enjoy less rights than the average American? If they do something wrong, they get killed immediately. So only humans are capable of change and remorse, and vampires aren’t? What a crock of shit! I know, this is kind of opposite to what I’ve been saying about Hamilton’s vampires, and how they’re all like super-powerful and everything, but apparently, they are incapable of change and development. And that’s a pretty shitty way of being looked at – that as a race, there is absolutely no redemption, no looking at individuals and everything is looked at in a societal way. Plus, seeing as they’re another race, it’s something that would get noticed by other nat- oh, wait, America is the only place to embrace vampirism. The rest of the world are uptight prudes who can’t embrace the sexy and the sexy underwear that they look like. Oh well.

Now let us listen to Prejudice by Tim Minchin:

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4 thoughts on “A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘The Laughing Corpse’ chapter twelve

  1. “How about one built of pure silver, staffed by priests? That would work!”

    ….why did I never think of that while reading these books? But I at least did note in my sporks that it seems unlikely that humans never learned how to make a vampire-proof prison when vampires have existed (and humans KNEW it, they were not a secret, just ‘illegal’) for all of history alongside us? I think I’ve said this before, but Hamilton’s world often seems less like ‘they’ve always been here’ and more like ‘they just got here and we’re still adjusting’, both in terms of ways people have (or don’t have) of dealing with vamps/weres/witches/etc and in terms of how little everyone but Anita knows about them.

    For the record, this is the only book that people with disabilities will show up in. And they will only appear as evil people with a fetish for other disabled folks to show how depraved they are, or as the object of the fetish to show how depraved the person into them is. It’s not that I think a disabled person should never ever be portrayed as evil, but when that or a fetishized victim is the ONLY time that someone disabled appears…yeah, that is some messed-up shit on Hamilton’s part, heads-up.

    There are some black people who are so dark their skin does look almost like it has a violet undertone somehow, so I guess that’s what she means but “highlights” is not the way I’d describe it. It sounds like he’s shining with purple streaks on him or something.

    “JC is rapidly becoming a slightly overweight woman who is obsessed with pink with a neurotic cat in my mind” I THINK HE’D ACTUALLY BE MORE FUN TO READ ABOUT THIS WAY, HONESTLY

    • ‘Oh god, she won’t call me back Mr Puddykins! What should I do? I just feel so alone…. should we watch Desperate Housewives tonight? I’ll summon up my minions, and we can eat chocolate, and curl my hair!’

      ‘Meow.’

      JC will always be like this from now on in my sporks. Forever.

      He also loves Barbara Cartland.

  2. I love your JC. Incidentally, the weird Hamilton-Verse time dilation only gets worse. Sadly, I only noticed its appearance in the early novels as I stumbled upon your reviews, which are hilarious and so true in hindsight. But, what really drove it home for me was a scene in ‘Incubus Dreams’ -which I physically could not read it was so bad, so I listened to the audiobook at work- where biscuits are being made in the background.

    I think the dough was premade to save time, but as one who frequently bakes I can attest that biscuits cannot cook in 5 minutes. Which was about how much conversation was going on. Either it was the longest, stilted conversation in the world or Anita has magical time manipulation powers along with everything else.

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