Crypt(o)spasm

by Gary J. Shipley

"Crypt(o)spasm is a fiendish formula for any vitalist utopia: The elimination of death or the so-called immortality is equal to life as the ceaseless permutation of a ghoulish emptiness. Rather than sensationally portraying this unfortunate utopia in frosty gray, Shipley brilliantly depicts it in a color-frenzy that corresponds with the livor mortis of the worldly flesh, detailing it with a prose that positively degenerates on an exponential decay curve. A monstrous book. I love it." (Reza Negarestani)

Genres: Fiction

673 pages, Paperback

First published August 2, 2012

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.

Gary J. Shipley is a writer and philosopher based in the UK. He has published work in various philosophy journals and literary journals.

Reviews

[S̶e̶a̶n̶ · Rating 4 out of 5]

This seems to be the bilious protoplasmic stew from which all of Gary J. Shipley's subsequent novels have crawled, leaving behind their slippery trail of mucoid messages. It is a depraved Easter basket crammed full of rotten eggs—the cancer of writing reduced to its virulent malformed cells then injected into a ragged sample of unwilling subjects. In this filthy dissection tray, Shipley pins down the farce that is the 'novel'—its ribcage cracked open and its fetid innards exposed for all to see. To look away is to deny your knowing complicity.

[David Peak · Rating 5 out of 5]

Edit 7/21/16: One of my all-time-favorite books has been made available by the great Schism Press. I wrote more about this here: http://thefanzine.com/the-parenthetic...

Here is my original review:

Perhaps a bit unwieldy at times, but overall an astounding achievement. Shipley's Crypt(o)spasm is a downright nasty, claustrophobic work, and one that is bound to find a devoted following once enough people venture into its labyrinthine plot, succumb to its deeply philosophical and pessimistic themes.

The year is 2610, the town is Pavilionstone. Morality and ethics were long ago corrupted and corroded by humanity's most base instincts, the dormant torture of a life without purpose expressed purely through projections of self-hatred. Nearly every sex act imaginable is played out in this book, every act of violence is exercised in great detail, again and again. At the center of all of this is Charles, an obese, struggling writer whose supremely negative creations seem to be manifesting themselves in his endlessly repetitive day-to-day life.

It's difficult to say what's "real" or "imagined," in Crypt(o)spasm. The text itself morphs through a huge amount of forms, points of view and techniques. In a lot of ways, it reminded me of Joyce's Ulysses (which I was reading concurrently) in terms of its wild, almost ostentatious permutations of style. Like Ulysses, Crypt(o)spasm is also a work that's self-conscious of its place in the continuum of literature. Quotes, epigraphs and excerpts from dozens (if not hundreds) of works of literature are sprinkled throughout the book as both ornamentation and narrative instruction. The lives and "works" of serial killers are explored equally obsessively.

This book deserves to be read and read again by anyone interested in unconventional structuring or those who enjoy being steeped in abjection. After spending nearly three weeks with it crawling around in my thoughts, Crypt(o)spasm may just well become a personal favorite.

A bit of a spoiler below. You have been warned.

The last 250 pages of Crypt(o)spasm are actually a repetition of the text, only this time Shipley has gone through and literally highlighted direct message to readers. I've never seen anything like this done before and even after reading it, it still seems like it should have been impossible. Is the entire book a subliminal message? Did the book itself bloom from these messages? I honestly have no idea. It's an eerie act of literary pyrotechnics that really has to be read to be believed. It's left me in awe.

[Max Restaino · Rating 5 out of 5]

Writing is fuckin hard, man

[Curtis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Finished! Time to hollow this book out and use it to frame my glory hole.

[Ben Russell · Rating 5 out of 5]

“I am a figment of my own imagination.”

“This 'I' that is a tool of language and nothing more…”

Brilliant. Nothing else resembles this experience. Philosophy’s nightmare. Charles’s secret message showed me the way.

[Jared Kline · Rating 2 out of 5]

Gave up on this one.

What's the difference between an author who bravely defies the standard conventions of the novel to explore the meaning(lessness) of our existence in a new and exciting way, and a morbid prick who overuses allusion to mask his own lack of creativity and inability to spend more than a few pages on plot or characterization?

I dunno, but I got bored with all the butt stuff I had to read about while I was working on the answer.

[Itxch · Rating 5 out of 5]

Holy Shit

[Fatih · Rating 5 out of 5]

normal degil!