RED AS BLOOD

RED AS BLOOD by Tanith Lee. DAW, $2.50. The morbid smirk of the stereotyped fantasy damsel on the Michael Whelan cover of this book personifies fantasy's new decadence. Lee's talent has always threatened to overwhelm the narrow limits of her innumerable cape-and-thick-ankles bodice-busters, and this time she has the bit between her teeth and takes off for parts unknown.

She has returned to fantasy's roots -- the 4/4 beat of Grimm's fairy tales -- and ripped it up in a way that Ramones fans might find eerily familiar. This is a very punk book -- all red and black -- and it has some of the end-of-the-world energy of a '77 Pistols gig. These stories are TWISTED -- tales of bloodlust, sexual frustration, schoolgirl nastiness, world-devouring ennui, and a detailed obsession with Satanism that truly makes one wonder.

Casual readers may find some of these stories dense and opaque. Lee's prose has a cryptic, involuted quality, which creates the impression that she is hinting at matters too blasphemous to speak of openly. It's a peculiar style, alternately annoying and frightening.

Some of this apparent awkwardness is the result of a refusal to compromise. It is the sign of an artist struggling to explian her visions in what amounts to a private dialect. Even the failures are a left-handed tribute to her integrity. She is uniquely gifted.

If you are the kind of fan who wants to have a dragon for a friend and loves small furry animals, stay away from this book, because you might die from it.