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The Call of the Void
In this 21st century pastiche to Dante’s Inferno, the author of God’s Unwanted Child puts the reader in the driver’s seat of a surreal, oneiric vision about the changing nature of American society, and those who reject it.
After a successful, albeit bleak, education in academia, Sam Killian—now Doctor Killian—has accepted a tenured position at UCLA’s Department of Philosophy. The only problem is things aren’t what they used to be. His students, now in an open mutiny against Killian, talk through class, use their cell phones constantly, and mock Sam at every turn, all with impunity. Feeling like an abject Kafka character, Sam turns to the bottle in a desperate struggle to find some form of escapism. Weathering the constant invective storm of his class, Sam finally snaps one day while on a 48-hour cocaine fueled liquor binge and levels his graduate students with an enigmatic, indecipherable, philippic that puts him on paid leave. The resulting fallout puts him in the midst of an all-out, nationwide, viral opprobrium. The university’s provost takes mercy on Sam and stipulates a psychiatric evaluation for his reinstatement with the school’s own psychologist. Convinced Sam is a pedantic philosophaster that has unwisely distanced himself from people, he accepts the terms of Sam’s reinstatement under one condition—Sam must spend one night walking the streets of LA.
Whether traversing LA’s sordid Red-Light District, consorting with a band of virtuous, renegade pariahs that follow Sam through each chapter committing ritual suicide, or fighting off unsavory characters at Target on Black Friday, Killian has 12 hours to complete his arduous task.
Part philosophical peregrination, part jeremiad on the decadence of Western Civilization, The Call of the Void is a starkly explicit reminder of the seedy world that rests just beneath our own.
After a successful, albeit bleak, education in academia, Sam Killian—now Doctor Killian—has accepted a tenured position at UCLA’s Department of Philosophy. The only problem is things aren’t what they used to be. His students, now in an open mutiny against Killian, talk through class, use their cell phones constantly, and mock Sam at every turn, all with impunity. Feeling like an abject Kafka character, Sam turns to the bottle in a desperate struggle to find some form of escapism. Weathering the constant invective storm of his class, Sam finally snaps one day while on a 48-hour cocaine fueled liquor binge and levels his graduate students with an enigmatic, indecipherable, philippic that puts him on paid leave. The resulting fallout puts him in the midst of an all-out, nationwide, viral opprobrium. The university’s provost takes mercy on Sam and stipulates a psychiatric evaluation for his reinstatement with the school’s own psychologist. Convinced Sam is a pedantic philosophaster that has unwisely distanced himself from people, he accepts the terms of Sam’s reinstatement under one condition—Sam must spend one night walking the streets of LA.
Whether traversing LA’s sordid Red-Light District, consorting with a band of virtuous, renegade pariahs that follow Sam through each chapter committing ritual suicide, or fighting off unsavory characters at Target on Black Friday, Killian has 12 hours to complete his arduous task.
Part philosophical peregrination, part jeremiad on the decadence of Western Civilization, The Call of the Void is a starkly explicit reminder of the seedy world that rests just beneath our own.
- GenresFictionDark Academia
482 pages, Paperback
Published June 8, 2022
2 people are currently reading
509 people want to read
About the author
Reece LeResche
3Ìýbooks21ÌýfollowersReece Davis LeResche is an American author born in 1989. Raised by his mother on the fringes of Tucson, AZ, LeResche developed a love for reading at a young age. Throughout High School and College, he worked several menial jobs to support himself and his family while writing in his spare time. In college, he majored in English Literature and became a High School English teacher soon after. Though his work as a teacher has been edifying, LeResche feverishly pursued his love of writing. Reece's works focus on the darker side of the human experience and are patented with an emphasis on alcoholism, guilt, existentialism, choice, depravity, and death. He is currently in the process of publishing his second novel and a book of short stories.
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
August 20, 2022
I’ll cut right to the quick here; this book is a wild read. The first few chapters took me longer than I expected, but after getting in the rhythm of the narrative, it went quick. Its 450+ pages, and the narrative is smooth, despite its information overload. But its engaging, and the story is just thrilling enough to make it a page turner.
The parallel to Dante’s Inferno is well done. The author doesn’t make it a direct, modern retelling as much as he does analogize the story. A chapter for each circle, each chapter revolving around its contemporary iniquity, so on and so forth. But as someone mentioned already, its replete with recondite metaphors and can be overly literary, while still dwelling on the roguish characteristics of the seamy affairs of LA. But that’s also where it lost a star for me. It can be a bit self-indulgent. Seriously, the guy went mental with the automatic writing and psychography, especially during the journal entries Yes, I understand it’s a trait of surrealism and that Dr. Felix wants Sam (our narrator) to create a ‘Rorschach Diary�, but still.
Though there’s plenty of absurdly hilarious and surreally nightmarish action, the book is not as action driven as it is philosophically driven. Its definitely a thinking book, whether it seems that way or not. Actually, given his job, the narration would have you believe its delving deep into philosophy, but I think there was a lot more psychology between the pages. From Jung (who I am unfamiliar with) to Freud’s concepts of id, ego and super ego, representative in the denizens of LA by chapter, the book deals more with the analysis of desideratum in regard to Western decay than mere philosophy.
The book’s secondary title is, ‘A Midnight Fugue in the Twilight of the West�. If you want an idea of the novel’s narrative pace, fugue is apt. In fact, ‘fugue� is a word that fits this novel to a tee. The protagonist (anti-protagonist?) is literally fleeing from his own identity, in a perpetual state of questioning himself and his accolades. Fugue; a state of broken consciousness during a period of wandering, wherein one attempts to create a new identity. A psychotic disorder involving memory loss, confusion, hallucinations, and travel. A literal flight from reason.
And that’s what made this book really cool. It’s obviously supposed to blur the lines of dream and reality. But it doesn’t do so in the same fleeting manner that most dreamlike books do, wherein the narrative is terse, hopping from one wild, unbelievable event to the next. All the details are clear and crisp, told through an entirely cogent lens, even though the narrator is clearly dealing with some kind of nervous breakdown. And in that vividness, the scenes are absurd, but never so absurd that we question them as supernatural. They are simply fantastical, and just inside the realm of plausibility.
There are a few ten-dollar words, and even more five dollar words, but if you can push past that and some of the academic language, the books is incredibly entertaining and even morally instructive. At least, I thought so. Would definitely recommend!
The parallel to Dante’s Inferno is well done. The author doesn’t make it a direct, modern retelling as much as he does analogize the story. A chapter for each circle, each chapter revolving around its contemporary iniquity, so on and so forth. But as someone mentioned already, its replete with recondite metaphors and can be overly literary, while still dwelling on the roguish characteristics of the seamy affairs of LA. But that’s also where it lost a star for me. It can be a bit self-indulgent. Seriously, the guy went mental with the automatic writing and psychography, especially during the journal entries Yes, I understand it’s a trait of surrealism and that Dr. Felix wants Sam (our narrator) to create a ‘Rorschach Diary�, but still.
Though there’s plenty of absurdly hilarious and surreally nightmarish action, the book is not as action driven as it is philosophically driven. Its definitely a thinking book, whether it seems that way or not. Actually, given his job, the narration would have you believe its delving deep into philosophy, but I think there was a lot more psychology between the pages. From Jung (who I am unfamiliar with) to Freud’s concepts of id, ego and super ego, representative in the denizens of LA by chapter, the book deals more with the analysis of desideratum in regard to Western decay than mere philosophy.
The book’s secondary title is, ‘A Midnight Fugue in the Twilight of the West�. If you want an idea of the novel’s narrative pace, fugue is apt. In fact, ‘fugue� is a word that fits this novel to a tee. The protagonist (anti-protagonist?) is literally fleeing from his own identity, in a perpetual state of questioning himself and his accolades. Fugue; a state of broken consciousness during a period of wandering, wherein one attempts to create a new identity. A psychotic disorder involving memory loss, confusion, hallucinations, and travel. A literal flight from reason.
And that’s what made this book really cool. It’s obviously supposed to blur the lines of dream and reality. But it doesn’t do so in the same fleeting manner that most dreamlike books do, wherein the narrative is terse, hopping from one wild, unbelievable event to the next. All the details are clear and crisp, told through an entirely cogent lens, even though the narrator is clearly dealing with some kind of nervous breakdown. And in that vividness, the scenes are absurd, but never so absurd that we question them as supernatural. They are simply fantastical, and just inside the realm of plausibility.
There are a few ten-dollar words, and even more five dollar words, but if you can push past that and some of the academic language, the books is incredibly entertaining and even morally instructive. At least, I thought so. Would definitely recommend!
July 30, 2022
What a verbose raconteur
3.5 stars verging on 4.
The story is set in modern day Los Angeles. The longest chapters, of the 10, are the first and last, bookending a series of lurid encounters with reprobates around LA. It starts with an intro from Sam Killian who, despite his nagging imposter syndrome and age (28), makes a name for himself in academia, albeit uncannily, much to his surprise. Fast forward to his career as a professor and he's beginning to lose his mind with how much human nature (entropy, as he calls it), specifically his students' behavior, has changed in so few years.
Long story short, he freaks out one day in class, while drunk and making almost no sense, and lays into his students, which they post online, making Sam the media's next target. The school makes him go on a little 'healing, walking retreat' in order to show growth for his job and reconnect with mankind. Cue the next chapter and Killian is carousing through the underbelly of LA, preaching his disgust through rambling notebook pages.
I don't want to dive into the whole thing, but I will say what this book does right. It seems to be contrived from the start; he's the youngest tenured philosophy professor at UCLA, he's getting all of these laurels and writing gigs, etc. But then, that's exactly where the paranoia sets in. Mixed with his previous anxiety about his imposter syndrome, Killian begins to feel watched, as though everything in his life has fallen into his lap undeservedly. And maybe it has. Or maybe it hasn't. When the book wraps up on Chapter 10, there are some great themes on fate, free will, human nature, and truth that are mined in detail, adding light to the book and Killian's seemingly impossible success.
I liked this book. I really did.
Here's the thing, this novel is not for everybody. There are obscure references, academic and literary vocabulary, and quasi-philosophical dialogues that border on the rambling; many of which I had to look up. A healthy knowledge of Nietzsche, Freud, Jung, and the Inferno might make reading a little easier, but it isn't necessary. There were also probably a few things that should have stayed in the authors head *gag*. Though it is interesting, it's nearly 500 pages and the last chapter is nigh 100, so it took a while to get through. But it is rewarding; in that, I was able to take a breath after a marathon kind of way. The whole using Dante's as a frame for the story was really interesting. And with prose like the author is on his tenth cup of coffee in the last hour and mythological metaphors as if he were on his third read through of Ovid's 'Metamorphoses', LeResche's metaphorical exemplum (see, I can use big words to) is a page-turner. The happenings and run-ins with unsavory characters and areas are funny, tragic, head-scratching and only add to the books readability.
Just try not to get to bogged down with the long-winded details, pages of journal entries, and Level 'Z' vocabulary.
3.5 stars verging on 4.
The story is set in modern day Los Angeles. The longest chapters, of the 10, are the first and last, bookending a series of lurid encounters with reprobates around LA. It starts with an intro from Sam Killian who, despite his nagging imposter syndrome and age (28), makes a name for himself in academia, albeit uncannily, much to his surprise. Fast forward to his career as a professor and he's beginning to lose his mind with how much human nature (entropy, as he calls it), specifically his students' behavior, has changed in so few years.
Long story short, he freaks out one day in class, while drunk and making almost no sense, and lays into his students, which they post online, making Sam the media's next target. The school makes him go on a little 'healing, walking retreat' in order to show growth for his job and reconnect with mankind. Cue the next chapter and Killian is carousing through the underbelly of LA, preaching his disgust through rambling notebook pages.
I don't want to dive into the whole thing, but I will say what this book does right. It seems to be contrived from the start; he's the youngest tenured philosophy professor at UCLA, he's getting all of these laurels and writing gigs, etc. But then, that's exactly where the paranoia sets in. Mixed with his previous anxiety about his imposter syndrome, Killian begins to feel watched, as though everything in his life has fallen into his lap undeservedly. And maybe it has. Or maybe it hasn't. When the book wraps up on Chapter 10, there are some great themes on fate, free will, human nature, and truth that are mined in detail, adding light to the book and Killian's seemingly impossible success.
I liked this book. I really did.
Here's the thing, this novel is not for everybody. There are obscure references, academic and literary vocabulary, and quasi-philosophical dialogues that border on the rambling; many of which I had to look up. A healthy knowledge of Nietzsche, Freud, Jung, and the Inferno might make reading a little easier, but it isn't necessary. There were also probably a few things that should have stayed in the authors head *gag*. Though it is interesting, it's nearly 500 pages and the last chapter is nigh 100, so it took a while to get through. But it is rewarding; in that, I was able to take a breath after a marathon kind of way. The whole using Dante's as a frame for the story was really interesting. And with prose like the author is on his tenth cup of coffee in the last hour and mythological metaphors as if he were on his third read through of Ovid's 'Metamorphoses', LeResche's metaphorical exemplum (see, I can use big words to) is a page-turner. The happenings and run-ins with unsavory characters and areas are funny, tragic, head-scratching and only add to the books readability.
Just try not to get to bogged down with the long-winded details, pages of journal entries, and Level 'Z' vocabulary.
December 13, 2022
Dr. Killian or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Collapse of Western Society
Pretty raw, both in content and prose, but man can this novel sing from time to time. Other reviews have mentioned that they ‘don’t even know what’s going on�, but it’s pretty accessible and I think the author is actually over the top in his descriptions. It’s more the pacing that might throw you off, as if each page is another irregular heartbeat, slow and fast, before the inevitable heart attack at the end. Not to mention the obvious anger speckled across the pages; it’s palpable.
A line from the ending chapter goes, “What is it I’ve told you tonight that’s left you confused about the Truth?�
…e±¹±ð°ù²â³Ù³ó¾±²Ô²µ
Here's the thing: the last chapter is easily the most confusing, and perhaps that’s the point given its revolving theme on the post-truth world we live in (i.e. a confusing explanation that’s meant to typify our confusing world in late stage post-internet capitalism). It’s a dialogue in which the reader and protagonist are given some tenuous grasp on what’s happened in the story and in the world, a conspiracy that the protagonist Sam Killian was at the center of the entire time, a conspiracy that posits that even mainstream conspiracies are conspiracies and contrived for the benefit (or relief) of the common man—namely that the aristocracy is constantly tricking the great unwashed with the material world; hardly a new concept, I know, but definitely one that get an update here for our contemporary times. It’s nigh 100 pages and gets a little hard to follow since it leaves gaps for the reader to fill in with their imagination and deductive reasoning, but the parts I did pick up were very intriguing. As evidenced in the subtitle “A midnight fugue in the twilight of the west", this book is something of a precursor (or warning?) to a collapse that seems both eminent and inevitable in the 21st century. It’s like one of those old non-fiction theory books, which I’m sure the author has read plenty of, where they tell the reader all aspects of society that are rotten and will lead to its collapse, only to leave you sitting there, reading 10 other books to get the point, and then, ultimately, unsatisfied. And that is where the book falls apart a bit—the constant lecturing. I have to give due credit here though; at nearly 100 pages, it was well thought out, albeit abstruse.
Yes, indeed, in these many pages, one will find a profligacy of logorrhea, which will either turn you on or off of the book. But the story is incredibly interesting, and it strikes a harmonious balance between comical, tragic, and weird.
And for that, I did like it.
3/5
Pretty raw, both in content and prose, but man can this novel sing from time to time. Other reviews have mentioned that they ‘don’t even know what’s going on�, but it’s pretty accessible and I think the author is actually over the top in his descriptions. It’s more the pacing that might throw you off, as if each page is another irregular heartbeat, slow and fast, before the inevitable heart attack at the end. Not to mention the obvious anger speckled across the pages; it’s palpable.
A line from the ending chapter goes, “What is it I’ve told you tonight that’s left you confused about the Truth?�
…e±¹±ð°ù²â³Ù³ó¾±²Ô²µ
Here's the thing: the last chapter is easily the most confusing, and perhaps that’s the point given its revolving theme on the post-truth world we live in (i.e. a confusing explanation that’s meant to typify our confusing world in late stage post-internet capitalism). It’s a dialogue in which the reader and protagonist are given some tenuous grasp on what’s happened in the story and in the world, a conspiracy that the protagonist Sam Killian was at the center of the entire time, a conspiracy that posits that even mainstream conspiracies are conspiracies and contrived for the benefit (or relief) of the common man—namely that the aristocracy is constantly tricking the great unwashed with the material world; hardly a new concept, I know, but definitely one that get an update here for our contemporary times. It’s nigh 100 pages and gets a little hard to follow since it leaves gaps for the reader to fill in with their imagination and deductive reasoning, but the parts I did pick up were very intriguing. As evidenced in the subtitle “A midnight fugue in the twilight of the west", this book is something of a precursor (or warning?) to a collapse that seems both eminent and inevitable in the 21st century. It’s like one of those old non-fiction theory books, which I’m sure the author has read plenty of, where they tell the reader all aspects of society that are rotten and will lead to its collapse, only to leave you sitting there, reading 10 other books to get the point, and then, ultimately, unsatisfied. And that is where the book falls apart a bit—the constant lecturing. I have to give due credit here though; at nearly 100 pages, it was well thought out, albeit abstruse.
Yes, indeed, in these many pages, one will find a profligacy of logorrhea, which will either turn you on or off of the book. But the story is incredibly interesting, and it strikes a harmonious balance between comical, tragic, and weird.
And for that, I did like it.
3/5
October 14, 2022
Over the past few years, I’ve noticed that as society grows more and more alienated from one another, the more skepticism in our future we have. It seems like the more the days pass, the more the concept of societal collapse is brought up.
It’s going to be hard to find any middle ground on this book. You’re either going to be confused by the dense, erratic story and indulgent prose, bored to tears by the first 100 pages, or hooked from jump street. It’s far more literary than anything else, and it does take a while to get into and set up the narrative, but if you can make it through some relevant biographical info on the main character, you’re in for a ride.
The narrative is linear, yet disjointed, and works majorly on the dream/surreal level, demonstrating the world at night that we turn away from during the day (metaphorically and literally). If your familiar at all with Ishiguro’s works, I got major The Unconsoled vibes here, but with a far more caustic, snarky and opinionated narrator.
Each chapter, architected around a circle of Dante’s Inferno and using downtown LA as its model, was an experience. Something new. The second to last chapter, while it threw me off during the library scene, where the media room doubles as an arcade/carnival (distraction) was utterly hilarious and yet chillingly poignant. Each scene with the televangelists was on the nose. The chapter with Princess was wildly surreal, yet strangely touching and sad. The lust chapter was again surreal, but highly jarring and philosophical, looking at our base desires and where they come from.
The book has a lot to unpack with regards to mythology, philosophy, psychology, and social science. Its rife with allusions, and there is a lot more on the literal and metaphorical level than you’re led to believe. A cigar is not just a cigar in this book.
One thing I keep coming back to after finishing the book is just how relevant minute details are. For example, a brief description of “Escape from LA� in which Kurt Russel types in 666 into the weapon system. Those familiar with the allusion the book is making on a large scale to the Inferno might think it a cute reference to hell, Satan, etc. However, it has larger implications when you look at the scene as a whole, which is about (*minor spoiler*) the restart of mankind against the behest of a group of elites. By the way, the last cigarette Snake smokes? An American Spirit; Sam’s preferred brand.
But what I want to focus on for this review is the ending, which deals with the natural order of societal collapse (a theme present at every turn in the novel) and the concept of Fate.
Spoilers Ahead
In the final chapter, LeResche creates a boogeyman in a clandestine oligarchy to represent the concept of Fate. The concepts of “Chaos equals Free Will� and “Power/Order equals Fate/Determinism� are mined heavily throughout the book, using the Recusant as its conduit. In fact, the main antagonist (?) mentions that he is the very ‘strings of fate�. How so? Influence.
The final chapter is set up as a dialogue between the protagonist, Sam, and the story’s main antagonist. The antagonist, O’Brien (alluding to 1984 and Winston and O’Brien’s dialogue), a member of an ancient cult that worships the goddess Fortuna, leads Sam to believe that his ouster was possibly manufactured to bring him there that night. As the theme of Fate always reveals, characters are almost always led by pressure, influence, and/or escapism. So too is Sam.
O’Brien goes on to explain the failing American memory of previous empires, believing itself to be supreme while still being so young in Western Civilization. Every empire has collapsed, and it is a product of Fortuna, so that they may make society better, however small of a time frame that might be. Broadly, America’s time is coming, and Fate has its number.
The discourse in the final chapter is very intricate, almost spanning 100 pages of dialogue alone, and is certainly inspired by Glubb’s The Fate of Empires (notice Fate) but transforms it into a more contemporaneous narrative which focuses on the ruling class’s manipulation of society for the ends of power. It describes how influence, whether economic where capitalism would influence our rights through funds and thusly lead to communism which hinders our rights through sheer authoritarian will, affects us. O’Brien goes on to explain how people in general, after a span of artificial prosperity, growth, and finally decline, abandon their sense of purpose in life (i.e. spirituality, intellect, reason) and pursue more meretricious interests (i.e. social media, phony outrage), only to fulfill their own destiny of collapse. Education, politics, social media, money, truth, technocracy, and even dissent are all topics covered here in some detail. It also focuses on the lack of society's dialectic, and how that lack of synthesis is damaging to us at large.
One of my favorite conspiracies at the end? That dissent is manufactured, and the truth is allowed to be told by a small percentage of historians, artists, and authors (even a few video games) so long as it’s seen through the lens of fiction, giving the people a sense of reasonable doubt.
I won’t go any further and spoil more of the end, but if you can stomach 80+ pages of prescient and very relevant dialogue on the very possible (!) collapse of America, and Western Society, this is very much a book to read.
Keep an eye out for the moon�
It’s going to be hard to find any middle ground on this book. You’re either going to be confused by the dense, erratic story and indulgent prose, bored to tears by the first 100 pages, or hooked from jump street. It’s far more literary than anything else, and it does take a while to get into and set up the narrative, but if you can make it through some relevant biographical info on the main character, you’re in for a ride.
The narrative is linear, yet disjointed, and works majorly on the dream/surreal level, demonstrating the world at night that we turn away from during the day (metaphorically and literally). If your familiar at all with Ishiguro’s works, I got major The Unconsoled vibes here, but with a far more caustic, snarky and opinionated narrator.
Each chapter, architected around a circle of Dante’s Inferno and using downtown LA as its model, was an experience. Something new. The second to last chapter, while it threw me off during the library scene, where the media room doubles as an arcade/carnival (distraction) was utterly hilarious and yet chillingly poignant. Each scene with the televangelists was on the nose. The chapter with Princess was wildly surreal, yet strangely touching and sad. The lust chapter was again surreal, but highly jarring and philosophical, looking at our base desires and where they come from.
The book has a lot to unpack with regards to mythology, philosophy, psychology, and social science. Its rife with allusions, and there is a lot more on the literal and metaphorical level than you’re led to believe. A cigar is not just a cigar in this book.
One thing I keep coming back to after finishing the book is just how relevant minute details are. For example, a brief description of “Escape from LA� in which Kurt Russel types in 666 into the weapon system. Those familiar with the allusion the book is making on a large scale to the Inferno might think it a cute reference to hell, Satan, etc. However, it has larger implications when you look at the scene as a whole, which is about (*minor spoiler*) the restart of mankind against the behest of a group of elites. By the way, the last cigarette Snake smokes? An American Spirit; Sam’s preferred brand.
But what I want to focus on for this review is the ending, which deals with the natural order of societal collapse (a theme present at every turn in the novel) and the concept of Fate.
Spoilers Ahead
In the final chapter, LeResche creates a boogeyman in a clandestine oligarchy to represent the concept of Fate. The concepts of “Chaos equals Free Will� and “Power/Order equals Fate/Determinism� are mined heavily throughout the book, using the Recusant as its conduit. In fact, the main antagonist (?) mentions that he is the very ‘strings of fate�. How so? Influence.
The final chapter is set up as a dialogue between the protagonist, Sam, and the story’s main antagonist. The antagonist, O’Brien (alluding to 1984 and Winston and O’Brien’s dialogue), a member of an ancient cult that worships the goddess Fortuna, leads Sam to believe that his ouster was possibly manufactured to bring him there that night. As the theme of Fate always reveals, characters are almost always led by pressure, influence, and/or escapism. So too is Sam.
O’Brien goes on to explain the failing American memory of previous empires, believing itself to be supreme while still being so young in Western Civilization. Every empire has collapsed, and it is a product of Fortuna, so that they may make society better, however small of a time frame that might be. Broadly, America’s time is coming, and Fate has its number.
The discourse in the final chapter is very intricate, almost spanning 100 pages of dialogue alone, and is certainly inspired by Glubb’s The Fate of Empires (notice Fate) but transforms it into a more contemporaneous narrative which focuses on the ruling class’s manipulation of society for the ends of power. It describes how influence, whether economic where capitalism would influence our rights through funds and thusly lead to communism which hinders our rights through sheer authoritarian will, affects us. O’Brien goes on to explain how people in general, after a span of artificial prosperity, growth, and finally decline, abandon their sense of purpose in life (i.e. spirituality, intellect, reason) and pursue more meretricious interests (i.e. social media, phony outrage), only to fulfill their own destiny of collapse. Education, politics, social media, money, truth, technocracy, and even dissent are all topics covered here in some detail. It also focuses on the lack of society's dialectic, and how that lack of synthesis is damaging to us at large.
One of my favorite conspiracies at the end? That dissent is manufactured, and the truth is allowed to be told by a small percentage of historians, artists, and authors (even a few video games) so long as it’s seen through the lens of fiction, giving the people a sense of reasonable doubt.
I won’t go any further and spoil more of the end, but if you can stomach 80+ pages of prescient and very relevant dialogue on the very possible (!) collapse of America, and Western Society, this is very much a book to read.
Keep an eye out for the moon�
January 12, 2023
"Death, and Dreams."
Many reviews have pointed out the concept of social entropy and societal collapse, but what many here have failed to bring up is the most mentioned concepts in the novel: Jungian psychology and fate. Namely his theory of the unconscious influencing the conscious to make us believe there actually is a system of pre-determinism (i.e. fate). The equation is quite pernicious, but also quite intriguing: Everything in our world is run by a system of capital that promulgates you with advertisements that may or may not affect you, but definitely affect the majority around you; these advertisements (and distracting technologies that have no real purpose other than diverting your attention with entertainment) over time slowly erode your consciousness and subtly infiltrate your subconscious, leading to progress, leading to your unconscious mind making capitulations that your conscious mind then parrots through your pie hole, thusly penetrating the subconscious of another. (Gasps, takes deep breath)
One Note for future readers of this hidden gem:
While the novel doesn't lack structure per se, it is certainly unique, changing narrative direction from page to page. There are quite a few drunken journal entries, there is a consciousness eliminating psychedelic experience, a flashback, a dream, a sequence of seemingly unreal yet plausible situations. Something to consider before reading, anyway.
The narrator—full of himself; pretentious; quasi-philosophaster that waxes poetic far too frequently—is constantly battling with his own ego. He is certain he has Imposter Syndrome, yet he refuses to to come to terms with his fraudulence, constantly being a subjective observer who comments on his observations with absolute certainty. Ironically, each of the ‘layers of hell� here are the shadow reflection of what the narrator hates in himself (e.g. the peccadilloes in the lust circle are criticized severely, while earlier in his bio his own lust seems unrestrained and immoral, although it’s obvious he had been conditioned from a previous influence, bringing the whole thing full circle)
But while Dr. Killian admonishes those around him for doing what he has actively repressed (disgusted at the gluttons of the American diner, while he himself surfeits on alcohol and gambling; castigating the pretentiousness of the twin brothers, while using archaic language and theories himself to justify his own short comings; comparing the Black Friday malevolent force to animals, while he himself has a haughty arrogance and anger akin to some predatory animal that he openly uses to curse the plebs below him), a trait Dr Felix exposes to him which he does not like, he begins exhibiting behavior to the contrary, and by the final chapter, he is a broken man, wondering what part of himself is real and what part is the influence others have had on him; the ultimate test for his shadow being when O’Brien offers him power (a typical Faustian bargain with a twist).
In the final chapter, Kantian freedom (specifically heteronomous) is explored, using America as the petri dish for the worst of these examples. The concept is explored with the help of an oligarchical éminence grise who goes on to discuss the three tenets of psychological subjugation that has left the lower and middle class in a hellish peonage, one in which the concepts of fate, motivation theory, and social learning theory are all contorted into a paradoxical system of control.
Ironically enough, while the novel is a jeremiad lamenting the crumbling pillars of Western Society (see subtitle: A Midnight Fugue in the Twilight of the West) it has the typical frame narrative of a surreal eastern novel, one which thrusts the audience into an absurd situation and moves forward without any regard for cohesion.
In a final word on the novel, the book cover, both front and back—which speaks VOLUMES to its central message—is telling of the novel’s direction and deeper meaning. Schneider’s ‘Hypnosis�, which invokes the god of sleep, shows a powerful influential beam projected onto an unwitting and powerless man, a hand of a secret and controlling force grasping him in place of the page, while the back cover invokes the more conscious (awake) aspect of society’s collapse while all those around laugh at its demise.
Sit back and enjoy the demimonde that is Los Angeles, as told by the wretched mind of one Doctor Sam Killian.
And always remember:
"Don't trust your vision; trust your mind."
Many reviews have pointed out the concept of social entropy and societal collapse, but what many here have failed to bring up is the most mentioned concepts in the novel: Jungian psychology and fate. Namely his theory of the unconscious influencing the conscious to make us believe there actually is a system of pre-determinism (i.e. fate). The equation is quite pernicious, but also quite intriguing: Everything in our world is run by a system of capital that promulgates you with advertisements that may or may not affect you, but definitely affect the majority around you; these advertisements (and distracting technologies that have no real purpose other than diverting your attention with entertainment) over time slowly erode your consciousness and subtly infiltrate your subconscious, leading to progress, leading to your unconscious mind making capitulations that your conscious mind then parrots through your pie hole, thusly penetrating the subconscious of another. (Gasps, takes deep breath)
One Note for future readers of this hidden gem:
While the novel doesn't lack structure per se, it is certainly unique, changing narrative direction from page to page. There are quite a few drunken journal entries, there is a consciousness eliminating psychedelic experience, a flashback, a dream, a sequence of seemingly unreal yet plausible situations. Something to consider before reading, anyway.
The narrator—full of himself; pretentious; quasi-philosophaster that waxes poetic far too frequently—is constantly battling with his own ego. He is certain he has Imposter Syndrome, yet he refuses to to come to terms with his fraudulence, constantly being a subjective observer who comments on his observations with absolute certainty. Ironically, each of the ‘layers of hell� here are the shadow reflection of what the narrator hates in himself (e.g. the peccadilloes in the lust circle are criticized severely, while earlier in his bio his own lust seems unrestrained and immoral, although it’s obvious he had been conditioned from a previous influence, bringing the whole thing full circle)
But while Dr. Killian admonishes those around him for doing what he has actively repressed (disgusted at the gluttons of the American diner, while he himself surfeits on alcohol and gambling; castigating the pretentiousness of the twin brothers, while using archaic language and theories himself to justify his own short comings; comparing the Black Friday malevolent force to animals, while he himself has a haughty arrogance and anger akin to some predatory animal that he openly uses to curse the plebs below him), a trait Dr Felix exposes to him which he does not like, he begins exhibiting behavior to the contrary, and by the final chapter, he is a broken man, wondering what part of himself is real and what part is the influence others have had on him; the ultimate test for his shadow being when O’Brien offers him power (a typical Faustian bargain with a twist).
In the final chapter, Kantian freedom (specifically heteronomous) is explored, using America as the petri dish for the worst of these examples. The concept is explored with the help of an oligarchical éminence grise who goes on to discuss the three tenets of psychological subjugation that has left the lower and middle class in a hellish peonage, one in which the concepts of fate, motivation theory, and social learning theory are all contorted into a paradoxical system of control.
Ironically enough, while the novel is a jeremiad lamenting the crumbling pillars of Western Society (see subtitle: A Midnight Fugue in the Twilight of the West) it has the typical frame narrative of a surreal eastern novel, one which thrusts the audience into an absurd situation and moves forward without any regard for cohesion.
In a final word on the novel, the book cover, both front and back—which speaks VOLUMES to its central message—is telling of the novel’s direction and deeper meaning. Schneider’s ‘Hypnosis�, which invokes the god of sleep, shows a powerful influential beam projected onto an unwitting and powerless man, a hand of a secret and controlling force grasping him in place of the page, while the back cover invokes the more conscious (awake) aspect of society’s collapse while all those around laugh at its demise.
Sit back and enjoy the demimonde that is Los Angeles, as told by the wretched mind of one Doctor Sam Killian.
And always remember:
"Don't trust your vision; trust your mind."
September 6, 2024
Wow, what a wild ride!!!! A very impressive work, I will definitely be following Reeces’s work from here on out. Thank you Reece for getting me out of my recent slump of bad reading picks, you should be very proud of this work. The rhythm and structure of this novel really makes it sing. The descriptiveness is fantastic, and the messages are very clear to the reader from start to finish. I sometimes struggled with some of the high level verbiage, but that is my inferiority showing, and I took notes and added to my lexicon lol.
June 16, 2022
Just when you think you understand where this book is going it takes another turn. The way the author takes you on this journey keeps you completely hooked from the first page to the very last. His philosophical, abstract, and profound revelations will open your mind to the world that we live in. 10/10 would recommend
July 28, 2022
Review Forthcoming.
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