Silence of the lambs

Goldberg Variations

Alright lets get right down to it. This is a page about Silence of the lambs which happened to be a great movie as well as a great book. I prefer the book. I also recommend that everyone reads Red Dragon and Hannibal as well. Now a little bit of info on me. I am 15 and I live in pennsylvania and I'm female.

Links
My personal home page
favabeans.com
Views from the Belvedere
Loving Lecter
Silence of the lambs fiction
thomasharris.com
Loving Lecter club on yahoo
Loving Lecter chat room (password required)
silence of the lambs the sequal site

Now the rest of this page will contain things like wavs, the script, a little about the serial killer who inspired Bufflo Bill, and assorted pictures.

SCRIPT

WAVS

lectongue.wav (44k)
Chilton: His pulse never went above 85, even when he ate her tongue.

lechead.wav (27k)
Lecter: Believe me, you don't want Hannibal Lecter inside your head.

lecate.wav (89k)
Starling: Most serial killers keep some sort trophies from their victims.
Lecter: I didn't.
Starling: No... No, you ate yours.

liver.wav (138k)
Lecter: A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver. With some fava beans and a nice chianti

qpguo.wav (33k)
Lecter: Quid pro quo. I tell you things, you tell me things.

rube.wav (528k)
Lecter: You know what you look like to me, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look like a rube. A well scrubbed, hustling rube with a little taste. Good nutrition has given you some length of bone, but you're not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you Agent Starling? And that accent you've tried so desparately to shed? Pure West Virginia. What's your father, dear? Is he a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp? You know how quickly the boys found you... all those tedious sticky fumblings in the back seats of cars...while you could only dream of getting out... getting anywhere... getting all the way to the FBI.
Clarice: You see alot, Doctor.

lamb.wav (450k)
Lecter: What became of your lamb, Clarice?
Clarice: He killed him.
Lecter: You still wake up sometimes, don't you? Wake up in the dark and hear the screaming of the lambs.
Clarice: Yes.
Lecter: And you think if you save poor Katherine, you can make them stop, don't you? You think if Katherine lives, you won't wake up in the dark ever again to that awful screaming of the lambs.
Clarice: I don't know.... I don't know.
Lecter: Thank you, Clarice.

senator.wav (592k)
Lecter: Tell me, Senator. Did you nurse Katherine yourself?
Senator Martin: What?
Lecter: Did you breast feed her?
Aide: Now wait a minute...
Senator Martin: Yes. I did.
Lecter: Toughened your nipples, didn't it?
Aide: You sonofabitch...
Lecter: Amputate a man's leg and he can still feel it tickling. Tell me Mom, when your little girl is on the slab, where will it tickle you?
Senator Martin: Take this "thing" back to Baltimore.
Lecter: Five foot ten, strongly built, about 180 pounds. Hair blonde, eyes pale blue. He'd be about 35 now. He said he lived in Philadelphia but may have lied. That's all I can remember Mom, but if I think of any more I will let you know. Oh, and Senator? Just one more thing...love your suit.

leclambs.wv (54k)
Lecter: Well Clarice, have the lambs stopped screaming?

oldfrnd.wav (111k)
Lecter: I do wish we could chat longer, but I'm having an old friend for dinner. Bye...

THE BUTCHER OF PLAINFIELD ED GEIN
In terms of numbers, Ed Gein was not much of a murderer, as serial killers go. But viewed through the lens of sheer, lunatic atrocity, he was one of the worst. So perverse and horrible were his crimes that they inspired two classic works of film and fiction: The Silence of the Lambs (in which Gein is the prototype for the ghoulish killer Buffalo Bill) and Psycho (as mad mama's boy Norman Bates).
Gein (pronounced "geen") grew up on an isolated farm ouside Plainfield, Wisconsin, in the grip of an alcoholic, abusive father and a domineering mother. Agusta Gein, a woman who had little use for either men or sex, make sure that her sons Ed and Henry avoided temptations of the flesh. Neither son would ever marry. Nevertheless, Gein later recalled his rigid, fanatical mothers as "good in every way."
Between 1940 and 1945, the father, then Henry, and then Augusta died, leaving Ed alone on the desolate farm, which was not even equiped with electircity. He was 39, reclusive, and ill-prepared to live in normal society. He boarded up his mother's bedroom and siting room and never entered them again, preserving them as a shrine to her memory. A government subsidy freed him from farming, and he worked at odd jobs as a handyman and, appallingly, a baby-sitter. He devoted his free time to his psychotic experiments.
Ed Gein at first indulged his long suppressed interest in women's bodies by poring over anatomical textbooks. To check their facts, he visited graveyards, dug up several female corpses and took them home with him for study and clumsy dissection. He found special pleasure in handling the dead wonen's sex organs, but other parts of the bodies intrigued him too. He skinned some of his cadavers and worse the skins around the house, draped over his shoulders. He also kept heads, livers, heards, and intestines scattered about. He later confessed a long-held secret wish to become a woman.
Alone in his hideaway, increasingly mad, Gein took to fashioning scraps of human hide into bracelets, lampshades, and even a coffee-can tom-tom. Sometimes he would dance around his kitchen and yard, naked except for an assortment of ghulish treasures. Neanwhile, the simplest chores went unattended, and rotting garbage and filthy castoff slothing piled up in the corners of his dismal house. To his anatomy textbooks, Gein added horror comics and pornographic magazines.
The time came when corpses stolen from the graveyard were no longer enough. Gein set out to get a fresh one. He killed 54-year-old Mary Hogan one night in 1954 as she was closing the saloon that she owned. For three years Hogan's murder went unsolved.
Then, in 1957, Gein killed his second known victim, Bernice Worden, when he found the 58-year-ld wonam alone in the hardware store sherean with her son. On his way out with the bdy, Gein picked up the store's cash register, but he left behind a sales slip taht the dead woman had started writing out for his purchase. This evidence led police t the reclusive farmer, a man the townspeople considered "odd and shy but harmless."
The sight that greeted officers when they entered Gein's home was hard to accept. There were shrunken heads. There were skulls, some sawed in half for use as krinking cups. There were chair seats a waste paper basket, and a vest and leggings, all fashioned of human skin. A human heart was found in a saucepan on the stove. Police estimated that at least 15 bodies went to make up Gein's grisly collection. Bernice Worden's decapitated, disemboweled body hung upside down in a shed, dressed out like a dead deer's. Authorities identified one of the heads as that of the long missing Mary Hogan.
Gein talked freely about the stolen cadavers and confessed to the murders of Mary Hogan and Bernice Worden. Police suspected him of at least three additional slayings, but he said he had not killed any others. He discussed his mutilations as if commention on the weather. He said he had killed both bictims "while in a daze" and realized lather that both remined him of his mother.
One wee after Bernice Worden's butchered body was discovered, Gein was confined in a state mental hospital, whee he was soon declared criminally insane. Ten years later, he was tried and found guilty of first degree murder but again was declared mentally diseased. He spent the rest of his life institutionalized and died of natural causes in 1984.
Directly taken from Serial Killers time life books

IMAGES