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Francis Cherry #1
Medusa Touch
1973 The Author's fifth novel, proving himself to be a master of suspense
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1973
2 people are currently reading
121 people want to read
About the author
Peter Van Greenaway
21 books6 followersPeter Van Greenaway was a British novelist, the author of numerous thrillers with elements of horror and satire.
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
December 27, 2022
I really loved the movie and had high expectations on the book coming up with more background on John Morlar and his cursed gift. It was a bit disappointing. Hardly any new facts and slow winded endless chapters with dialogue, interviews and obscure philosophical diatribes. Well, the book wasn't massive but it was a very straining read. Better stick to the outstanding movie than this dated novel. Normally I like vintage horror, but this was was different. Only for die-hard fans!
September 30, 2018
Like a lot of people, I first came to this book because of the film of the same title. That film - though different in some ways to the book - is a classic of weird UK cinema, featuring Richard Burton as a suitably bitchy novelist with a catastrophic chip on his shoulder. Suffice it to say, I was intrigued enough to find a copy of the book to see how much it differed.
The filmmakers changed the gender (and nationality) of some of the characters of the book, but the main story remains as it appears in the novel. It should be noted, though, that the novel has not aged as well as the film: where the film has the motion of Burton et al to give it macabre life, the novel is mired in some now-unacceptable attitudes, and seems very tethered to post-war class conflict, which is kind of weird when you consider that it's really about telekinesis and revenge rather than the vicissitudes of Civvy Street.
The writing is rather straightforward, and has a sort of pip-pip-eh-what vibe to it. No-nonsense, shipshape and Bristol fashion. But it's serviceable: the narrative begins with the almost-murder of a misanthropic lawyer-cum-novelist, Morlar, and it's through the investigations of Cherry, a detective, that we're clued into what's made him the seething ball of fuck-you-humanity he appears to be. The story zips from current investigation to diary excerpt to memory and back again pretty easily, and Van Greenaway is adroit at such shifts.
I don't particularly want to spoil the story, but suffice it to say the tale is a portrait of how bitterness can ruin a man - particularly if he happens to believe his bitterness can affect the outside world. Morlar is a vile kind of guy, and living in times where sarcasm or cynicism can be seen as acceptable (or even default) ways of engaging in the world, it's difficult to not see parts of myself (whether previous or past) in his behaviour and bitchy journals. It was certainly confronting to me to realise how much of the book's commentary on the structures surrounding our lives rings true even today.
Then, of course, there's the bits that clang today: the insistence on calling women "bitches" if Morlar disagrees with them, and the portrayal of homsexuality as perverse or dirty. I get that these are things that were acceptable, perhaps, when the book was written, but the whole "man of his time" thing wears a bit thin as a salve for offensiveness. It's not all-pervading, by any means, but when either approach crops up it did make me think less of the book. Which is a shame when you consider how much criticism of church and state is salted throughout the book, particularly given how radical some of the criticisms may have appeared on publication.
The book is the first in a series detailing Cherry's investigations. I'm not sure I'm too interested in reading the rest of them, as the detective is, on his own, not incredibly interesting. But The Medusa Touch cracks on well enough for me to consider at least giving one a look.
The filmmakers changed the gender (and nationality) of some of the characters of the book, but the main story remains as it appears in the novel. It should be noted, though, that the novel has not aged as well as the film: where the film has the motion of Burton et al to give it macabre life, the novel is mired in some now-unacceptable attitudes, and seems very tethered to post-war class conflict, which is kind of weird when you consider that it's really about telekinesis and revenge rather than the vicissitudes of Civvy Street.
The writing is rather straightforward, and has a sort of pip-pip-eh-what vibe to it. No-nonsense, shipshape and Bristol fashion. But it's serviceable: the narrative begins with the almost-murder of a misanthropic lawyer-cum-novelist, Morlar, and it's through the investigations of Cherry, a detective, that we're clued into what's made him the seething ball of fuck-you-humanity he appears to be. The story zips from current investigation to diary excerpt to memory and back again pretty easily, and Van Greenaway is adroit at such shifts.
I don't particularly want to spoil the story, but suffice it to say the tale is a portrait of how bitterness can ruin a man - particularly if he happens to believe his bitterness can affect the outside world. Morlar is a vile kind of guy, and living in times where sarcasm or cynicism can be seen as acceptable (or even default) ways of engaging in the world, it's difficult to not see parts of myself (whether previous or past) in his behaviour and bitchy journals. It was certainly confronting to me to realise how much of the book's commentary on the structures surrounding our lives rings true even today.
Then, of course, there's the bits that clang today: the insistence on calling women "bitches" if Morlar disagrees with them, and the portrayal of homsexuality as perverse or dirty. I get that these are things that were acceptable, perhaps, when the book was written, but the whole "man of his time" thing wears a bit thin as a salve for offensiveness. It's not all-pervading, by any means, but when either approach crops up it did make me think less of the book. Which is a shame when you consider how much criticism of church and state is salted throughout the book, particularly given how radical some of the criticisms may have appeared on publication.
The book is the first in a series detailing Cherry's investigations. I'm not sure I'm too interested in reading the rest of them, as the detective is, on his own, not incredibly interesting. But The Medusa Touch cracks on well enough for me to consider at least giving one a look.
April 17, 2023
While it is true that this book does take a downward spiral towards the end, I still found it to be an interesting read with a very realistic plot line.
July 30, 2024
***Spoiler Alert***
Insufferably awful.
This 1973 sci-fi novel by Peter van Greenaway is probably best known for the lousy 1978 thriller movie it spawned. In that picture, Richard Burton portrays Morlar, the “man with evil eyes” who can telekinetically trigger plane crashes and disasters in space. Burton plays him as a pretentious gasbag. The source novel, on the other hand, is about a detective and a stone faced psychologist who spend the entire novel sifting through the life details of the pretentious gasbag while he lies comatose in a hospital.
Devoid of any dramatic tension thanks to its ponderous flashback structure, this novel also has the disadvantage of being about a miserable wretch of a character. Compounding this, van Greenaway’s style is clunky and pretentious, laden with all kinds of witty word play (“They were relaxatived” instead of “relaxed.”) It all builds up to an apocalyptic act that the louse plans to perpetrate on a congregation full of worshippers. Oh dear, will he or won't he massacre them? Who. Cares.
There. I just saved you 262 pages.
I absolutely hated this book - it was a chore to read, and I had to fight my way through it - through every last godawful page. Even the final atrocity is written with such an appalling lack of clarity that it spares us the joy of really trashy violent exploitation. Instead, it lapses into pseudo-religious gobbledygook and pontifications about the meaning of fate, God, good, evil, the universe, and probably the author's belly button.
Do yourself a favor and skip this piece of refuse.
Insufferably awful.
This 1973 sci-fi novel by Peter van Greenaway is probably best known for the lousy 1978 thriller movie it spawned. In that picture, Richard Burton portrays Morlar, the “man with evil eyes” who can telekinetically trigger plane crashes and disasters in space. Burton plays him as a pretentious gasbag. The source novel, on the other hand, is about a detective and a stone faced psychologist who spend the entire novel sifting through the life details of the pretentious gasbag while he lies comatose in a hospital.
Devoid of any dramatic tension thanks to its ponderous flashback structure, this novel also has the disadvantage of being about a miserable wretch of a character. Compounding this, van Greenaway’s style is clunky and pretentious, laden with all kinds of witty word play (“They were relaxatived” instead of “relaxed.”) It all builds up to an apocalyptic act that the louse plans to perpetrate on a congregation full of worshippers. Oh dear, will he or won't he massacre them? Who. Cares.
There. I just saved you 262 pages.
I absolutely hated this book - it was a chore to read, and I had to fight my way through it - through every last godawful page. Even the final atrocity is written with such an appalling lack of clarity that it spares us the joy of really trashy violent exploitation. Instead, it lapses into pseudo-religious gobbledygook and pontifications about the meaning of fate, God, good, evil, the universe, and probably the author's belly button.
Do yourself a favor and skip this piece of refuse.
October 3, 2024
I started off hating this book. It was if it had been written by Adrian Mole with the line that made me laugh out loud. "his eyes looked like a pair of dice thrown into cold porridge" I kept expecting him to say" Just my luck" in a Brummy accent😂 plus in true Adrian Mole style all sorts of references to neitzsche. It was cringe.
The lead character is cringe. They all are really. But I ended up enjoying it. I don't know why at all. Maybe it was the Adrian Mole effect.
The lead character is cringe. They all are really. But I ended up enjoying it. I don't know why at all. Maybe it was the Adrian Mole effect.
April 22, 2023
Peter Van Greenaway’s 1973 novel, The Medusa Touch 📚👁️✈️💥🏛️✍️ is perhaps better known for its 1978 film adaptation 🎬 starring Richard Burton.
Burton’s delivery of the jaundiced dialogue of world weary novelist and would-be murder victim, John Morlar 🗣️ strikes me each time I read this book, even in those moments that didn’t make it into the film.
The book is a very heavy-going read at times 😥, not just for Morlar’s grim view on life, but because it is divided by page breaks rather than by chapters, which make it seem longer than it is 📑. However, it bounces along in its climax.
It is a searing 1970s appraisal of mankind and what the future might hold in store for it. I suspect that the character of Morlar, in particular, may be as controversial now as he likely was when the book was published 📖, if not even more so.
It perhaps isn’t helpful that the novel’s intellectual “hero”, Scotland Yard Detective Inspector Francis Cherry 🕵️♂️🍒 often finds himself agreeing with Morlar’s views.
Meanwhile, Cherry 🍒 and Morlar (in flashbacks) play a mental chess game♟️with psychiatrist, Doctor Karl Zonfeld 👨⚕️, whose purpose is to gradually reveal Morlar’s true nature.
Fortunately, Cherry’s partner, Sergeant Tom Duff brings a lighter hearted perspective in a grim and sometimes overwhelming plot, but he purely provides temporary relief in a tale that focuses on catastrophe. 💥
Whilst I enjoy the film 🎥 more than the book, I would describe the book as: what if Colin Dexter’s Detective Chief Inspector Morse 🕵️♂️ was investigating the demonic disasters in The Omen Trilogy (1976-1981)? 😈 I think that aptly sums up the cultured “hero” (who is not your typical police detective) 🕵️♂️, the “villain” 🦹🏻♂️ and the scale of the events 💥 that have Morlar at their centre. If you like Morse 🕵️♂️ and/or The Omen films 😈, then go for it: you likely won’t be disappointed!
Burton’s delivery of the jaundiced dialogue of world weary novelist and would-be murder victim, John Morlar 🗣️ strikes me each time I read this book, even in those moments that didn’t make it into the film.
The book is a very heavy-going read at times 😥, not just for Morlar’s grim view on life, but because it is divided by page breaks rather than by chapters, which make it seem longer than it is 📑. However, it bounces along in its climax.
It is a searing 1970s appraisal of mankind and what the future might hold in store for it. I suspect that the character of Morlar, in particular, may be as controversial now as he likely was when the book was published 📖, if not even more so.
It perhaps isn’t helpful that the novel’s intellectual “hero”, Scotland Yard Detective Inspector Francis Cherry 🕵️♂️🍒 often finds himself agreeing with Morlar’s views.
Meanwhile, Cherry 🍒 and Morlar (in flashbacks) play a mental chess game♟️with psychiatrist, Doctor Karl Zonfeld 👨⚕️, whose purpose is to gradually reveal Morlar’s true nature.
Fortunately, Cherry’s partner, Sergeant Tom Duff brings a lighter hearted perspective in a grim and sometimes overwhelming plot, but he purely provides temporary relief in a tale that focuses on catastrophe. 💥
Whilst I enjoy the film 🎥 more than the book, I would describe the book as: what if Colin Dexter’s Detective Chief Inspector Morse 🕵️♂️ was investigating the demonic disasters in The Omen Trilogy (1976-1981)? 😈 I think that aptly sums up the cultured “hero” (who is not your typical police detective) 🕵️♂️, the “villain” 🦹🏻♂️ and the scale of the events 💥 that have Morlar at their centre. If you like Morse 🕵️♂️ and/or The Omen films 😈, then go for it: you likely won’t be disappointed!
December 23, 2025
Like most, I was prompted to dig up this old thriller by my love for the fantastic movie adaptation. And it is Richard Burton’s baritone I hear when I read Morlar’s misanthropic ranting, though that is a pleasure. If anyone is seeking illumination as to Morlar’s diabolical origins, or his superhuman abilities, they will be disappointed. However, this is still a cracking read; a relic of very British sci-fi mingled with horror and counterculture anti-authoritarianism.
September 21, 2024
No sign of L
July 9, 2013
OK first off this is a dated and I make no secret of it. I will also admit that I didnt realise it was first a book and the first in a series, what I did know was that it was a film that back when I was growing up scared and fascinated me in equal parts. The book for once is pretty faithful to the film (ok I know they came the other way around) so that when Years later I discovered it was a book and that I was able to track it down - I got to relive the same experiences all over again. This was a great slice of nostalgia and good old fashioned excited rolled in to one - sadly find the rest in the series is going to be a little harder to pull off.
October 2, 2011
I loved the film so much, so I read the book. I can't believe no one else appears to have read it!!!!
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews