David Cronenberg Orden de los libros
David Cronenberg es un aclamado cineasta, reconocido como uno de los principales creadores del género de terror corporal. Su obra profundiza en los miedos humanos a la transformación e infección corporal, donde lo psicológico se entrelaza inextricablemente con lo físico. A lo largo de su carrera, ha navegado magistralmente por motivos de terror y ciencia ficción, explorando a menudo los aspectos más oscuros del deseo humano y la forma corporal. Su novela debut, Consumed, se basa en temas inquietantes similares que definen su filmografía visualmente cautivadora.






- 2014
- 2014
Consumed. Verzehrt, English Edition
- 284 páginas
- 10 horas de lectura
The story of two journalists whose entanglement in a French philosopher's death becomes a surreal journey into global conspiracy.
- 2014
Consumed
- 358 páginas
- 13 horas de lectura
The story of two journalists whose entanglement in a French philosopher's death becomes a surreal journey into global conspiracy.
- 1997
Cronenberg on Cronenberg
- 256 páginas
- 9 horas de lectura
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?