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Liminal Monster
IN THE CENTER OF THE FOREST SITS A HOUSE OF LEAVES AND ASH. INSIDE THE HOUSE, HIS HEART AND LIES.
Inside the house called Sempiternity there is a lake, at the center of which an island sits. Upon the island, a spire of stone. Surrounding the spire, an orchard of dreams.
Beneath an apple tree sits faceless Self, who writes of sorry things. "What an awful place. What a cruelty it is, being birthed of pain."
But when a dog that should not be wanders into Sempiternity through a door that should not be, Self learns a terrible Sempiternity is no longer safe, no longer theirs. Fictional failures come in search of proper ends, in search of slaughter quelled by Self's prosaic hand.
In search of lies.
Thus, Self departs Sempiternity for the forest dark, for at its center is the ruined town of Own.
The place where the nightmare began.
Inside the house called Sempiternity there is a lake, at the center of which an island sits. Upon the island, a spire of stone. Surrounding the spire, an orchard of dreams.
Beneath an apple tree sits faceless Self, who writes of sorry things. "What an awful place. What a cruelty it is, being birthed of pain."
But when a dog that should not be wanders into Sempiternity through a door that should not be, Self learns a terrible Sempiternity is no longer safe, no longer theirs. Fictional failures come in search of proper ends, in search of slaughter quelled by Self's prosaic hand.
In search of lies.
Thus, Self departs Sempiternity for the forest dark, for at its center is the ruined town of Own.
The place where the nightmare began.
- GenresHorror
86 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 27, 2025
1 person is currently reading
137 people want to read
About the author
Luke Tarzian
30 books81 followersFantasy Author. Long Doggo Enthusiast. Snoot Booper. Shouter of Profanities. Drinker of Whiskey.
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Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews
July 15, 2025
My review of Liminal Monster is published at Grimdark Magazine.
Liminal Monster is an emotionally charged nightmare brought to life through author Luke Tarzian’s vivid prose and seemingly unbounded imagination. Tarzian’s novella defies easy categorization, combining dark fantasy, magical realism, and Borgesian metafiction, in many ways serving as a meditation on the craft of writing and the new creations brought to life through this artistic process.
The narrative alternates between real and fantastical worlds, steadily blurring the line between the two. In our own reality, the first-person protagonist is a twenty-something-year-old author struggling with mental health issues. For some authors, writing can be an exercise in exorcising demons; for others, this process can summon demons of their own creation.
While the first-person narrative has, at least initially, a clear sense of time, the alternate fantasy world has a dreamlike quality that exists outside conventional notions of time and space. In this alternate world, the perspective shifts to a third-person protagonist known as Self. This duality in Liminal Monster recalls the parallel worlds created by Haruki Murakami in Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World and more recently in The City and its Uncertain Walls.
However, considering Murakami’s full corpus, the closest comparison to Liminal Monster would be Kafka on the Shore. Like Murakami’s opus, Tarzian’s novella explores a perversion of reality that is at times playful—a talking cat!—but more often profane. Liminal Monster has a labyrinthine feel that evokes the short stories of Jorge Luis Borges or House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, for which there is a direct allusion in the latter part of the novella.
Luke Tarzian’s writing captures the dark beauty of Edgar Allan Poe. I found myself noting a quotable passage on nearly every page of Liminal Monster. However, the tone of the novella feels more closely aligned with that of Stefan Grabiński (1887-1936), known as the “Polish Poe” or “Polish Lovecraft.” Liminal Monster specifically recalls Grabiński’s short story, “The Area,” which can be found as part of The Dark Domain anthology. “The Area” is a horrifying read in which a mentally unstable author’s creations come to life, trapping him in a psychological prison of his own making. Tarzian captures the same type of sentiment, walking the lines of parapsychology as feelings of grief during the collapse of a relationship becoming nearly tangible.
Altogether, Luke Tarzian proves once again to be a rare talent. Liminal Monster eschews conventional genre labels and narrative structure to deliver a story that soars to the greatest of literary heights while mining the deepest wells of emotion.
Liminal Monster is an emotionally charged nightmare brought to life through author Luke Tarzian’s vivid prose and seemingly unbounded imagination. Tarzian’s novella defies easy categorization, combining dark fantasy, magical realism, and Borgesian metafiction, in many ways serving as a meditation on the craft of writing and the new creations brought to life through this artistic process.
The narrative alternates between real and fantastical worlds, steadily blurring the line between the two. In our own reality, the first-person protagonist is a twenty-something-year-old author struggling with mental health issues. For some authors, writing can be an exercise in exorcising demons; for others, this process can summon demons of their own creation.
While the first-person narrative has, at least initially, a clear sense of time, the alternate fantasy world has a dreamlike quality that exists outside conventional notions of time and space. In this alternate world, the perspective shifts to a third-person protagonist known as Self. This duality in Liminal Monster recalls the parallel worlds created by Haruki Murakami in Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World and more recently in The City and its Uncertain Walls.
However, considering Murakami’s full corpus, the closest comparison to Liminal Monster would be Kafka on the Shore. Like Murakami’s opus, Tarzian’s novella explores a perversion of reality that is at times playful—a talking cat!—but more often profane. Liminal Monster has a labyrinthine feel that evokes the short stories of Jorge Luis Borges or House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, for which there is a direct allusion in the latter part of the novella.
Luke Tarzian’s writing captures the dark beauty of Edgar Allan Poe. I found myself noting a quotable passage on nearly every page of Liminal Monster. However, the tone of the novella feels more closely aligned with that of Stefan Grabiński (1887-1936), known as the “Polish Poe” or “Polish Lovecraft.” Liminal Monster specifically recalls Grabiński’s short story, “The Area,” which can be found as part of The Dark Domain anthology. “The Area” is a horrifying read in which a mentally unstable author’s creations come to life, trapping him in a psychological prison of his own making. Tarzian captures the same type of sentiment, walking the lines of parapsychology as feelings of grief during the collapse of a relationship becoming nearly tangible.
Altogether, Luke Tarzian proves once again to be a rare talent. Liminal Monster eschews conventional genre labels and narrative structure to deliver a story that soars to the greatest of literary heights while mining the deepest wells of emotion.
May 31, 2025
Emotionally taxing and raw, Liminal Monster will drive a stake into your heart long before you turn the final page.
August 31, 2025
In classic Luke Tarzian fashion, Liminal Monster is personal, poetic, emotionally devastating, and somehow meditative. It is a story about grief that’s confusing, aching, and strangely comforting in its darkness.
As a fresh member of Team Grief, I’ve been turning to stories that reflect this weird, ever-shifting internal landscape, and Tarzian’s been a staple. A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell shook me earlier this year, right before I joined the club and Liminal Monster picks up that tremor and keeps it humming.
His prose is gorgeous as ever, though I’ll admit my poor non-native-English-speaking brain stumbled over a few of the denser passages this time, which is part of why I’m landing at four stars instead of five. The book likely deserves the full score; but my processing power lagged—and, truthfully, I didn’t love it quite as much as A Cup of Tea…
The narrative alternates between two realities: one grounded in the real world, told in first person by a twenty-something author grappling with mental health, and the other, more fantastical plane, centered on a character named Self. The voice shifts, but the themes loss, fragmentation, the monsters within thread the two timelines together.
Luke cites the Souls games among his inspirations at the end, and I absolutely see it—that cryptic descent into meaning. But because my brain is permanently stuck in Expedition 33 mode, I also felt some of that flavor here. Might be because I haven’t stopped thinking about that game since May. Might be projection. Probably projection. Still, the parallels are there if you squint and cry hard enough.
This is not a story that fixes you. It’s a story that sits beside you in the dark and says, “I know.” Highly recommended, especially if you need something that doesn’t offer easy answers, just presence. Also, the book has a cat named Pisswhisker. So, you’ll be fine. Go read it.
As a fresh member of Team Grief, I’ve been turning to stories that reflect this weird, ever-shifting internal landscape, and Tarzian’s been a staple. A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell shook me earlier this year, right before I joined the club and Liminal Monster picks up that tremor and keeps it humming.
His prose is gorgeous as ever, though I’ll admit my poor non-native-English-speaking brain stumbled over a few of the denser passages this time, which is part of why I’m landing at four stars instead of five. The book likely deserves the full score; but my processing power lagged—and, truthfully, I didn’t love it quite as much as A Cup of Tea…
The narrative alternates between two realities: one grounded in the real world, told in first person by a twenty-something author grappling with mental health, and the other, more fantastical plane, centered on a character named Self. The voice shifts, but the themes loss, fragmentation, the monsters within thread the two timelines together.
Luke cites the Souls games among his inspirations at the end, and I absolutely see it—that cryptic descent into meaning. But because my brain is permanently stuck in Expedition 33 mode, I also felt some of that flavor here. Might be because I haven’t stopped thinking about that game since May. Might be projection. Probably projection. Still, the parallels are there if you squint and cry hard enough.
This is not a story that fixes you. It’s a story that sits beside you in the dark and says, “I know.” Highly recommended, especially if you need something that doesn’t offer easy answers, just presence. Also, the book has a cat named Pisswhisker. So, you’ll be fine. Go read it.
August 29, 2025
Liminal Monster is like you took a tortured soul, flayed it open and let Edgar Allan Poe and Vessel from Sleep Token perform the autopsy. It's a raw, real exploration of grief with two opposing POVs. One is in first person; it is crass and raw. The other is from the POV of Self, an abstraction who offers beautiful prose and reflection while wandering through an alternate reality of unfinished dreams.
August 28, 2025
Reality and emotion are a muscle, a serpent wrapped around my neck.
The follow up to A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell, Liminal Monster will hit you right in the feels. If you want a chosen one story or a fun romp through The Shire, this is not the book for you. But if you want maximum emotional damage and beautiful prose, you're going to find something here that will stick with you days and weeks after reading. This journey into a dark nightmare is one that, while tough to read at times, is one that must be experienced.
-
8.45/10
4.5/5 ⭐️
The follow up to A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell, Liminal Monster will hit you right in the feels. If you want a chosen one story or a fun romp through The Shire, this is not the book for you. But if you want maximum emotional damage and beautiful prose, you're going to find something here that will stick with you days and weeks after reading. This journey into a dark nightmare is one that, while tough to read at times, is one that must be experienced.
-
8.45/10
4.5/5 ⭐️
June 6, 2025
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For more reviews, go to: https://wolfmantula.com/recent-posts/
————————————————————————————————
MY ⭐️ RATING: 4.75/5
FORMAT: Advanced Reader Copy
The cover of Liminal Monster is a phenomenal, echoing the eerie allure of A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell, though not a direct sequel as Tarzian put it “ it’s a sort of sequel but it takes place around it.” That loose connection delivers a shift from Cup’s whimsical spark to a haunting, soul-stirring dive into psychological shadows. This isn’t a tale for everyone, but as Tarzian peels back his own liminal monsters, it prods us readers to face our own—those quiet aches that linger like a song you can’t hear without breaking. For me, it’s like hearing “Hurt” by Johnny Cash (originally by Nine Inch Nails) and feeling my heart crack open for loved ones I’ve lost.
Tarzian’s prose is pure magic, flowing like a dark poem one second, then hitting you with a raw, gut-wrenching truth the next. It’s got this mythic, moody vibe, like Neil Gaiman’s Sandman mixed with Edgar Allan Poe’s gothic chill, layered with an eerie beauty that burns into your mind. Tarzian’s practically spilling his soul onto the page, using the godskin journal as a symbol for how writing lays your heart bare but also lets you wrestle your demons, sometimes with a twisted smirk. The way he blends real-life hurt with bizarre places like Rot or the apple orchard stuffed with bitter memories, it’s like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind spun into a whiskey-soaked fever dream born from sorrow and a touch of dark wit.
“The milk-white grin lingers in the darkness of my mind.”
But don’t let the darkness fool you, just like A Cup of Tea, Liminal Monster is packed with Tarzian’s wicked sense of dark humor, keeping the heavy stuff from swallowing us readers whole. Pisswhisker McKeen, the foul-mouthed cat who’s royally pissed about his own name, had me cracking up, then there’s Jaksov, the satyr with a disturbingly wild love for ice cream, whose antics are so twisted they’re hilarious. Moments like a raccoon waving a used condom or chapter titles like “Scotch & Magic” are pure Tarzian, mixing morbid wit with absurd charm to give you a breather when the grief hits hard. It’s like finding a grim chuckle in a nightmare, and I was all in for it.
What really got me was how Liminal Monster feels like a raw, messy map of healing. The protagonist’s bouncing between therapy, boozy nights, and strange places like Whimsy Hell—it’s like watching someone wrestle their demons in real time. I saw myself in that struggle, as I said in my review of A Cup of Tea, I resonated a lot with this story since I lost my dad in 2015 to colon cancer, and I’m coming up on the 10 year anniversary in July, that lingering grief feels like my own “milk-white grin” stuck in the back of my mind and Tarzian nails that kind of ache. But with the darkness and the humor, Tarzian’s final image of apple blossoms and bear cubs playing under a smiling sun is a quiet promise that light’s out there somewhere. This story’s a beast, heartbreaking, strange, and beautiful, and Tarzian knows I’m a fan for life.
Follow me on X: Twitter.com/wolfmantula
For more reviews, go to: https://wolfmantula.com/recent-posts/
————————————————————————————————
MY ⭐️ RATING: 4.75/5
FORMAT: Advanced Reader Copy
The cover of Liminal Monster is a phenomenal, echoing the eerie allure of A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell, though not a direct sequel as Tarzian put it “ it’s a sort of sequel but it takes place around it.” That loose connection delivers a shift from Cup’s whimsical spark to a haunting, soul-stirring dive into psychological shadows. This isn’t a tale for everyone, but as Tarzian peels back his own liminal monsters, it prods us readers to face our own—those quiet aches that linger like a song you can’t hear without breaking. For me, it’s like hearing “Hurt” by Johnny Cash (originally by Nine Inch Nails) and feeling my heart crack open for loved ones I’ve lost.
Tarzian’s prose is pure magic, flowing like a dark poem one second, then hitting you with a raw, gut-wrenching truth the next. It’s got this mythic, moody vibe, like Neil Gaiman’s Sandman mixed with Edgar Allan Poe’s gothic chill, layered with an eerie beauty that burns into your mind. Tarzian’s practically spilling his soul onto the page, using the godskin journal as a symbol for how writing lays your heart bare but also lets you wrestle your demons, sometimes with a twisted smirk. The way he blends real-life hurt with bizarre places like Rot or the apple orchard stuffed with bitter memories, it’s like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind spun into a whiskey-soaked fever dream born from sorrow and a touch of dark wit.
“The milk-white grin lingers in the darkness of my mind.”
But don’t let the darkness fool you, just like A Cup of Tea, Liminal Monster is packed with Tarzian’s wicked sense of dark humor, keeping the heavy stuff from swallowing us readers whole. Pisswhisker McKeen, the foul-mouthed cat who’s royally pissed about his own name, had me cracking up, then there’s Jaksov, the satyr with a disturbingly wild love for ice cream, whose antics are so twisted they’re hilarious. Moments like a raccoon waving a used condom or chapter titles like “Scotch & Magic” are pure Tarzian, mixing morbid wit with absurd charm to give you a breather when the grief hits hard. It’s like finding a grim chuckle in a nightmare, and I was all in for it.
What really got me was how Liminal Monster feels like a raw, messy map of healing. The protagonist’s bouncing between therapy, boozy nights, and strange places like Whimsy Hell—it’s like watching someone wrestle their demons in real time. I saw myself in that struggle, as I said in my review of A Cup of Tea, I resonated a lot with this story since I lost my dad in 2015 to colon cancer, and I’m coming up on the 10 year anniversary in July, that lingering grief feels like my own “milk-white grin” stuck in the back of my mind and Tarzian nails that kind of ache. But with the darkness and the humor, Tarzian’s final image of apple blossoms and bear cubs playing under a smiling sun is a quiet promise that light’s out there somewhere. This story’s a beast, heartbreaking, strange, and beautiful, and Tarzian knows I’m a fan for life.
June 5, 2025
"It seems, "Self says, “that each road leads to Hell.”
Why I Picked This Up
I reviewed A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell, the book that precedes this. You don’t have to read it first, though I do recommend it.
It was a bit of a mindfuck, dragging me through all human emotion; raw, honest, bleak and yet carrying a hopefulness through it all. Liminal Monster builds on that and proved an even more rewarding challenge.
The Good Stuff
Liminal Monster is a unique book that tested me as a reader, both emotionally and practically in terms of adapting to a largely unfamiliar fragmented style.
"They say monstrous things are often painted gold."
I imagine a joy of being a self published author is the freedom to try something bold, inventive, different. Tarzian certainly does this here, with a dual storytelling device; one thread being the fever dream-like darkness of Self and Sempiternity. The other being a more grounded but no less raw memoir style device. The latter is easier to follow (the effort is worth it regardless) yet the former is exquisite in its execution.
There is a gorgeous poetry to Tarzian’s prose and it sucks you into the darkness and at times gothic feeling oneiric tendrils he weaves through the book. There are metaphors to dissect and simply the beauty of language to appreciate. Some passages contain possibly the most beautiful combination of words I’ve ever read. And the words would come alive even more if spoken aloud; I feel like they deserve to be given voice.
Of course, this has to be contrasted with huge boners and ice cream cones appearing from ass cheeks… who else but Tarzian?
There’s also a cat called Pisswhisker McKeen.
How else though to handle the heavy themes, having shone a flashlight into the soul of a human being dealing with heart-wrenching loss and loneliness?
There are a lot of striking and deeply honest parts of this book that will resonate strongly with people who have been through all the degrees of heartache and it gives experiencing this book a sense of depth, poignancy and weirdly, a sense of calmness and tranquility too.
There is a freedom in living alone made all the more profound by having spent the last two years living alone, together.
Things to Know
Despite Tarzian being a fantasy author, this isn’t a fantasy book – it’s an emotional mindscape in disguise.
Then again, there is a fantastic metaphorical sequence in a decaying city towards the end of the book that feels straight from a souls game.
Although there are fantasy elements throughout, it���s more of a psychedelic foray into a tortured mind and the fever dream style in parts as well as unabashed honesty about grief and mental health may mean this book might not be right for you. It’s a challenge to follow at times but worth the perseverance for sure. Imagine those times your mind feels like it’s left your body and you come back to lucidity wondering where you just went and you have a little of the vibe you’ll experience.
I wouldn’t say that you shouldn’t read if you’re struggling mentally. It could have quite the cathartic effect, in fact. When I’m struggling, bearing witness to other human beings fighting against grief and dismay and finding inner strength and resilience can be incredibly inspiring and this book certainly has this quality.
Final Thoughts
Rarely are people brave enough to open the depths of their souls to themselves, let alone to the anonymous reader.
In a world of shallow books made for entertainment, it can be really rewarding experiencing something truly emotive and full of depth and challenging yourself as a reader.
If self publishing didn’t exist, we wouldn’t get books like this – raw emotion and stunning experimental prose without the commercial filter. And the book community is certainly a much better place for it.
Why I Picked This Up
I reviewed A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell, the book that precedes this. You don’t have to read it first, though I do recommend it.
It was a bit of a mindfuck, dragging me through all human emotion; raw, honest, bleak and yet carrying a hopefulness through it all. Liminal Monster builds on that and proved an even more rewarding challenge.
The Good Stuff
Liminal Monster is a unique book that tested me as a reader, both emotionally and practically in terms of adapting to a largely unfamiliar fragmented style.
"They say monstrous things are often painted gold."
I imagine a joy of being a self published author is the freedom to try something bold, inventive, different. Tarzian certainly does this here, with a dual storytelling device; one thread being the fever dream-like darkness of Self and Sempiternity. The other being a more grounded but no less raw memoir style device. The latter is easier to follow (the effort is worth it regardless) yet the former is exquisite in its execution.
There is a gorgeous poetry to Tarzian’s prose and it sucks you into the darkness and at times gothic feeling oneiric tendrils he weaves through the book. There are metaphors to dissect and simply the beauty of language to appreciate. Some passages contain possibly the most beautiful combination of words I’ve ever read. And the words would come alive even more if spoken aloud; I feel like they deserve to be given voice.
Of course, this has to be contrasted with huge boners and ice cream cones appearing from ass cheeks… who else but Tarzian?
There’s also a cat called Pisswhisker McKeen.
How else though to handle the heavy themes, having shone a flashlight into the soul of a human being dealing with heart-wrenching loss and loneliness?
There are a lot of striking and deeply honest parts of this book that will resonate strongly with people who have been through all the degrees of heartache and it gives experiencing this book a sense of depth, poignancy and weirdly, a sense of calmness and tranquility too.
There is a freedom in living alone made all the more profound by having spent the last two years living alone, together.
Things to Know
Despite Tarzian being a fantasy author, this isn’t a fantasy book – it’s an emotional mindscape in disguise.
Then again, there is a fantastic metaphorical sequence in a decaying city towards the end of the book that feels straight from a souls game.
Although there are fantasy elements throughout, it���s more of a psychedelic foray into a tortured mind and the fever dream style in parts as well as unabashed honesty about grief and mental health may mean this book might not be right for you. It’s a challenge to follow at times but worth the perseverance for sure. Imagine those times your mind feels like it’s left your body and you come back to lucidity wondering where you just went and you have a little of the vibe you’ll experience.
I wouldn’t say that you shouldn’t read if you’re struggling mentally. It could have quite the cathartic effect, in fact. When I’m struggling, bearing witness to other human beings fighting against grief and dismay and finding inner strength and resilience can be incredibly inspiring and this book certainly has this quality.
Final Thoughts
Rarely are people brave enough to open the depths of their souls to themselves, let alone to the anonymous reader.
In a world of shallow books made for entertainment, it can be really rewarding experiencing something truly emotive and full of depth and challenging yourself as a reader.
If self publishing didn’t exist, we wouldn’t get books like this – raw emotion and stunning experimental prose without the commercial filter. And the book community is certainly a much better place for it.
January 1, 2026
Liminal Monster is like walking through a nightmare that is stalking its protagonist. Wreathed in Poe-like prose, and full of insane entities, this book shows that when it comes to the hell of grief, the only way out is through. Whether being terrified by the parchment man, or chuckling at the antics of a foul-mouthed cat, the further the story goes the more it mesmerizes.
July 3, 2025
grimoireinkreviews.wordpress.com
So it seems Luke Tarzian is doing his utmost to recreate the heartache of writing, which paralleled an emotionally traumatic event in his life, in order to leave this reader in a stunned and contemplative state.
The allegory with which he composed this story is quite profound, and his mastery of language has once again surged to the fore. He dipped his quill into the inkwell of pain, and poured it into a tale fraught with emotional horrors, and a stark reveal of what the effects on his psyche were.
How for an author, each discarding of a potential story becomes another corpse, a ghost, a spectre, which in the case of this novella mirrors his personal life’s sundering. The exposure he granted to his suffering, which stemmed from the shattering of his marriage, which followed so closely on the heels of the death of his mother, is an intimate place of vulnerability I was almost ashamed to witness. The way through this tangle of looming forests and ashen vistas is nothing short of cathartic.
It has left me with a profound revelation; Luke is a force to be reckoned with. He has cemented himself in the echelons of noir and horror, with an exquisite mastery of prose to rival the likes of Poe. I truly hope he gets the recognition he has earned with his recent offerings to the literary world. I shall now go sit and contemplate life for a bit, and snuggle my doggo while I wade from the grips of his pen.
So it seems Luke Tarzian is doing his utmost to recreate the heartache of writing, which paralleled an emotionally traumatic event in his life, in order to leave this reader in a stunned and contemplative state.
The allegory with which he composed this story is quite profound, and his mastery of language has once again surged to the fore. He dipped his quill into the inkwell of pain, and poured it into a tale fraught with emotional horrors, and a stark reveal of what the effects on his psyche were.
How for an author, each discarding of a potential story becomes another corpse, a ghost, a spectre, which in the case of this novella mirrors his personal life’s sundering. The exposure he granted to his suffering, which stemmed from the shattering of his marriage, which followed so closely on the heels of the death of his mother, is an intimate place of vulnerability I was almost ashamed to witness. The way through this tangle of looming forests and ashen vistas is nothing short of cathartic.
It has left me with a profound revelation; Luke is a force to be reckoned with. He has cemented himself in the echelons of noir and horror, with an exquisite mastery of prose to rival the likes of Poe. I truly hope he gets the recognition he has earned with his recent offerings to the literary world. I shall now go sit and contemplate life for a bit, and snuggle my doggo while I wade from the grips of his pen.
December 9, 2025
Liminal Monster is about loss, grief, delusion and a horny, imaginary talking cat.
It’s hard to categorize a book like Liminal Monster, and intentionally and rightfully so. It’s split between the first-person perspective of mentally unwell, grief stricken and seemingly hallucinating author who’s struggling with alcohol, therapy and being haunted by the characters in his unfinished novels, and the third-person perspective of a fantastical entity called Self, who lives in a nonreal (but possibly deeply Real) realm assailed by pain. It’s not that Liminal Monster doesn’t fit neatly into a genre, though it doesn’t. It’s more that it, like the issues its tackling, thrashes and fights and changes shape and refuses to be categorized by anyone who faces it honestly.
Tonally,Liminal Monster shifts back and forth. It’s contemplative and brooding, it’s fantastical and whimsical, it’s beautiful and absurd, all in terms, sometimes within the same short scene, sometimes on the same page. So few writers could pull that off without creating a chaotic mess, but Luke Tarzian pulls it off masterfully, keeping you hooked as you navigate the ever-shifting mania his protagonist can’t seem to escape from.
Grief and mental illness can make our minds weird places, and that can make our behaviour hard to parse. It was hard for me to tell at various points in the story if the protagonist’s changing behaviour was due to his deteriorating mental health or something else, and I found it hard to take a lot of his decisions seriously as the book went on and he seemed to change so much. The book is set over a long time, and his delusions get worse as time goes on, and I wasn’t always satisfied with the characterization in those sections. I would never sit here and say that someone who is struggling should arrange their thoughts and behaviour in a way that’s legible to me, but affectively as a reader, I struggle with a story where the protagonist’s thoughts and actions feel erratic and aimless.
There’s more than one way to read the events of this novella. It seems that we’re supposed to take away that all of the fantastical elements are delusions experienced by the protagonist, but certainly one could read them and think there’s some reality to them. Are the worlds and people and things that artists create and that occupy their minds real? What is real anyway? The book seems to ask that of us repeatedly even as it tells us (part of) the answer: grief, loss, the people we love and the things we do when we lose them, those are real.
Liminal Monster is full of gorgeous, lush prose, with sentences that twist and dance and ooze meaning. Nobody can fault Tarzian’s ability to create a beautiful sentence or paragraph, to shock his reader with an unexpected image, or to wield metaphor like a knife. I did find at various points in Liminal Monster that there was almost too much of this. It’s gorgeous to read, but it’s also almost every sentence in the book, and I love a cascading, biting sentence as much as anyone, but there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing—if every sentence in the book is beautiful, it does run the risk that the beauty will become unremarkable. That’s, after all, what sets it apart from most books in the first place, it’s so remarkably different from them all. Liminal Monster is never boring, but I admit I found myself struggling not to skim sentences in the last quarter. I read it all in one sitting; maybe it’s a book where taking a few breaks is beneficial, even if it’s short.
Unlike a lot of novellas, Liminal Monster feels like it’s exactly the right length. It’s long enough to be satisfying but short enough that the conceit of it doesn’t wear out its welcome before the end. It’s well constructed and paced, and the way the two parts of the story interact, with the ‘real’ timeline lasting years and the ‘fantasy’ timeline seeming very compressed, is fascinating to consider the ramifications of. It’s fascinating to consider the ramifications of most of what happens in Liminal Monster, and it’s a book that’s sure to provoke a lot of reflection from its reader.
It’s hard to categorize a book like Liminal Monster, and intentionally and rightfully so. It’s split between the first-person perspective of mentally unwell, grief stricken and seemingly hallucinating author who’s struggling with alcohol, therapy and being haunted by the characters in his unfinished novels, and the third-person perspective of a fantastical entity called Self, who lives in a nonreal (but possibly deeply Real) realm assailed by pain. It’s not that Liminal Monster doesn’t fit neatly into a genre, though it doesn’t. It’s more that it, like the issues its tackling, thrashes and fights and changes shape and refuses to be categorized by anyone who faces it honestly.
Tonally,Liminal Monster shifts back and forth. It’s contemplative and brooding, it’s fantastical and whimsical, it’s beautiful and absurd, all in terms, sometimes within the same short scene, sometimes on the same page. So few writers could pull that off without creating a chaotic mess, but Luke Tarzian pulls it off masterfully, keeping you hooked as you navigate the ever-shifting mania his protagonist can’t seem to escape from.
Grief and mental illness can make our minds weird places, and that can make our behaviour hard to parse. It was hard for me to tell at various points in the story if the protagonist’s changing behaviour was due to his deteriorating mental health or something else, and I found it hard to take a lot of his decisions seriously as the book went on and he seemed to change so much. The book is set over a long time, and his delusions get worse as time goes on, and I wasn’t always satisfied with the characterization in those sections. I would never sit here and say that someone who is struggling should arrange their thoughts and behaviour in a way that’s legible to me, but affectively as a reader, I struggle with a story where the protagonist’s thoughts and actions feel erratic and aimless.
There’s more than one way to read the events of this novella. It seems that we’re supposed to take away that all of the fantastical elements are delusions experienced by the protagonist, but certainly one could read them and think there’s some reality to them. Are the worlds and people and things that artists create and that occupy their minds real? What is real anyway? The book seems to ask that of us repeatedly even as it tells us (part of) the answer: grief, loss, the people we love and the things we do when we lose them, those are real.
Liminal Monster is full of gorgeous, lush prose, with sentences that twist and dance and ooze meaning. Nobody can fault Tarzian’s ability to create a beautiful sentence or paragraph, to shock his reader with an unexpected image, or to wield metaphor like a knife. I did find at various points in Liminal Monster that there was almost too much of this. It’s gorgeous to read, but it’s also almost every sentence in the book, and I love a cascading, biting sentence as much as anyone, but there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing—if every sentence in the book is beautiful, it does run the risk that the beauty will become unremarkable. That’s, after all, what sets it apart from most books in the first place, it’s so remarkably different from them all. Liminal Monster is never boring, but I admit I found myself struggling not to skim sentences in the last quarter. I read it all in one sitting; maybe it’s a book where taking a few breaks is beneficial, even if it’s short.
Unlike a lot of novellas, Liminal Monster feels like it’s exactly the right length. It’s long enough to be satisfying but short enough that the conceit of it doesn’t wear out its welcome before the end. It’s well constructed and paced, and the way the two parts of the story interact, with the ‘real’ timeline lasting years and the ‘fantasy’ timeline seeming very compressed, is fascinating to consider the ramifications of. It’s fascinating to consider the ramifications of most of what happens in Liminal Monster, and it’s a book that’s sure to provoke a lot of reflection from its reader.
June 15, 2025
ARC received for free in return for an honest review!
I was not prepared for this one on ANY level, and that's with the knowledge of reading the (kinda) companion title A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell last year!(Which if you have not read, what are you doing, go read it)
It's rare that I feel my grasp of the English language is insufficient to communicate my thoughts and examine my feelings, but this is one such occasion.
Luke however does not appear to have the same challenge as I. Once again delving into how we cope/avoid dealing with grief and trauma, this is an often dark, occasionally hopeful,regularly psychedelic trip that touches on how avoidance of a feeling can be a literal poison to the soul,with off the wall imagery and mined from the horrifying to the fantastical, and all points in between, but still pulling into 'normal' day to day moments as well as an effective counterbalance, before finding another deep end to throw itself off.
Is this a book for everyone, probably not, but whilst reading I recognised so many things in here that were, and still are relevant to my own mental health journey over the last decade,and that makes it absolutely 100% a book for me.
I was not prepared for this one on ANY level, and that's with the knowledge of reading the (kinda) companion title A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell last year!(Which if you have not read, what are you doing, go read it)
It's rare that I feel my grasp of the English language is insufficient to communicate my thoughts and examine my feelings, but this is one such occasion.
Luke however does not appear to have the same challenge as I. Once again delving into how we cope/avoid dealing with grief and trauma, this is an often dark, occasionally hopeful,regularly psychedelic trip that touches on how avoidance of a feeling can be a literal poison to the soul,with off the wall imagery and mined from the horrifying to the fantastical, and all points in between, but still pulling into 'normal' day to day moments as well as an effective counterbalance, before finding another deep end to throw itself off.
Is this a book for everyone, probably not, but whilst reading I recognised so many things in here that were, and still are relevant to my own mental health journey over the last decade,and that makes it absolutely 100% a book for me.
June 8, 2025
‘Healing isn’t linear. And grief will always be. But you need not always fear that monster in between.’
A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell a prequel of sorts, although both could be read independently – although why would you rob yourself of the chance to experience both aspects of this part memoir, part fantastical exploration? That one was a gut punch to the stomach, raw emotions, crafted into a story that would resonate differently with each reader, but had the power to tear tears out of everyone.
Liminal Monster follows on in that vein, but in some ways this one felt softer. More melancholic in places, but reflective, in the way of the quiet that follows grief. The quiet after loss. A space that can be filled at any moment with life, or rage or grief, or any one of the myriad emotions that can flood into that space. In some ways it made me think of standing at the edge of the water and tossing in pebbles to see the ripples, with each one causing different ripples that overlapped just a little with the one before, only these pebbles are moments, some real, some fantastical, fantasy stories wrapped up in the chaos and trappings of real life. But, in the wake of each there was a feeling of peace, of hope, of healing.
That isn’t to say Liminal Monster is lacking in the dark, twisted violence that is present across Tarzian’s body of work. Life and death in an endless, intimate dance, marked by blood and violence; and softened by absurdism, and a humour that is all Tarzian. The fantastical parts in particular delve very much into the darkness, a soul fighting its demons across the pages, and those were the moments that swept me up the most, that posed the questions that sometimes need that distance, that slight step back from reality to be asked, and to be answered. Yet, some of the more personal moments, were wrapped in the chaos and absurdity that can only come from reality; and really that coexistence, contradictor and complimentary all at once, breaths power into the title.
What Tarzian also demonstrates is that fantasy is as close a step to the left of the beaten past, or looking through slightly different eyes, and as far away as a distant world beyond a portal. And that reality can be as strange as fantasy, and fantay as deep and emotionally relevant as reality.
“It matters not,” the portal groans. “The guilt will always call you back. Ink is permanent; you cannot erase what once had form.”
This line delighted me – for anyone who has read Tarzian’s other works will recognise the line; and here, with the weight of reality bearing down it directly it takes on fresh meaning. It’s amazing to see this seed amongst all the other seeds of creativity that are scattered throughout Liminal Monster; and to see how the understanding of emotions, of how grief works and lingers, haunting unexpected moments bears out in the other books when the characters fight to reclaim those they’ve lost.
Liminal Monster builds on a Cup of Tea at the Mouth Hell, but is also entirely its own beast. Here we see the curtain pulled back on the fertile ground that has brought forth some of the most profound, disturbing and enchanting works by Tarzian, but also has filled a cemetary with abandoned, forgotten and lost stories. Here we are given not only a mediation on grief in all its complexities, the highs and lows of moving forward in it’s shadow, and when the sun shines that bit brighter; but also a profoundly intimate look at creativity, both as a reaction to life and grief, but also growing from it.
Tarzian has written another masterpiece here, one that refuses, like it’s namesake to be corralled into a single definition or genre. With ink and paper, and blood and tears, we are given a tale that is as real as it is fantastical, and both deeply personal and intimate, and yet a mirror, that is capable of reflecting not the face of the reader – but the truth of their own map of grief and other raw emotions. It takes incredible skill, and deep wellspring of understanding of emotion and creativity to create a book like this; and it takes Tarzian to transform that into something that is as absurd as it is serious, as melancholic as it is hopeful, as raw and angry in grief, as it is soft and lost; and even more to let the sun rise in the wake.
A fantastic book that will linger far past the final page turning. A book that maps out grief in all its complexities, through valleys and over mountains. Liminal Monster is a powerful read, that will resonate differently with each reader and with each reading. Both a memoir and mirror, a nightmare and a dream.
A Cup of Tea at the Mouth of Hell a prequel of sorts, although both could be read independently – although why would you rob yourself of the chance to experience both aspects of this part memoir, part fantastical exploration? That one was a gut punch to the stomach, raw emotions, crafted into a story that would resonate differently with each reader, but had the power to tear tears out of everyone.
Liminal Monster follows on in that vein, but in some ways this one felt softer. More melancholic in places, but reflective, in the way of the quiet that follows grief. The quiet after loss. A space that can be filled at any moment with life, or rage or grief, or any one of the myriad emotions that can flood into that space. In some ways it made me think of standing at the edge of the water and tossing in pebbles to see the ripples, with each one causing different ripples that overlapped just a little with the one before, only these pebbles are moments, some real, some fantastical, fantasy stories wrapped up in the chaos and trappings of real life. But, in the wake of each there was a feeling of peace, of hope, of healing.
That isn’t to say Liminal Monster is lacking in the dark, twisted violence that is present across Tarzian’s body of work. Life and death in an endless, intimate dance, marked by blood and violence; and softened by absurdism, and a humour that is all Tarzian. The fantastical parts in particular delve very much into the darkness, a soul fighting its demons across the pages, and those were the moments that swept me up the most, that posed the questions that sometimes need that distance, that slight step back from reality to be asked, and to be answered. Yet, some of the more personal moments, were wrapped in the chaos and absurdity that can only come from reality; and really that coexistence, contradictor and complimentary all at once, breaths power into the title.
What Tarzian also demonstrates is that fantasy is as close a step to the left of the beaten past, or looking through slightly different eyes, and as far away as a distant world beyond a portal. And that reality can be as strange as fantasy, and fantay as deep and emotionally relevant as reality.
“It matters not,” the portal groans. “The guilt will always call you back. Ink is permanent; you cannot erase what once had form.”
This line delighted me – for anyone who has read Tarzian’s other works will recognise the line; and here, with the weight of reality bearing down it directly it takes on fresh meaning. It’s amazing to see this seed amongst all the other seeds of creativity that are scattered throughout Liminal Monster; and to see how the understanding of emotions, of how grief works and lingers, haunting unexpected moments bears out in the other books when the characters fight to reclaim those they’ve lost.
Liminal Monster builds on a Cup of Tea at the Mouth Hell, but is also entirely its own beast. Here we see the curtain pulled back on the fertile ground that has brought forth some of the most profound, disturbing and enchanting works by Tarzian, but also has filled a cemetary with abandoned, forgotten and lost stories. Here we are given not only a mediation on grief in all its complexities, the highs and lows of moving forward in it’s shadow, and when the sun shines that bit brighter; but also a profoundly intimate look at creativity, both as a reaction to life and grief, but also growing from it.
Tarzian has written another masterpiece here, one that refuses, like it’s namesake to be corralled into a single definition or genre. With ink and paper, and blood and tears, we are given a tale that is as real as it is fantastical, and both deeply personal and intimate, and yet a mirror, that is capable of reflecting not the face of the reader – but the truth of their own map of grief and other raw emotions. It takes incredible skill, and deep wellspring of understanding of emotion and creativity to create a book like this; and it takes Tarzian to transform that into something that is as absurd as it is serious, as melancholic as it is hopeful, as raw and angry in grief, as it is soft and lost; and even more to let the sun rise in the wake.
A fantastic book that will linger far past the final page turning. A book that maps out grief in all its complexities, through valleys and over mountains. Liminal Monster is a powerful read, that will resonate differently with each reader and with each reading. Both a memoir and mirror, a nightmare and a dream.
October 19, 2025
Luke's writing is phenomenal! While this is a shorter book it packs a hell of a punch. if what you're looking for is emotion and emotional writing these books should rocket to the top of your TBR
September 5, 2025
A twisting, vivid, strange ride through an examination of trauma. Tarzian’s prose shines here, though occasionally gets in its own way. Metaphor drips through every page. There is a strong sense of the Soulsborne aesthetic, with eldritch monstrosities popping up at every turn and even the protagonist(s?) carrying their own malformed elements.
But it finds its way, and the metaphors provide satisfying closure. A very very solid novella with some moments of true genius as tentpoles.
But it finds its way, and the metaphors provide satisfying closure. A very very solid novella with some moments of true genius as tentpoles.
August 7, 2025
my ARC review of Luminal Monster, my thanks to Luke for gifting me my copy for a honest review
Luminal monster is the sequel of sorts to Lukes earier novella a cup of tea at the mouth of hell, which despite the rather comedy sounding name is a emotional mind fuck that draws from Lukes past mental health issues and struggles with the death of his mother(issues that also form a central part here)
The book is split between 2 view points, in one a first person look at a struggling author trying to face up to their issues,
The other a more fantasy style world in 3rd person to a character called self, I'm not the biggest fan of switching between 1st and 3rd for different viewpoints tbh but it's never been a deal breaker and Luke handles it well enough
there's a early scene where the character goes through thought processes with prescriped pills, will he become addicted, is taking pills forever something to be ashamed off,thoughts I and no doubt many others have had themselves. It's just one of many quotable scenes that will really strike for those who have been there in particular
And just when I felt like I wanted to give the real luke a hug, I read as he walks through the woods wishing for a fawn ala narnia, but instead meets a satyr with and I quote "the biggest fucking boner I have ever seen" (it's been a while tbf but I'm pretty sure c.s Lewis includes no such thing)
It's similar to cup of tea in that with both Luke has a skill for blending the emotionally destroying with the batshit insane and(in no doubt thanks to his excellent prose) it really works. And there's a wicked sense of humour to it that helps to dilute the pain.
I should note though that while I've said I really connected to it due to my own mental health, there's times where I struggle to read during bad spells and just end up reinstalling ffx for the millionth time so it may depend on the person and how affected you feel
But overall, this is def worth a read(and I didn't even mention pisswhisker the cat) and will be out soon(27th of august
Luminal monster is the sequel of sorts to Lukes earier novella a cup of tea at the mouth of hell, which despite the rather comedy sounding name is a emotional mind fuck that draws from Lukes past mental health issues and struggles with the death of his mother(issues that also form a central part here)
The book is split between 2 view points, in one a first person look at a struggling author trying to face up to their issues,
The other a more fantasy style world in 3rd person to a character called self, I'm not the biggest fan of switching between 1st and 3rd for different viewpoints tbh but it's never been a deal breaker and Luke handles it well enough
there's a early scene where the character goes through thought processes with prescriped pills, will he become addicted, is taking pills forever something to be ashamed off,thoughts I and no doubt many others have had themselves. It's just one of many quotable scenes that will really strike for those who have been there in particular
And just when I felt like I wanted to give the real luke a hug, I read as he walks through the woods wishing for a fawn ala narnia, but instead meets a satyr with and I quote "the biggest fucking boner I have ever seen" (it's been a while tbf but I'm pretty sure c.s Lewis includes no such thing)
It's similar to cup of tea in that with both Luke has a skill for blending the emotionally destroying with the batshit insane and(in no doubt thanks to his excellent prose) it really works. And there's a wicked sense of humour to it that helps to dilute the pain.
I should note though that while I've said I really connected to it due to my own mental health, there's times where I struggle to read during bad spells and just end up reinstalling ffx for the millionth time so it may depend on the person and how affected you feel
But overall, this is def worth a read(and I didn't even mention pisswhisker the cat) and will be out soon(27th of august
August 2, 2025
Wow, Liminal Monster a novella is a dark, hauntingly raw emotional read that cuts deep and will fester for a long time and leave you of awe of author Luke Tarzians mastery craftsmanship.
There are some books that can affect its readers mentally, but not in a bad way. Liminal Monster is a book that i needed after losing one of the closest people in my life. My Dad recently, and this one resonated with me personally in dealing with grief, pain, and loss of someone so dear.
What absolutely love about a Luke Tarzians writing is that he takes you on a mad trip down the rabbit hole to where you don't know where you'll end up, either in hell drinking tea with the devil or in a whisky induced with a talking cat for company as you travel the pages in a state of wanderlust.
I truly believe Luke Tarzian is the mad hatter of writing. His penmanship is out of this world. The way he weaves and crafts his writing is like poetry. Like a young Edgar Allan Poe esquire. The worldbuilding and dark setting are wonderful. Time and time again, he creates characters that are just mad and mental, and I just love them.
In this dark horror story with a minimal touch of fantasy. We follow the life of an author whose life is turned upside down through grief and loss and a relationship breakdown leading to madness. When his writing and works hauntingly come to life, bringing him on a mad journey through a boozed haze of sadness and loneliness. Traped in the makings of his own mind like a prison from hell. Can he navigate and get back to some normality and meaningful back in his life? Check it out to find out if you won't regret it.
If you haven't read any of Luke Tarzians' books, you are missing out. His prose is magically lyrical and beautifully written.
His work deserves a lot more recognition. And if you're into dark whimsical characters and just some good, wonderful storytelling. Then I can't highly recommend enough....🥃🔥☕️😁
There are some books that can affect its readers mentally, but not in a bad way. Liminal Monster is a book that i needed after losing one of the closest people in my life. My Dad recently, and this one resonated with me personally in dealing with grief, pain, and loss of someone so dear.
What absolutely love about a Luke Tarzians writing is that he takes you on a mad trip down the rabbit hole to where you don't know where you'll end up, either in hell drinking tea with the devil or in a whisky induced with a talking cat for company as you travel the pages in a state of wanderlust.
I truly believe Luke Tarzian is the mad hatter of writing. His penmanship is out of this world. The way he weaves and crafts his writing is like poetry. Like a young Edgar Allan Poe esquire. The worldbuilding and dark setting are wonderful. Time and time again, he creates characters that are just mad and mental, and I just love them.
In this dark horror story with a minimal touch of fantasy. We follow the life of an author whose life is turned upside down through grief and loss and a relationship breakdown leading to madness. When his writing and works hauntingly come to life, bringing him on a mad journey through a boozed haze of sadness and loneliness. Traped in the makings of his own mind like a prison from hell. Can he navigate and get back to some normality and meaningful back in his life? Check it out to find out if you won't regret it.
If you haven't read any of Luke Tarzians' books, you are missing out. His prose is magically lyrical and beautifully written.
His work deserves a lot more recognition. And if you're into dark whimsical characters and just some good, wonderful storytelling. Then I can't highly recommend enough....🥃🔥☕️😁
July 4, 2025
First of all, I want to thank the author for this eARC.
I love being able to discover new voices, new stories, new universes. And this novella really gave me something new to process, to digest.
Liminal Monster is a difficult read, but in all the good ways. The kinds that really makes you think and feel, stop reading mid-sentence to indulge the memories that forced their way into your head.
It speaks very crudely about pain, grief, sorrow and loss. And if the words manage to resonate with you, I have to warn you : they will hit VERY hard.
But as always, as darkness wouldn’t exist without light, pain wouldn’t exist without joy and hope.
And even if in this book, their glow is faint, they are present nonetheless.
Long story short, it was a powerful, difficult, unsettling story that was written with the author’s guts, one of the most realistic novella I’ve ever read despite its chaotic and cryptic nature for the most part (that, I have to admit, sometimes left me a little on the side of the road)
It was a short but very intense ride I won’t forget soon.
And I truly hope the author’s in a better place, now. Stuff like that can’t be imagined by someone who was never in “those” places.
A great read, but a hard one.
I love being able to discover new voices, new stories, new universes. And this novella really gave me something new to process, to digest.
Liminal Monster is a difficult read, but in all the good ways. The kinds that really makes you think and feel, stop reading mid-sentence to indulge the memories that forced their way into your head.
It speaks very crudely about pain, grief, sorrow and loss. And if the words manage to resonate with you, I have to warn you : they will hit VERY hard.
But as always, as darkness wouldn’t exist without light, pain wouldn’t exist without joy and hope.
And even if in this book, their glow is faint, they are present nonetheless.
Long story short, it was a powerful, difficult, unsettling story that was written with the author’s guts, one of the most realistic novella I’ve ever read despite its chaotic and cryptic nature for the most part (that, I have to admit, sometimes left me a little on the side of the road)
It was a short but very intense ride I won’t forget soon.
And I truly hope the author’s in a better place, now. Stuff like that can’t be imagined by someone who was never in “those” places.
A great read, but a hard one.
Read
August 30, 2025rtc
September 13, 2025
Not bad, but at times it felt reading a whole book by Doctor Manhattan.
October 6, 2025
Jeez...this is pretty much poetry disguised as a horror novella.
The prose, the lyrical language, the tortured soul POV's are just all stunning.
Beautiful and tragic.
My rating is 4.25
The prose, the lyrical language, the tortured soul POV's are just all stunning.
Beautiful and tragic.
My rating is 4.25
August 27, 2025
"For once, a gentler end."
My rating: 4.25 ⭐️ / 5
Format: Advanced Reader Copy
Luke Tarzian's "Liminal Monster" is a masterful example of a dichotomy between confessional reality and fever-dream fantasy reflective of his writing style, reminiscent of the works of Tanith Lee and Neil Gaiman. His willingness to dismantle narrative norms and challenge the emotional resilience through the strange internal logic of the setting he's crafted frames the story as more of an ever-twisting fairy tale than a typical horror story.
A disclaimer is due that the only other story I've read from Luke Tarzian is "The World-Maker Parable", and it's safe to say that he has stepped up in many aspects after his previous outing, particularly in the presentation of the tale itself.
A large remainder of the story takes turns swinging the pendulum between the "reality" and the fantastical, allowing a nuanced view of the setting Tarzian has crafted across his previous works.
The more "fantastical" third-person POV character ("Self") is one that is familiar with the dreamlike quality and mythos of the setting, yet still a bit emotionally distant from it, which complements the internal logic of the setting with an engaging personal journey that anchors the reader.
The first-person narration set in "reality", meanwhile, starts off a bit too heavy handed with long stretches of daunting and slightly repetitive therapy sessions where the narrator exposits his feelings and qualms in great detail, but swiftly shifts gear to the realm of fantasy through several unabashedly profane characters (boners! ice-cream-from-ass-cheeks!).
The two tales running parallel which take up most of the book evokes a lived-in world which has experienced its own history way past the words described in the pages, taking the reader through them with the trust that both journeys would lead to their inevitable conclusions, which did for the most part, other than a few segments which suddenly shift to a grand narrative of holy inquisitions and eternal servitude to rotting gods - ambitious, but might be a bit late in the narrative for some readers.
Overall, "Liminal Monster" is a challenging but cathartic journey - an emotional labyrinth in which you willingly surrender to Tarzian’s bold formal choices and let the juxtaposition of therapy-room confession and surreal fantasy carve new paths for reflection, in which lies the liminal spaces of grief and imagination, along with unearthing the monster that resides within them.
My rating: 4.25 ⭐️ / 5
Format: Advanced Reader Copy
Luke Tarzian's "Liminal Monster" is a masterful example of a dichotomy between confessional reality and fever-dream fantasy reflective of his writing style, reminiscent of the works of Tanith Lee and Neil Gaiman. His willingness to dismantle narrative norms and challenge the emotional resilience through the strange internal logic of the setting he's crafted frames the story as more of an ever-twisting fairy tale than a typical horror story.
A disclaimer is due that the only other story I've read from Luke Tarzian is "The World-Maker Parable", and it's safe to say that he has stepped up in many aspects after his previous outing, particularly in the presentation of the tale itself.
A large remainder of the story takes turns swinging the pendulum between the "reality" and the fantastical, allowing a nuanced view of the setting Tarzian has crafted across his previous works.
The more "fantastical" third-person POV character ("Self") is one that is familiar with the dreamlike quality and mythos of the setting, yet still a bit emotionally distant from it, which complements the internal logic of the setting with an engaging personal journey that anchors the reader.
The first-person narration set in "reality", meanwhile, starts off a bit too heavy handed with long stretches of daunting and slightly repetitive therapy sessions where the narrator exposits his feelings and qualms in great detail, but swiftly shifts gear to the realm of fantasy through several unabashedly profane characters (boners! ice-cream-from-ass-cheeks!).
The two tales running parallel which take up most of the book evokes a lived-in world which has experienced its own history way past the words described in the pages, taking the reader through them with the trust that both journeys would lead to their inevitable conclusions, which did for the most part, other than a few segments which suddenly shift to a grand narrative of holy inquisitions and eternal servitude to rotting gods - ambitious, but might be a bit late in the narrative for some readers.
Overall, "Liminal Monster" is a challenging but cathartic journey - an emotional labyrinth in which you willingly surrender to Tarzian’s bold formal choices and let the juxtaposition of therapy-room confession and surreal fantasy carve new paths for reflection, in which lies the liminal spaces of grief and imagination, along with unearthing the monster that resides within them.
Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews