Rosemary's Baby.

Ira Leven's literary output might only extend to just over half a dozen titles but his cultural, as well as literary influence remains vast. His titles alone have become bywords for jarring cultural memes; Dead Eyed Concubines Born To Cook and Clean; Stepford Wives. Horribly Behaved Children Who make Their Parents Blush In Shame For Having Conceived them; Rosemary's Baby. Its dark humour, to be sure, done as whispered asides, yet their origins remain as potent as ever.

               As does the contents of this classic slice of American Gothic. Set among the sprawling brownstones of New York it has over the period of time since it first caused a sensation when published taken on a even more unsettling resonance. If a child of the Devil were to emerge from anywhere why not the luxuriant cloistered community of out of touch with reality socialites. in Christian faith the Son of god had the humblest of origins, always a consideration when faith is tested against mortal standards. 

               I found Rosemary's neighbors, the nosey , inteferring and quite bat shit crazy neightbours Minnie and Roman Castavet to be utterly terrifying. Filled to the brim with queasy old world charm they came across as komodo dragons draped in gingham, sans flickering tongues, nothing so obvious with this demonic pair. They are the head of the witches coven, completely ruthless in their pursuit of a Satanic birth. Always under the radar they also emit dangerous signals more modern readers will pick up on. In a more generous age they could easily pass for what they pretend to be. There are subtle warnings in the text, not easily missed in a post OMEN age but it was a book born and gestated in another era.

              What a shocker it must have been for anyone coming to the book but how even more disturbing must people have found the Roman Polanski directed movie adaption. The career best of a cinema autuer, it grips from the opening panning shot and never really lets go. All excell in their roles with Mia Farrow delivering a luminous portrait of innocence defiled and John Cassavetes delivering a blistering turn as an ambitious young man corrupted by a desire for success.He slyly betrays the trusting and vunerable Rosemary, his soul bought and paid for. Devilishly handsome and unfogiveably vain, he aids in setting in motion what could turn out to be an apocalyptic chain of events. 

               The setting is amazing. That Brownstone building feels like another world. Its inhabitants lost souls. Roman Polanski really delivers a film which has aged well. Its bouquet may now suit the subtlest of paletes, with an almost pleasingly decadent aroma.

               Haunting and surprisingly moving.