I understand why Clive Barker is the benchmark most frequently pointed at to define splatterpunk. These stories embody that ethos and is absolutely splatter and absolutely punk. I think "Fuck art, let's kill!" is the anthem of splatterpunk, and this collection wears that like a tailor-made skin-suit. 
 Clive Barker seems to really like a wide cast of characters and a significant number of POV shifts. It feels like some of these would be stronger without the POV of the monster, especially when they are particularly inhuman. If you want to dip in your toe, read Volume 1. If you enjoy everything there, keep going. If not, you can proceed with the knowledge that you have made a fair attempt. 
 "The Book of Blood" is a nice introductory frame story with dangling meat hooks, from which every other story hangs. 
 "The Midnight Meat Train" is a deeply unsettling love letter to the grungy New York City of yesteryear. When NYC makes an appearance in any story, it must also be a character, and the one it plays here is unpleasant. "In the Hills, the Cities" is a masterpiece of discomfort and disquiet of the Eastern Bloc during the cold war. I love this story, not least because it had that lightning strike moment where I realized NIN borrowed a line from this story: "I hate the smell of old churches, stale incense, old sweat, and lies." There's a lot in this story to dig into including metaphorical living cities, the ephemerality of relationships, and the titan lurking in the hills waiting to rise up and destroy the world. These two stories make the collection worth hunting down. 
 "Sex, Death and Starshine" finds the arty end of splatter and has a rather nice metaphor for creative impulses buried inside. I was not prepared for "The Yattering and Jack" which felt something of a dark comedy response to The Screwtape Letters. I loved the characters in "Pig Blood Blues" but I'm not sure it quite navigated that line between discomfort and bizarro for me.