Black Sun is an over-the-top psychedelic masterpiece, in the league of The Child Of The Sun by the same authors. Disco in literary form. This is how the book is described on the jacket: “in BLACK SUN the background is no longer the slave-breeding farms of the pre-civil war South, but the lush and violent island of Haiti where a handsome, brawny New Englander has come to claim his Caribbean plantation. Here he becomes enmeshed with a lovely half-caste who initiates him into the strange and sensual rites of Voodoo, and plays a blazing and tumultous role in the bloody revolution led by the giant slave Henry Christophe.”
The insane and politically incorrect text seethes with interracial lust and unhinged violence. A voodoo princess drinks blood from the stump of a severed head during sex. Moroccoan boy slaves get buggered. Everyone is sweaty, crazed with perverse passions, or an African werewolf. The whole narrative unfolds like a drug trip. Here’s a sample:
“The tropic night descended. There was a flash of vivid colors in the sky – a kaleidoscopic shifting of orange, cerise, green and heliotrope – then all faded into a sapphire which in turn changed into amethyst and finally, when the scrubbed tin plate of the moon rose, to an emerald black. The drums had started. The sound extended from nowhere to everywhere, down from the mountains, up from the plains and back again. The night became alive with the drums of Africa, booming, throbbing, pulsating. The message came to him with clarity. The drums spoke to him, and he longed to do all the things they suggested. He wanted to feel warm black flesh in his fingers and satisfy his needs crudely and primitively with a ruthless savage power. But with that soft black flesh to caress, he found he needed another flesh – white flesh to bruise and hurt, to kill and mangle. And still the drums exploded like invisible fireworks into the night.”
The music is by Fela Kuti.