Bodycount

by Manuel Marrero

Bodycount is the third novel by Manuel Marrero.

176 pages, Paperback

Published October 21, 2025

Reviews

[liv g · Rating 5 out of 5]

beautiful epic poem about the pain of letting go

[Jesse Hilson · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was so startling and challenging and moving. Imagine a novel with all of its skeleton (plot, character identifications, etc) removed. Deboned. So you are left with thoughts and feelings and spiritual substance. This isn’t to say that thr novel had no point of view. In many ways it’s all point of view, it’s very strong in that way. But you’re not clear, exactly, on who is speaking. It’s inchoate, it could be a whole city speaking, yammering, or a tumultuous individual comprised of many cross-sections of voices. I said somewhere that it seemed like a novel written by New York City itself on the cusp of electing Zohran Mamdani — and hating it. This is not on its surface, a feel good book. It has terrifying claws. And yet there is a deep abiding peace at work. This is one of the most Christian books I recall reading which has come out of the despair of our “Wolven Times” (ie, the times of COVID). The coronavirus damn near destroyed the world that is mourned over in this novel. Its repercussions are still being felt, its tormenting waves. The novel seems to be from a hyper linguistic millennial man’s perspective as he learns how to readjust, with wrenching pain and suffering, his views on women, in the light of letting Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit into his life. It is nakedly Catholic at the end. This guy was a player. Plot spoiler: Now he’s a repentant sinner, a figure of great contrition who still has a lot of anger toward the world. This is a tremendously angry book. It has shocking passages that might turn readers off. It is politically edgy and not an easy pill to swallow. There’s some kind of — I want to call it decadence, but that’s not the right word — some kind of “Off beat” political undercurrents at work in New York City that are countercultural, that were only increased in amplitude by COVID and all the lockdowns and all the authoritarian trappings. The city has some very deep red conservatives who feel betrayed by policy makers and end up breathing a very righteous fiery dragon’s breath in all directions. I might be very ignorant but it was hard to establish if this novel’s voices were all coming from one personality, or whether that mattered. The book needs to be read on its own idiosyncratic, dream-like terms. It’s not easy. One outstanding feature is the creatively raw, at times clever and funny, but always bruising linguistic risks the prose takes. The words and phrases here from Marrero are lacerating and hardly ever stop to check if you are okay, if you can keep upright and continue the journey. I can’t admire enough, or be startled enough, by the vigor and insistence on Jesus Christ as a Catholic experience that the novel brings, out of a deep darkness. That’s giving things away perhaps. But God is in the beginning and God is in the end, fittingly for an alpha-omega being. This is a true testimony, a lyrical poem of a pilgrim’s journey, and the pilgrim has razor-sharp teeth all the way through, be careful you are not cut.