The attraction of self-immolation – #ScienceFiction #Philosophy #Review

Blurb

Obsessed with learning the origins of the cosmos, the actual meaning of life, and the true purpose of civilization, a fine Scotsman named Fingal T. Smyth dedicates himself to the study of Plato’s most extraordinary ideas. Convinced of Plato’s belief that humankind possesses any and all innate knowledge deep within the collective unconscious mind, Fingal soon conducts a series of bold, pioneering occult-science experiments by which to resolve the riddle of the universe once and for all. However, Fingal forgets how violent and perilous the animal impulses that reside in the deepest recesses of the unconscious mind. And when Fingal unleashes a mysterious avatar of his innate knowledge, the entity appears as a burning man and immediately seeks to manipulate innocent and unsuspecting people everywhere into immolating themselves. Now, with little hope of returning the fiery figure into his being, Fingal must capture his nemesis before it destroys the world.

Excerpt

Autumn, 1907: late one morning, some kind of torrid, invisible beast seemed to wrap itself all around Fingal T. Smyth’s body. Each one of his toes twitching fiercely, he exited the castle and scanned the distant, Scottish Highlands. Go back where you came from. As the entity wrapped itself tighter all about his person, Fingal blinked back his tears. I’m melting, I am. Aye, it’s the heat of fusion.

Gradually, the beast’s heartbeat became audible—each pulsation. At the same time, too, the illusory heat of transformation emitted an odor as of oven-roasted peppercorns dissolving in a cup of burnt coffee.

Over by the gatehouse, Fräulein Wunderwaffe appeared—the little German girl wearing a plain-sewn robe and square-crown bowler. In that moment, she no longer seemed to be a sickly child of seven years: her inscrutable expression resembled that of a wise, indifferent cat.

Perhaps even some kind of lioness. Fingal cringed, and he recalled a fragment of conversation from three weeks earlier.

“She suffers from a most unnatural pathology, an anguished, maniacal obsession with cats,” Doktor Hubertus Pflug had explained. “Ever since the poor girl was a baby, she has always regarded it her fate to one day metamorphose into a glorious panther, for she believes herself to be ein Gestaltwandler. Do you know this word? It means shapeshifter and refers to someone who possesses the power to take the form of anything in nature.”

The heat radiated up and down Fingal’s spine now, and his thoughts turned back to the present. Aye, it’s a change of phase. I’m melting into a chemical compound. Despite all, he greeted the girl and willed himself to flash a grin.

Review by Lisabet Sarai

When I look back on the experience of reading M. Laszlo’s novel On the Threshold, the first description that comes to mind is obscure. From the first page, the book throws up obstacles to comprehension. It appears to be set in Scotland, but the local inhabitants include a German philosopher and an American devotee of film theory. Mundane occurrences interweave with bizarre transformations. Symbols abound. Nature offers a marvelous and terrible mirror to humanity, as philosopher-engineer Fingal T. Smythe struggles to understand the secrets of the universe.

I really had no idea what was going on. I skirted the edge of losing my patience. Still, I kept reading, until the very end, savoring the imagery and gradually relinquishing any expectation of clarity. Why? Because the second adjective I’d apply to On the Threshold is original, and in this world of copy-cat books, I’m a sucker for originality.

There are no tropes in sight here. There’s no way to predict what will happen next. Indeed, the traditional structural elements of a novel make only a casual appearance. Nevertheless, there’s something fascinating about this book.

The narrative swerves from absurd to ecstatic, banal to poetic. There are inspiring as well as deeply disturbing images. There’s also the thread of a love story, enduring over decades, linking the protagonists when continents separate them.

So did I enjoy On the Threshold? The word “enjoy” seems a bit weak for this book. I found it surprising, challenging, often frustrating, occasionally illuminating. The author had a vision, I think, one that he was determined to capture in prose despite its slippery nature.

In the Afterword, M. Laszlo mentions that On the Threshold got its start during a poetry workshop. When I read that, things made more sense. The book, like a good poem, has multiple levels and arresting contradictions. As is the case with many poems I read, I’m not sure what it means. Like many poems, the author drops hints. It’s up to the reader to follow the clues.

About the Author

M. Laszlo is an aging recluse who lives in Bath, Ohio. Rumor holds that his pseudonym is a reference to Victor Laszlo, a character in the classic film Casablanca. On the Threshold is his first release with the acclaimed, Australian hybrid house AIA Publishing. Oddly, M. Laszlo insists that his latest work, On the Threshold, does in fact provide the correct answer to the riddle of the universe.

Buy link: https://aiapublishing.com/product/on-the-threshold-m-laszlo/

M. Laszlo will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

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