“To turn one’s back on the evidence and allow a twin to walk this earth as a carrier of Satan’s seed is the true blasphemy, Crighton. We are now convinced that there has always been a carrier of a Satanic messiah’s seed on this planet. As one carrier dies, so another takes his place. A hellborn torch carrier as proclaimed in the Satan Scrolls -– a torch passed from generation to generation. We must extinguish that torch, Crighton.” Crighton stared at Legrange. “I can well understand your doubts,” the old priest continued. “Why twins?” He shook his head. “We don’t know. Unless you consider the strange rapport that often exists between twins that science cannot explain. Two powerful minds watching over each other. Two minds in touch with each other. Two minds alert to danger. Such a torch would be difficult to extinguish. Perhaps impossible. But we must try.”
James Follett (not "Follet") was an author and screenwriter, born in 1939 in Tolworth, England.
Follett became a full-time fiction writer in 1976, after resigning from contract work as a technical writer for the British Ministry of Defence. He has wrote over 20 novels, several television scripts (including episodes of the BBC's Blake's 7), and many radio dramas. Follett was one of the 400 most popular British authors, measured by the numbers of books borrowed from public libraries in the UK, having spent 11 years in the public lending right's top two bands of authors.
Wow. This book really got to me on many levels, and it's going to be hard to capture them all.
First, there are the shifts, which really pulled at me. I wasn't really sure about it, right up until chapter six. The first four chapters were interesting, the fifth really made me sit up and pay attention as the viewpoint and time changes so completely and things really started to get interesting from six on.
Then, bam, chapter thirteen flips us half a world away to another view. There is where I really started to devour the story in earnest, that was the tipping point where it solidified itself as a book not to put down for me.
I did eventually try to stop reading and sleep after chapter 19 and was haunted by laughing voices, demonic faces and so forth. "It's not really a horror", a friend said to me. And yet not since My seven-year-old self scared himself silly abed with Dracula has a book so invaded my mind, although reading a Daniel H. Wilson novel in a week without sleep came pretty close.
The rest of the book was utterly thrilling, compelling to the end and with a wonderful harrowing car journey so diametrically opposed to an American chase that I felt cocooned in Britishness just reading it. Of course, the philosophy and religious persecution isn't my cup of tea, but here, it was wonderfully executed and a shatteringly enjoyable read.