Ian Covey is a doppelganger. A mimic. A shapeshifter. He can replace anyone he wants by becoming a perfect copy; taking the victim’s face, his home, his family. His life. No longer a man, but a hungry void, Ian Covey is a monster. David Tirado is a massive, hideous colony organism, a gestalt entity. The sum of Covey’s discarded parts. A roiling, chaotic patchwork of vast and varied personalities, memories, and physical forms that used to be a man − many men − David Tirado is a monster. Sophie Tirado’s identity has been eroded by the tides of a long relationship, and now the man she gave herself up for has been stolen away and replaced by a mimic. Caught between the Doppelganger and the Gestalt Entity, she will try to save her husband, but there might be nothing left of him. Virtue has a veil, vice a mask, and evil a thousand faces.
Much like film noir, Justin Robinson was born and raised in Los Angeles. He splits his time between editing comic books, writing prose and wondering what that disgusting smell is. Degrees in Anthropology and History prepared him for unemployment, but an obsession with horror fiction and a laundry list of phobias provided a more attractive option.
Justin Robinson's Everyman melds persona switching with the body horror subgenre and taps not only into the fear of losing one's identity and bodily integrity, but also turns an eye on materialism and how the things we love most become a literal extension of us, often to our detriment. On top of that he's crafted a uniquely nasty villain who desires to be anyone (and everyone) but can't escape his own repulsive nature. Although not as absurdist as Cronenberg, this book is tailor made for anyone who is a fan of films like Existenz or Videodrome. Weird and wild, this is great stuff. (Note: I read an uncorrected advance copy of this book.)
When I first picked up Everyman, I was reminded of the morality play with the same name. While there are underlying themes that are similar, Justin Robinson’s story stands on its own. Using a rich, vivid writing style, Robinson has created a tale of horror, mystery, and intrigue that will keep you reading, and guessing, until the final page. With characters torn by indecision and uncertainty, Everyman will leave you enthralled.
I'm always into a creature or entity that isn't explored much, to see where the author takes it and how unique he or she can make it. Robinson takes the doppleganger, and gives it a wholly unique spin, and gives us a point of view that I have seen nothing like before. I just kept turning pages, waiting to see where it would go next, and more importantly, what Justin Robinson would do to keep this story as individual and tense as he did from beginning to end. I was truly fascinated by the storyline, and thought this was a very cool new perspective, from an author I will read more from.
Short version: It's outstanding. It defies expectations. It's a great read.
BORING PERSONAL ANECDOTE
My best friend and bandmate picked this up from the author himself at a merch booth at a convention. He asked for the saddest, most depressing book the author had, and Mr. Robinson suggested this one, signing as much into the book itself. Shortly thereafter I moved houses and the book ended up in a box of books I didn't look at for ages, only for me to pick it out after yet another move. And I'm very glad I did.
/BORING PERSONAL ANECDOTE
This book is not what you think it is going to be based on the jacket copy. It is a harrowing tale of half-formed humanity where every character is deeply sympathetic and yet very few are truly redeemable. The very nature of who our protagonists are shifts during the telling, and by the time I was down to the last twenty pages I was still unsure how this was all going to shake out. The story tugs at insecurities and existential bitterness over the course of its pages until it is playing them like a melody, leaving the reader wondering what their definition of a happy ending would even be under the circumstances.
Everyman is a wild, bizarre story, written by an author who seems to me uniquely L.A. The novel starts with a typical 'everyman' of L.A., trying to break in to the movie business, walking home to his typical L.A. courtyard apartments. Then everything gets bizarre, the reader notices flesh growing like a tumor over their kindle, and they're in for a unique ride. Like the characters in the novel, you slowly start to realize what is happening. By the time you do, something physically has changed.
This book is very physical. Flesh and body and organs fill the pages. It is both horrific and at the same time ‘so cool.’ You won’t be able to read this without thinking of the movie version. I won’t spoil it and choose the director.
But besides the terror of the flesh, the overriding emotion you will feel is isolation. Characters are lost without the object they have trusted with not only their love, but their entire self-worth. Losing this person to an imposter is the biggest fear of all. Ironically, this same isolation is felt by the 'monster' himself. If you can be an ‘everyman,’ you are really 'no-man' and it is not you that others love, but that which you are pretending to be.
The implications in this novel are deep, the writing demands you pay attention, and the scenarios are a lot of fun.
I'm still torn on whether or not I prefer Robinson's horror or his noir/comedy/snark. Either way, this is another shining example of the amazing command he has over scene setting and creep factor.
There's something deeply unsettling about the antagonist, and it's something you pick up on as soon as he's introduced. It wasn't until I read this novel that I had any sort of fear of seeing my own doppelganger turn around, smile at me, and disappear into my apartment; shutting me out of my own life.
Robinson's characters are always flawed and realistic, and feel as though they're modeled exactly after someone he might have known in real life. Watching David's life fall apart and seeing how Sophie handles it were particularly hard for me (it's always been pretty easy for me to imagine myself in someone else's shoes). None of his characters or ideas ever feel cliche, and I love that.
The antagonist, while repulsive, does evoke pity. His victims aren't perfect people. The body horror scenes have enough details to fill your imagination with terrible things before you try to sleep, and the writing, as always, keeps me coming back for more.
As a fellow Books of the Dead Press author I read an advance copy of this.
Everyman is a complex novel with none of the usual vampires, werewolves, zombies, or demons, but rather a uniquely "talented" villain who is repugnant, yet pitiable.
As this "man" searches for some form of fulfilment he transforms into an exact duplicate of his victims, stealing their lives, and loves, whilst leaving them as unrecognisable shadow of themselves. Shadows called together as a single, monstrous, entity, hidden away in the Hollywood Hills.
There's a lot going on in this story, with many characters drifting in and out of the tale, but this only serves to reinforce the driving themes of the novel of one becoming many, and many becoming one.
As the climax of the novel is reached the tension ramps up with things moving at an ever more frantic pace. Everyman is a novel that you will give you plenty to think about, and comes highly recommended.
I think this thing ate my review. Second time's a charm.
Sad to say, I did not like this book. It was too wordy for me. And since this was not the longest book I've ever read, I should probably explain that. There are pages and scenes and nearly whole chapters that are nothing but inner monologue and scenery chewing. It would go on for so long that I needed something to break it up - action or dialog. I felt it really dragged the book down. And I really wanted to like this book. I read it all the way to the end with the hopes that something perked up. Things got slightly better toward the end, but even that disappointed me.
Sorry Justin Robinson, but this book was not my cup of tea. I suppose if one of his books goes on sale, I might give him another chance. Other then the dragging bits of "What character X is feeling and has felt for the past ten years", the story was pretty entertaining. Just a bit confusing in some places.
First impressions: this is a really great HORROR novel. Like something HP Lovecraft or Stephen King might have written had they had a slightly different edge to them--or had either of them been the product of Los Angeles.
Justin Robinson crafts a true page turner about the nature of identity, need and the human need to be loved--what some can become to fill that need, and how others can literally lose their identity because of it.
This is identity theft on a level that John Carpenter might approve.
Justin Robinson has created a monster/villain/anti-hero that is both at once alien and familiar, pitiable and loathe some.
Let me be clear: this a brutal, mean book to its protagonists, but ultimately, it is about figuring out who you are when you have nothing but yourself left to hold onto.
*Contains Spoilers* Loved it. Robinson has a knack for horror, and I hope to read more books of this genre from him. Vivid and detailed, his books are more than just blood and gore. They get you thinking about more philosophical notions. EVERYMAN in particular was an unnerving book. And had me questioning what makes up our identity. Is it the material possessions that we surround ourselves with, or our actual selves that we prize and covet. What, in particular, do I covet? Is it material? Or something else? This book had a satisfying and fitting end. I don't want to spoil it, so if you don't want to know STOP.
Looking around a room and seeing no one you know is bad. Worse is when people's eyes slide past you, not able or willing to see you. Not wanting to see you because you don't belong and acknowledging you would force them to accept the stranger in their midst. In Robinson's Everyman, that would happen, only it would happen in a room full of people that should recognize you. Your mother, your wife, your best friend. All ripped away, not by death but because who you are has been stolen.
Everyman looks at how you define yourself and what you become when that is taken away. And it does it with Robinson's wonderful turn of phrase, character development and fantastic dialogue.
This is a horror novel about identity, about the sense of self, about what it means to be removed from your own life. Imagine Invasion of the Bodysnatchers with only one all too human bodysnatcher, set in slow motion, gamboling through other people’s lives and intimacies. Imagine the realization that the person you thought you knew has been replaced. Imagine the isolation of being cast out of your life to wander in isolation while someone else wears your clothes and your face.
Imagine the rush of becoming anyone you want, if you can just get close enough.
Very scary stuff! It reminded me a lot of a David Cronenberg or David Lynch film.
Lots of frightening passages and images. I'd recommend this to anyone who is fed up with the atypical slasher horror film type of book. This one is scary at very core of it, and keeps on twisting as it goes on.
The only thing I wasn't a huge fan of was the ending, which was good, but not finished in a way that I was satisfied with.
Overall, very good in the end and worth recommending if you're in the mood for something frightening.
I'm a huge fan of Mr. Robinson, having read several of his other books. Everyman intrigued me because it seemed to be a straight up horror novel. And it was, but although there is a monster in the book, so much more about it is even more frightening. In these days of headlines screaming about computer hacking, losing your identity is terrifying enough but to lose your face! I was pulled in immediately. Everyman is surprising. I've never read a horror novel that is ultimately about finding yourself. Great job.
I'm reluctant to say too much, I have no desire to spoil the many unexpected turns this novel takes. This is Justin Robinson's unique blend of horror, much akin in tone to his previous novel "Dollmaker." Here, the blend of urban fantasy, body horror and serial killer tones will easily appease the horror fan, while his take on the question of identity will appease the armchair philosopher in all of us. (Plus it will straight up creep you out.)
In Everyman, Justin Robinson tells the story of identity theft taken to the extreme. His writing is clean and lovely, with descriptions that linger. The story is at once extremely odd and strangely familiar, like Robinson's eerie, lonely, deadly mimic. In the end, this book will have you thinking about how much you really know anyone at all, no matter how close they are to you.