I used to be a terrible glutton when it came to food and drink (especially drink - I was alcoholic) so I’m always sensitive to descriptions of gluttons in literature. I think I’ve found the grandaddy of them all in Spenser’s Faerie Queene.
"And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,
Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne,
His belly was vp-blowne with luxury,
And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne,
And like a Crane his necke was long and fyne,
With which he swallowd vp excessiue feast,
For want whereof poore people oft did pyne;
And all the way, most like a brutish beast,
He spued vp his gorge, that all did him deteast.
In greene vine leaues he was right fitly clad;
For other clothes he could not weare for heat,
And on his head an yuie girland had,
From vnder which fast trickled downe the sweat:
Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat,
And in his hand did beare a bouzing can,
Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat
His dronken corse he scarse vpholden can,
In shape and life more like a monster, then a man.”
Giacometti on the human head.
"The first time that I saw the head I was looking at become fixed, immobilized definitively in a moment in time, I shook with terror as never before in my life and a cold sweat ran down my back. What I was looking at was an object like any other, no, different, not like any other object, but like something which was alive and dead at the same time."
"But at my back in a cold blast I hear
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.”
TS Eliot’s The Wasteland is full of weirdness and fear. The line above is taken from part III of the poem, which is called The Fire Sermon.