David Cronenberg Volgorde van de boeken
David Cronenberg is een gevierd filmmaker, bekend als een van de belangrijkste grondleggers van het body horror-genre. Zijn werk duikt diep in de menselijke angsten voor lichamelijke transformatie en infectie, waarbij het psychologische onlosmakelijk verweven is met het fysieke. Gedurende zijn carrière heeft hij met meesterschap gevaren door horror- en sciencefictionmotieven, waarbij hij vaak de donkerdere aspecten van menselijk verlangen en de lichamelijke vorm verkende. Zijn debuutroman, Consumed, put uit soortgelijke verontrustende thema's die zijn visueel boeiende filmografie definiëren.






- 2014
- 2014
Consumed. Verzehrt, English Edition
- 284bladzijden
- 10 uur lezen
The story of two journalists whose entanglement in a French philosopher's death becomes a surreal journey into global conspiracy.
- 2014
Consumed
- 358bladzijden
- 13 uur lezen
The story of two journalists whose entanglement in a French philosopher's death becomes a surreal journey into global conspiracy.
- 1997
Cronenberg on Cronenberg
- 256bladzijden
- 9 uur lezen
With films such as The Brood and Videodrome, David Cronenberg established himself as Canada's most provocative director. With subsequent movies such as The Dead Zone, The Fly, Dead Ringers and Naked Lunch, Cronenberg demonstrated his ability not only to touch painful nerves but also to invest his own developing genre with seriousness, philosophical dimension and a rare emotional intensity.Cronenberg on Cronenberg charts his development from maker of inexpensive 'exploitation' cinema to internationally renowned director of million-dollar movies, and reveals the concerns and obsessions which continue to dominate his increasingly rich and complex work. This edition, with an additional chapter, follows Cronenberg's work up to the creation of Crash.
- 1983
In the world that lies ahead of us all, reality and hallucination will merge and interchange. So when Max Renn saw the flesh of his stomach swell and redden as though a giant worm was moving beneath the skin, was that imagination—or reality? And when the skin split and the flesh parted like giant lips, soft and bloodied. When he could sink his fingers, his whole hand, deep inside, feeling and probing through the wall of his own stomach. As the juices, thick and warm, clung and sucked gently at his finger-tips, drawing him in. As the bile rose, hot with revulsion in his throat.... Was that a nightmare—or reality?