I have a deep-rooted love for the work of Samuel R. "Chip" Delany. He is a masterful writer, with a gift for language which continues to astound me. His 800 page prose-poem Dhalgren is one of my favorite books, and one which well deserves the extensive and thoughtful analysis it has received over the years.

Among his ouvre one book has achieved an almost legendary status: Hogg. Even after Delany was firmly established as a "bankable" author, this mid-70s novel remained unpublished for nearly twenty years. According to many readers, it should have remained so. It is one of the most profoundly disturbing and unsettling books I have ever read. It is also, however, remarkably good.

At its most literal, Hogg is the story of a professional rapist, as told by the teenaged boy who becomes his lover. Almost every page contains graphic depictions of the most vile and stomach-churning acts imaginable — in fact, they are beyond the imaginations of most people. Rape, murder, torture, mutilation, incest, and sexual acts are described in numbing detail for page after page. Some books are clearly not for the squeamish, but even if you think you have a strong stomach, be prepared for a challenging read. The first time I read Hogg I had to put it down frequently and take a moment to collect myself before continuing. It's that harrowing.

So why would I read it again if it was so horrifying? It is one of the most challenging and original novels I have ever read. In spire of my warnings, this isn't merely a gross-out book, a prank on the literary set. Delany has created complex characters who operate by a completely different morality, and taken us into their lives and minds without looking away. Hogg and Denny are, by our standards, demonic creatures, irredeemably evil in thought and deed. However, Delany's genius is in avoiding cliche, and in making us realize that his characters are not inherently monsters. They fall in love, appreciate art, experience loss, follow an ethical code — they are human beings. Delany humanizes Hogg, not to make us sympathize with him or understand him, but to warn us, to show us how thin the line is between us and them.

The book is not at all perfect. Some of the social commentary and satire falls a bit flat, perhaps a victim of the time passing between writing and publication. Also, some of the supporting characters are thoroughly two-dimensional, practically stereotypes, although if I'm feeling charitable I could attribute that to Delany's desire to bring his protagonists into sharper relief. And though this is minor, the edition I own (Black Ice Books, 1996 trade paperback) is plagued with typographical errors, including repeated paragraphs, misspellings, and missing text. However, I am not unsympathetic to the fate of the poor copy editor who had to read and re-read the manuscript while on deadline. That is not a job I would want.

I've owned this book for ten years now. In those years I have never recommended the book to anyone, although I have described its merits to any with an interest. It known among my friends that it is available for them to borrow, if they want, but that I take no responsibility for it. A couple have taken on the challenge, but none to my knowledge have managed to finish it. It sets a new standard for difficult, but if you are able to numb yourself to the horrors depicted, it is a remarkable novel.

This essay is for Sherri, because she asked, and because it's her birthday. Be careful what you wish for...