“The
truth is that we all need to create a narrative, a narrative stuffed full of
lies, because otherwise the suffering would be too much, otherwise we would
recognize the futility of life and the folly of our aims.” –The Blade This Time
Have
you ever imagined what it must be like to rate and review one of the great Holy
books? How does a mere mortal weigh in on the creation and content of something
drafted by great minds that are clearly other worldly? How could you find the
proper words to share the importance and awe-inspiring feelings a book like
this illicit in you? I don’t want to seem sacrilegious comparing any book to
the Holy books of major religions, but I find myself in this unenviable spot
when trying to review Jon Bassoff’s new release, The Blade This Time. This book
is a blue print on a mind slipping further into the depths of insanity,
obsession, and immortality. In other words, this book is now a holy book in my
library of depraved and dark fiction.
I
am not a big fan of writing a plot synopsis for the books I read. Hell, head
over to Goodreads or Amazon for those. I prefer to share the thoughts and
feelings books bring to mind as I read them. By doing this, I hope to can get
at least a few people to decide to dive into the many great books I get the
chance to read. This masterpiece by Bassoff defies the ability to be summed up
in a quick recap anyway. His plotting is masterful, yet simplistic. What the
hell, I will try to provide a succinct recap for ya: A bat-shit crazy man
emerges from the bowels of the city and takes over the life of another bat-shit
crazy man who happens to be an obsessed artist. This psychotic man finds
himself compulsively obsessed with his new neighbor and spirals deeper into the
recesses and dark corners of his decayed mind.
What
Bassoff does so well in this book (and all his books), is paint a picture and
feeling of morbid, decayed paranoia that has the reader looking over their own
shoulder and questioning how any character could lose touch with reality in
this manner, and for that matter, how could any sane man put pen to paper and
produce this work of art without being off their meds for a while. Bassoff
brings to mind Stephen King’s masterpiece, The Shining, in his ability to pen a
book that chronicle a mind’s descent into madness. Before this book I always
stated my belief Bassoff rivaled King’s early work, dare I say with this book,
he has surpassed it. Bassoff’s library demonstrates an ability to suck you into
a world you don’t want to image exists, but his ability to bring it to life
leaves you will the knowledge it must exist, it’s too real not to.
Bassoff
is my favorite writer producing books today. He deserves a wide audience who
can bask in his brilliance and celebrate him for his genius, yet still be smart
enough to cross the street if they see him approaching in the twilight hours.
Any man who can write this dark shit must be a man to avoid. In his own written
words, “We hear all the time how writing violent stories…can be an outlet and
can prevent actual destruction from taking place”. Just to be safe would keep
an eye out for, and on, Bassoff.
This
books gets my highest recommendations.
