Thomas Tessier

I’m not normally a fan of werewolf stories, but this is a more subtle and psychological story of a man in 1970’s London slowly succumbing to an animalistic madness as he becomes ever more violently aggressive in both behaviour and sexual lust

There’s a lot of ambiguous trails that weave throughout the story which work really well from his early life, leaving the reader guessing to how they connect Bobby Ives’ unravelling condition. What perhaps stands out best is the clever way Tessier ramps up the beast not with classic lycanthrope tropisms, but through acts of rage, through his thoughts, through his postures and through the degradation of lifestyle—at one point reflected in a change in the music he listens to. His descriptions of London also change and darken with his descent into madness, in fact London itself positions itself almost as a supporting character in its own right.

This isn’t a classic or overt story of the wolfman tale and anyone looking for a visually impressive were-beast of lore should look elsewhere. Instead this is a triumph of psychological bestial horror that burrows in deep and does not retract its claws.… (altro)

*Spoilers ahead*

Before picking up this book, I wasn't too familiar with Thomas Tessier. I had read only one of his novels, Rapture (sex-oriented suspense thrillers aren't really my cup of tea, but it showcased the author's ability to make a far-fetched premise seem plausible), as well as "Food," his short story in Douglas E. Winter's Prime Evil anthology. The Fates (1978) was Tessier's first novel, and bears the unmistakable stylistic imprint of its time. This is its most appealing quality; otherwise it's a case of unexplored potential. So much more could have been done with the premise, but Tessier apparently was content for the book to remain sketchy and tentative.

Strange things are happening in the small town of Millville, Connecticut: cars and buildings are destroyed, seemingly at random, and children claim that they are recipients of visitations by the Virgin Mary. These incidents are accompanied by various visual phenomena, but the one most often reported is a mysterious cloud filled with shifting blue flame. People soon begin to turn up dead, horribly mutilated or bludgeoned in their homes with no indication that a human attacker is responsible. An anxious, overworked police chief tries to keep his town safe, a newspaper reporter searches for hard evidence to tie all the bizarre events together, and a young priest is convinced that Millville has been invaded by pure evil. It's a decent basis for a story, but Tessier fails to build on it. The odd manifestations become odder--and more violent--and then The Fates just fizzles without any resolution. No point is made, no explanation put forth.

The obvious influences here are Stephen King's first few books and Arthur Machen's 1917 novel The Terror: A Mystery. Superficially, Tessier duplicates the small-town atmosphere of King's work (cantankerous cops, lecherous schoolteacher, etc.), but there's no depth to the world he has constructed; Millville and its inhabitants are never fleshed out. In The Terror, Machen finally offered an explanation for the frustratingly vague events that had occurred throughout the book; in The Fates, Tessier never gets there. He's a pretty fair writer, but my impression is that his whole heart was not in this novel.… (altro)

Have you ever read a book that you thought you needed to take a shower each time you picked it up? Rapture is one of those books. It's icky. Depressing. Leaves you with a hopeless view of the universe. Everyone is doomed in this book. It's one creep-ass ride to hopeless hell. Hide the razor blades.

Good ol' sociopath Jeff isn't sure what he wants. He is a successful high-tech businessman who never seemed to find the thing that made him happy in life. Pushing forty, with a failed marriage and gobs of dough he goes back east from California to his father's funeral. He just might look up some old friends from twenty years ago as long as he's back in the old stomping grounds, you know. He's a nice guy, just doesn't seem to connect with people and a little obsessive about work and drinking, you know. He's going to look up Georgianne, a girl he never dated but one that was always around, you know. She was okay, but they just never got together and you move away, become successful, you know. Ol' Jeffy doesn't even know himself what he's looking for but he's gonna try hard, real hard, to get it once it latches on to him. You know.

I call this a slippery slope book. Once the protagonist thinks he realizes what he wants, he's already danced too far out on that slippery slope to hang on. He's goin' down, as they say.

I'm not sure if it's intentional or just stupid luck but the dumbed-down narration fools you into thinking there has to be more to this than meets the eye. It's just too matter of fact. But the web gets spun by the shifting POV and the fact that the narration is just so straight forward, there are no hidden agendas, no tricks. Where you think the narrator must be hiding something, he isn't. I thought in the end this was so straight forward that there wasn't going to be any money shot, but Tessier saves it for the last page and then springs it on you.

It's hard to say I was "entertained" by this book. Like some of Patricia Highsmith's writing it is so depressing and the characters just drag you down. To say this book did not have an effect on me however would be lying. At one point I considered just abandoning it after a particularly depressing section because I wasn't doing so well myself.… (altro)