What do you think?
Rate this book
Daughters of Apostasy
An act of trespass, the subtle topology of an opulent hotel, a lengthy composition involving an exiled abbess, a letter mailed to an unknown recipient, a border station concealed by inexplicable winds, an antiquated electronic game, a rite of passage modulated by a metronome, a Gnostic heresy, a ruined church, an employee engaged in illicit acts of passion: by these and several other devices do the daughters of apostasy seek to irritate the vessels of the earth. Strange wine may be distilled thereby, and thus might the obsessive aspirant perceive the tenets of a hidden doctrine.
In these five stories and novellas, the intrigues and stratagems of interlopers, initiates, poets, and bibliophiles are revealed in all their illicit splendor. By way of complex and labyrinthine routes do they come to obtain impossible relics not known even among the kings of the earth.
In these five stories and novellas, the intrigues and stratagems of interlopers, initiates, poets, and bibliophiles are revealed in all their illicit splendor. By way of complex and labyrinthine routes do they come to obtain impossible relics not known even among the kings of the earth.
222 pages, Paperback
First published September 18, 2017
6 people are currently reading
319 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
July 3, 2017
Damian Murphy’s book” Daughters of Apostasy” is perhaps the best book I have read this year. Snuggly books should be thanked repeatedly for making such a fine decision to publish the work of Mr. Murphy.
The book consists of five stories reprinted from previous collections of his available from Ex-Occidente and quite difficult to obtain specifically the books “Infra Noir” and “A Distillate of Heresy”. The addition of one new long story, the final one in this outstanding collection , completes this book.
How Mr. Murphy is able to consistently walk the line between our world and pass over into that “other” unfamiliar reality that at times exists on just the other side of the mirror, doused with supernatural, occult and the strange in front of our eyes, is beyond what the most accomplished authors can achieve. He never enters into the world of horror. There is no blood, guts or gore, just the delicately strange.
In reading these stories it is important to pay attention to detail. The architecture of buildings, the hidden objects in a room, or the lizards that strongly explore the premises. Many things are hidden and remain just out of the peripheral view of the eye. The characters quest of knowledge and enlightenment leads them to places where they may not be able to return from.
It has been suggested that another collection of stories will become available next year from Snuggly, and this volume is Highly recommended.
Contents:
013 - "The Scourge and the Sanctuary"
037 - "Permutations of the Citadel"
079 - "The Salamander Angel" (Consisting of 12 sub-parts)
143 - "A Book of Alabaster"
160 - "The Music of Exile" (Consisting of 5 parts)
223 A Partial List of Snuggly Books
The first four pieces have previously appeared in collections published by Les Éditions de L’Oubli (Infra Noir and A Distillate of Heresy), while 'The Music of Exile', the longest story in the book, is new and has not been published elsewhere.
This hardcover book states it is one of 60 copies.
The book consists of five stories reprinted from previous collections of his available from Ex-Occidente and quite difficult to obtain specifically the books “Infra Noir” and “A Distillate of Heresy”. The addition of one new long story, the final one in this outstanding collection , completes this book.
How Mr. Murphy is able to consistently walk the line between our world and pass over into that “other” unfamiliar reality that at times exists on just the other side of the mirror, doused with supernatural, occult and the strange in front of our eyes, is beyond what the most accomplished authors can achieve. He never enters into the world of horror. There is no blood, guts or gore, just the delicately strange.
In reading these stories it is important to pay attention to detail. The architecture of buildings, the hidden objects in a room, or the lizards that strongly explore the premises. Many things are hidden and remain just out of the peripheral view of the eye. The characters quest of knowledge and enlightenment leads them to places where they may not be able to return from.
It has been suggested that another collection of stories will become available next year from Snuggly, and this volume is Highly recommended.
Contents:
013 - "The Scourge and the Sanctuary"
037 - "Permutations of the Citadel"
079 - "The Salamander Angel" (Consisting of 12 sub-parts)
143 - "A Book of Alabaster"
160 - "The Music of Exile" (Consisting of 5 parts)
223 A Partial List of Snuggly Books
The first four pieces have previously appeared in collections published by Les Éditions de L’Oubli (Infra Noir and A Distillate of Heresy), while 'The Music of Exile', the longest story in the book, is new and has not been published elsewhere.
This hardcover book states it is one of 60 copies.
May 3, 2021
"The Scourge and the Sanctuary" - an occultist breaks into an empty penthouse and finds that it is not empty and that you cannot trespass into a place that is your own home. This luxurious little story served as a reminder to me of the themes that entrance the author (and that entranced me, especially The Academy Outside of Ingolstadt)... intensely personal exploration of mysteries and Mysteries, occult spirituality as both practice and perspective, the mortification of the flesh as gateway to moving beyond this mortal coil, maps and meanings hidden within landscapes and architecture. The story also functions as an introduction, of sorts, to the tenets of Gnosticism and a rejoinder to the idea that "apostasy" is actually, well, apostasy. All in all, a pleasingly light read, he said sardonically, made all the more pleasant by the stylish violet prose and stylized artificiality that I've come to expect and always appreciate when reading this talented author.
"Permutations of the Citadel" - a desk clerk at an opulent hotel explores the strange physical dimensions of his workplace, inbetween the occasional rendezvous with a much older woman; meanwhile, his friend constructs elaborate yet obscure jests to play upon the hotel guests and the hotel itself. This was a tantalizing story of searching beyond the mirror for an alternate place, an alternate path. Studying maps and musing over measurements, traveling through various doors and entranceways, ascending strange staircases and descending onto stranger balconies the curious fellow goes, not sure of what he is looking for but seeking it nonetheless. I was reminded of the author's glittering Abyssinia, which portrays a similarly shifting landscape. Murphy has a bit of a misstep when detailing the words of a priestess encountered on the other side - much too literal, too explicit. Fortunately, the rest of this absorbing vignette is steeped in the ambiguity that I crave from such journeys.
"The Salamander Angel" - how can you not love that title? This is the most structurally ambitious piece that I've read yet from the author. "Salamander" juggles multiple perspectives, letters & articles, and a wry narrator in its depiction of various characters engaging in various occult activities in an unknown city. It all leads to a phantasmagorical finale (if "finale" can even be used - perhaps "beginning" is more appropriate) in which a meteoric lodestone, the demon star Algol (a personal favorite), and a statue of the titular angel herald transformation within and without. Astral projection, statues coming to life, bizarre letters sent and burned, portals opening, arcane rituals enacted, synaesthesia and Stendahl syndrome all have a happy home in this uplifting tale of people getting what they want. Reading this novella made me look forward to efforts of similar narrative complexity put out by Murphy. However, those other efforts will hopefully be reviewed by a more attentive editor! There are a number of disappointments on a technical level in the writing - errors that could have easily been corrected by an editor who cared enough to point out the misuse of certain words and who had the courage to tell this splendid occultist that sometimes his prose veered regrettably towards the self-parodic. Still, all in all, this was a very enjoyable story. And the most openly witty yet by Murphy.
"A Book of Alabaster" - an erudite loner plays a game that leads to strange places. Color me surprised to find a Damian Murphy story that is about a video game! I'm so used to more rarified settings from him, and would not have imagined that the interior of an outdated video game would prove to feature many of his hallmarks. I'm not remotely a gamer, so this story about an increasingly hallucinatory virtual adventure felt much more foreign to me than any baroque hotel could ever feel. Although a bit overwritten at times, the story effectively portrayed the protagonist's insular life, his questionable memories, and of course the landscape of the game itself. The imagery of a game avatar entering the body of a threatening, macroscopic angel that is all eyes and flame was wild. Despite retaining the motifs and themes of his other works, this is the most straightforward "tale of horror" that I've read so far from the author.
"The Music of Exile" - a poetess is instructed in the art of maintaining rather than traversing liminal space; a luminosity from within is displayed, feared, and at last understood; houses and altars are explored and evaluated; a radiant dawn is avoided and a radiant darkness is embraced.
At first I was discomfited to realize that I was actually reading a story about poetesses and their craft, with actual examples of their poems (never, ever my thing). But soon enough, I left that discomfort behind when in a flash I realized that this was the Damian Murphy who first enchanted me. Sadly, with that knowledge came an uncomfortable reevaluation of the prior stories. Alabaster's focus on the horror the horror, and its gotcha ending, suddenly felt rather cheap... Citadel's permutations and Sanctuary's scourges seemed like too-obvious warm-up exercises for superior works like Abyssinia and Ingolstadt and this story... Salamander's narrative complexity now seemed to be a path towards mainstream fiction (all that cross-cutting between various POVs!) that I am relieved Murphy chose not to take. Of course, I still enjoyed all of those tales, they all remain of value. Fun stuff.
But "Music of Exile" just feels so much more pure, so much more a distillation of what the author himself is all about. The oblique storytelling, the hypnotic cadence, the chilly characterization built from psychological ambiguity rather than from stylized caricature, the overtly formal dialogue, decadence and hallucinatory landscapes as givens rather than as goals, prose that is dreamily strange yet crystalline rather than lushly overripe and at times overly cooked, bizarre imagery that somehow feels bizarrely natural when placed within a tale that is less a narrative and more a spiritual journey, and above all, the calm even zen-like confidence on display. Although I'm a bit sad that this story revealed the preceding stories' flaws so clearly, I'm mainly delighted that the collection ended with such a masterful display of Murphy's skills. By the time I closed this book, my eyes were wide open again to his unique talents.
February 2, 2022
Once one becomes acquainted with Damian Murphy's writing, they can expect consistency of writing quality and prominent storytelling elements to recur through his other works. This is a decent place to start for this author, especially since the volume is easily obtainable at the moment. Several themes are common throughout his many novellas and stories, but most of all the entirety of his output is characterized by a looming twilight of scarcely concealed psychological terror.
In this volume, quirky characters delight in games of intellectual daring, and accept the oncoming of supernatural visions and metaphysical experiences in stride, yet they yearn for an escape from the mundane laws of our everyday environment and seek asylum in the occult fates awaiting them, rather than calling for help or simply fleeing from the abysses they cannot understand.
Even amidst solitary hours of contemplation and the indulgence in sinister pursuits, the author always provides thought-provoking analyses of human nature. With his richly detailed command of elegant textures he is able to effortlessly summon an aura of cozy horror, suffusing each literary delicacy with quiet radiance.
An appreciation for the mysteries of the cosmos, the thrill of encroaching upon a borderland, physical manifestations of mental aberrations and the invasion of another realm into our own—these are all accustomed territory for D. M. The imagery within the collection is unified and the tension consistent. The focal lenses of these stories engage in creative speculations involving spatial relationships, which to them, are more important than human interaction.
Also intriguing, the cover reveals subtle asymmetries that find their symbolic analogs in the text.
Consider "The Book of Alabaster," like the story "The Mansion of Sapphire" from another collection: Both are all-time favorites of mine. It recounts the adventures of an outsider protagonist in a nostalgic, pixilated video game of retro RPG conquests, and is a delight incomparable to more far-flung fantasy premises. The liminal spaces in this story are palpable. The sleek, absorbing narrative of singular immersion perfectly resembles my own memories of abandonment to audio visual delights from the era of prehistoric gaming. I have been told 4 stories in this vein exist, relating to the blurring of the video game setting with that of the gamer. There are the two I mentioned, along with another in his collection called The Exalted and the Abased, and a fourth, as-yet unpublished one. I do hope the author pursues this unique and peculiar postulate into as many stories as he can muster. A collection of them would be a dream come true.
Aside from the usual delights, Murphy here implements descriptions of occult rituals alongside breathtaking imagistic set pieces, expressing vibrant desolation and exuberant aesthetic fascination. This finds multiple outlets in the form of a decrepit hotel setting,
Throughout, his brilliantined style is a feast for the reader's sensorium and a treat for enthusiasts of Gothic and decadent literature, as part of the neo-decadent category of Snuggly Books offerings. One of the author's key features is a penchant for learned references, and an abiding concern for dark, deep, and nuanced encounters between nightmarish angels and mesmerized main characters. The elegiac settings are reminiscent of Machen, Clark Ashton Smith, and Baudelaire, and poetic rhythms combined with arcane knowledge depart from these masters into their own unhallowed halls of memorable, captivating grandeur. His exploration of mysterious, lonely locales, present haunting facets of a menacing domain beneath the artful arrangement of Lovecraftian architecture and ornament. The sentence structure is pristine, Nabokovian. In gorgeous and sumptuous prose,
the writing serenades through eerie landscapes that challenge the imagination and enliven the senses. As elsewhere in his body of work, illicit maps betray rather than guide, portals between dimensions showcase a panoply of symbolism, and the trickery of mirrors and seances invoke spirits in unexpected forms. The entities rarely participate in the action, but rather blend in with the baroque stylings and inspire equal parts of awe, reverence, and horripilation in the reader and hero.
Damian Murphy writes a compelling female lead, wrestles with delicate ambiguities, and posits disturbing theories about the structure and nature of the universe, all while entertaining us with hallucinatory journeys.
In this volume, quirky characters delight in games of intellectual daring, and accept the oncoming of supernatural visions and metaphysical experiences in stride, yet they yearn for an escape from the mundane laws of our everyday environment and seek asylum in the occult fates awaiting them, rather than calling for help or simply fleeing from the abysses they cannot understand.
Even amidst solitary hours of contemplation and the indulgence in sinister pursuits, the author always provides thought-provoking analyses of human nature. With his richly detailed command of elegant textures he is able to effortlessly summon an aura of cozy horror, suffusing each literary delicacy with quiet radiance.
An appreciation for the mysteries of the cosmos, the thrill of encroaching upon a borderland, physical manifestations of mental aberrations and the invasion of another realm into our own—these are all accustomed territory for D. M. The imagery within the collection is unified and the tension consistent. The focal lenses of these stories engage in creative speculations involving spatial relationships, which to them, are more important than human interaction.
Also intriguing, the cover reveals subtle asymmetries that find their symbolic analogs in the text.
Consider "The Book of Alabaster," like the story "The Mansion of Sapphire" from another collection: Both are all-time favorites of mine. It recounts the adventures of an outsider protagonist in a nostalgic, pixilated video game of retro RPG conquests, and is a delight incomparable to more far-flung fantasy premises. The liminal spaces in this story are palpable. The sleek, absorbing narrative of singular immersion perfectly resembles my own memories of abandonment to audio visual delights from the era of prehistoric gaming. I have been told 4 stories in this vein exist, relating to the blurring of the video game setting with that of the gamer. There are the two I mentioned, along with another in his collection called The Exalted and the Abased, and a fourth, as-yet unpublished one. I do hope the author pursues this unique and peculiar postulate into as many stories as he can muster. A collection of them would be a dream come true.
Aside from the usual delights, Murphy here implements descriptions of occult rituals alongside breathtaking imagistic set pieces, expressing vibrant desolation and exuberant aesthetic fascination. This finds multiple outlets in the form of a decrepit hotel setting,
Throughout, his brilliantined style is a feast for the reader's sensorium and a treat for enthusiasts of Gothic and decadent literature, as part of the neo-decadent category of Snuggly Books offerings. One of the author's key features is a penchant for learned references, and an abiding concern for dark, deep, and nuanced encounters between nightmarish angels and mesmerized main characters. The elegiac settings are reminiscent of Machen, Clark Ashton Smith, and Baudelaire, and poetic rhythms combined with arcane knowledge depart from these masters into their own unhallowed halls of memorable, captivating grandeur. His exploration of mysterious, lonely locales, present haunting facets of a menacing domain beneath the artful arrangement of Lovecraftian architecture and ornament. The sentence structure is pristine, Nabokovian. In gorgeous and sumptuous prose,
the writing serenades through eerie landscapes that challenge the imagination and enliven the senses. As elsewhere in his body of work, illicit maps betray rather than guide, portals between dimensions showcase a panoply of symbolism, and the trickery of mirrors and seances invoke spirits in unexpected forms. The entities rarely participate in the action, but rather blend in with the baroque stylings and inspire equal parts of awe, reverence, and horripilation in the reader and hero.
Damian Murphy writes a compelling female lead, wrestles with delicate ambiguities, and posits disturbing theories about the structure and nature of the universe, all while entertaining us with hallucinatory journeys.
Read
February 11, 2019Drenched in occult imagery, Daughters of Apostasy celebrates the rituals of adepts and neophytes alike. The stories and novellas that constitute this volume describe instants of fracture between worlds, initiated by the sacred and profane acts of a dedicated few. Among these are those whose capacity to procure gnosis is innate, as well as others, in the form of partners, friends, or acolytes, who are too inexperienced, too jaded, or perhaps just too literal in their perception of the world to discern the deeper significance of their experiences.
At his best, Damian Murphy writes luxuriant prose that yields a voyeuristic effect as the reader is transported into the space formed by the narrative, wherein silent observation of its inhabitants commences. For indeed it often feels as if one is entering and inhabiting these places, where crepuscular figures set off on obscure errands through winding streets of nameless cities, often to explore forbidden zones within them. At times, though, there is a nagging sense, in the thinnest spots of certain stories, that the narrative serves only as a vehicle to convey occult knowledge. And perhaps this is the intent, but for me it can weaken the effect of the story. I can only imagine the delicate balance at play while constructing stories of this nature. How much knowledge to impart while still maintaining the vibrancy of the narrative? Part of the appeal for me as a reader is certainly in the details of occultism embedded in the text, and yet I would prefer that they not dominate to the detriment of the narrative. Ensuring this balance exists can't be an easy task to accomplish.
It was not until 'A Book of Alabaster' that I felt I'd reached a peak in the book; this tale of a tower-dwelling recluse rediscovering a cherished video game of his youth was a highlight. As was the final novella, 'The Music of Exile' (the only one original to this collection), which while it started out slow, grew darker and increasingly more mysterious, eventually transcending the standards of space and time set forth by the mild realism of the lead-in. And it is here where Murphy excels: when he sets a commonplace stage before us and gradually through fictional sleight of hand alters the reality of what we have come to accept, finally leading us into an adjacent world of the strange and unexpected. Perhaps he leads us back or not, but either way the effect is mesmerizing.
On the whole, then, I found this book not as deeply compelling as The Star of Gnosia, Murphy's second collection from Snuggly Books. In those stories and novellas I found the storytelling more prominent, and the details of occultism even more elaborate and more seamlessly woven into the narratives, thus yielding cohesive and better crafted fictional results. In addition, the stories in the latter collection feel more unified through theme, which strengthens the book. All that stated, the usual disclaimers regarding collections apply to this one; it is likely that my own subjective responses to these more disparate selections will differ from those of other readers. In line with that, I choose not to assign an overall rating to the book.
At his best, Damian Murphy writes luxuriant prose that yields a voyeuristic effect as the reader is transported into the space formed by the narrative, wherein silent observation of its inhabitants commences. For indeed it often feels as if one is entering and inhabiting these places, where crepuscular figures set off on obscure errands through winding streets of nameless cities, often to explore forbidden zones within them. At times, though, there is a nagging sense, in the thinnest spots of certain stories, that the narrative serves only as a vehicle to convey occult knowledge. And perhaps this is the intent, but for me it can weaken the effect of the story. I can only imagine the delicate balance at play while constructing stories of this nature. How much knowledge to impart while still maintaining the vibrancy of the narrative? Part of the appeal for me as a reader is certainly in the details of occultism embedded in the text, and yet I would prefer that they not dominate to the detriment of the narrative. Ensuring this balance exists can't be an easy task to accomplish.
It was not until 'A Book of Alabaster' that I felt I'd reached a peak in the book; this tale of a tower-dwelling recluse rediscovering a cherished video game of his youth was a highlight. As was the final novella, 'The Music of Exile' (the only one original to this collection), which while it started out slow, grew darker and increasingly more mysterious, eventually transcending the standards of space and time set forth by the mild realism of the lead-in. And it is here where Murphy excels: when he sets a commonplace stage before us and gradually through fictional sleight of hand alters the reality of what we have come to accept, finally leading us into an adjacent world of the strange and unexpected. Perhaps he leads us back or not, but either way the effect is mesmerizing.
On the whole, then, I found this book not as deeply compelling as The Star of Gnosia, Murphy's second collection from Snuggly Books. In those stories and novellas I found the storytelling more prominent, and the details of occultism even more elaborate and more seamlessly woven into the narratives, thus yielding cohesive and better crafted fictional results. In addition, the stories in the latter collection feel more unified through theme, which strengthens the book. All that stated, the usual disclaimers regarding collections apply to this one; it is likely that my own subjective responses to these more disparate selections will differ from those of other readers. In line with that, I choose not to assign an overall rating to the book.
February 14, 2018
Damian Murphy's Daughters of Apostasy is of those books that the reader in me loves (to such an extent that its prose made my spirit feel like a glorious lighting bolt shooting its way upward to the Sphere of Kether), but which makes the writer in me despair: the former because it's full of exquisitely beautiful sentences such as (to quote but one from the first story), "...icy stars gleaming like shattered teeth on black velvet," the latter because it makes me realize that I need to up my own game to stay in the race. This short story/novella collection is hard to identify and resists glib classification: the neo-decadent prose reminds me a little of a more European Clark Ashton Smith that's been unshackled by the constant need to try to be scary, but the occult themes and imagery at work here seem to me unique to much of what's going on out there in contemporary literature. It's hard to pick a favorite piece but I really liked the story "A Book of Alabaster," perhaps because its narrative focus is on a mysterious, archaic Atari video game that leads its players deeper into suggestive (and at times terrifying) Mysteries. In a book teeming with evocative sub rosa similes, it seems only appropriate that I end this brief review with one of my own: this is a book that explores both beauty and ugliness, to the extent that those concepts are revealed to be in fact twins, and to read it is to witness the avian equivalence of the alchemical Union of the Opposites, in which the Peacock Angel worshiped by the Yezidis becomes one with the vulture of the Zos Kia Cultus. Which is a fancy and pretentious way of saying that I really enjoyed this book and that I highly recommend it!
September 4, 2019
Sublimely delicious. More to come.
April 13, 2019
I have ranted here before about writers who use five words when two will do in the mistaken belief it adds an intellectual cachet to their work. It doesnt. It just reveals them to be pretentious and egotistical.
Then there is Damian Murphy. He knows how to do it. He can add words to a sentence ad infinitum, and the prose blossoms and expands and becomes some living, dark, otherworldly thing. And you feel voyeuristic for even reading it. And you keep reading it. Because the phrases are so haunting, the visions of his architecture make you ache to be part of the city he has created. Even though you know you would be intensely unhappy there, you want to be part of the darkness, the loneliness, the gnostic rituals the people participate in on the hours before the sunrise.
Then you stop, look up, around your nice, normal room, and think, "Hey, 'gnostic rituals?' What the hell does that even mean? Is this guy Murphy just messing with us?
The answer, my fellow deluded readers, lies in the last story in the book, "The Muse of Exile," wherein one character wonders about her interactions with another if what they endured together " was purely fanciful and arbitrary. "
There, I believe, is our answer. We've been taken for a ride. But, wasn't the scenery viewed from the window beautiful?
Then there is Damian Murphy. He knows how to do it. He can add words to a sentence ad infinitum, and the prose blossoms and expands and becomes some living, dark, otherworldly thing. And you feel voyeuristic for even reading it. And you keep reading it. Because the phrases are so haunting, the visions of his architecture make you ache to be part of the city he has created. Even though you know you would be intensely unhappy there, you want to be part of the darkness, the loneliness, the gnostic rituals the people participate in on the hours before the sunrise.
Then you stop, look up, around your nice, normal room, and think, "Hey, 'gnostic rituals?' What the hell does that even mean? Is this guy Murphy just messing with us?
The answer, my fellow deluded readers, lies in the last story in the book, "The Muse of Exile," wherein one character wonders about her interactions with another if what they endured together " was purely fanciful and arbitrary. "
There, I believe, is our answer. We've been taken for a ride. But, wasn't the scenery viewed from the window beautiful?
February 19, 2019
Originally published at Risingshadow.
I'll start this review by saying that it's been a while since I've read anything as good as this collection when it comes to literary strange fiction and beautifully written speculative fiction. This collection is stunning, absolutely stunning.
When I began to read Daughters of Apostasy, Damian Murphy was an unknown author to me. I had only seen his name mentioned on a few websites, but knew almost nothing about what kind of fiction he writes. I'm glad I had an opportunity to read this collection, because it greatly appealed to me and left me wanting more.
Daughters of Apostasy is steeped in mystery, occultism and metaphysics. It impressed me on many levels, because I enjoy reading literary fiction that has dark, beguiling, esoteric and fantastical elements. I'm sure that I won't be the only person who finds this collection fascinating, because it's utterly captivating.
The contents of this collection are gnostic, esoteric and mysterious. The stories also have a touch of decadence to them. If you're familiar with classic weird fiction and occult fiction, you'll find yourself at home with these stories and their strange atmosphere.
This collection contains the following stories:
- The Scourge and the Sanctuary
- Permutations of the Citadel
- The Salamander Angel (long version)
- A Book of Alabaster
- The Music of Exile
The narrative focus in these stories is on the occult, rituals, atmosphere and beguiling strangeness, and also on otherworldliness and the things that we can't normally see. There's an obscure and stylistic sense of strangeness that exudes out of the stories and transports readers into the world of the esoterica and the unknown. Although these stories are not Lovecraftian per se, there's something strangely Lovecraftian about them. I also detect a faint touch of Clark Ashton Smith and R.B. Russell in them.
"The Scourge and the Sanctuary" tells of Theodora who writes letters to Sebastian. She tells him about a penthouse that she has become obsessed with and tries to find a way inside. What Theodora finds there and what happens to her is truly fascinating, because she has crossed over into a metaphysical world that changes her perception of reality.
"Permutations of the Citadel" is a story about Algernon and Martin who share reception duties at a hotel. Algernon suggests that they update the map that hangs on one side of the grand staircase. Martin is seeing an older woman, Miss Pataki, who has participated in séances and knows things that only a few others do. I won't reveal what happens in this story, but I can mention that what kind of changes Martin notices in the hotel is fascinating. I loved this story, because it has everything I expect to find in literary strange fiction: beautiful prose, dreamlike atmosphere and alluring strangeness.
"The Salamander Angel" is perhaps the most enthralling story in this collection. It's a beautifully written and sophisticatedly complex novella that has a good atmosphere and memorable scenes. The invocation of the Salamander Angel has stuck to mind, because I find this scene utterly compelling. The image of the ruined church has also stayed with me, because the author's depictions about the church are excellent.
"A Book of Alabaster" is also a great story. It tells of Stefan who lives alone in the lookout tower atop a house. He has bought an old game and a game console so that he can play the game. When Stefan begins to play game and has played it for a while, he sees something strange that frightens him... I enjoyed this story and found it intriguing, because it's something different.
"The Music of Exile" is a novella about Karina who visits the snowbound Stenger house. Her visit marks the third time she has visited the place in as many years. There, she meets the Russian poet Anna Reznikova, who suggests something to her. Karina agrees to what Anna suggests and will undergo a strange rite... I was impressed by this story, because the author writes fascinatingly about what happens between the two poets and what Karina has to do.
One of the best things about these stories is that the author tells of how a building or a structure can exist beyond its physical dimensions and be a doorway to other places. His way of writing about the building and structures intrigued me a lot due to its subtle complexity. I was also taken by the strangely sensual seductiveness of the unknown that is present in the stories.
I find Damian Murphy's prose excellent, because he writes prose that is at its best exquisitely beautiful and beguilingly captivating. The author has a fantastic sense of atmosphere. With his prose, he transports the reader into the world of the unknown and lets the reader be a spectator who witnesses glimpses of the world that lies beyond our known reality.
I give this collection full five stars on the scale from one to five stars, because it's excellent and deeply compelling in its strangeness and features excellent prose. Because I loved this collection, I'll soon read the author's other book, "The Star of Gnosia", which has also been published by Snuggly Books.
Damian Murphy's Daughters of Apostasy is one of the most fascinating collections of literary speculative fiction available for readers who want to experience something darkly beautiful and esoteric. It's a gem that should be read by those who love literary strange fiction.
Highly recommended!
I'll start this review by saying that it's been a while since I've read anything as good as this collection when it comes to literary strange fiction and beautifully written speculative fiction. This collection is stunning, absolutely stunning.
When I began to read Daughters of Apostasy, Damian Murphy was an unknown author to me. I had only seen his name mentioned on a few websites, but knew almost nothing about what kind of fiction he writes. I'm glad I had an opportunity to read this collection, because it greatly appealed to me and left me wanting more.
Daughters of Apostasy is steeped in mystery, occultism and metaphysics. It impressed me on many levels, because I enjoy reading literary fiction that has dark, beguiling, esoteric and fantastical elements. I'm sure that I won't be the only person who finds this collection fascinating, because it's utterly captivating.
The contents of this collection are gnostic, esoteric and mysterious. The stories also have a touch of decadence to them. If you're familiar with classic weird fiction and occult fiction, you'll find yourself at home with these stories and their strange atmosphere.
This collection contains the following stories:
- The Scourge and the Sanctuary
- Permutations of the Citadel
- The Salamander Angel (long version)
- A Book of Alabaster
- The Music of Exile
The narrative focus in these stories is on the occult, rituals, atmosphere and beguiling strangeness, and also on otherworldliness and the things that we can't normally see. There's an obscure and stylistic sense of strangeness that exudes out of the stories and transports readers into the world of the esoterica and the unknown. Although these stories are not Lovecraftian per se, there's something strangely Lovecraftian about them. I also detect a faint touch of Clark Ashton Smith and R.B. Russell in them.
"The Scourge and the Sanctuary" tells of Theodora who writes letters to Sebastian. She tells him about a penthouse that she has become obsessed with and tries to find a way inside. What Theodora finds there and what happens to her is truly fascinating, because she has crossed over into a metaphysical world that changes her perception of reality.
"Permutations of the Citadel" is a story about Algernon and Martin who share reception duties at a hotel. Algernon suggests that they update the map that hangs on one side of the grand staircase. Martin is seeing an older woman, Miss Pataki, who has participated in séances and knows things that only a few others do. I won't reveal what happens in this story, but I can mention that what kind of changes Martin notices in the hotel is fascinating. I loved this story, because it has everything I expect to find in literary strange fiction: beautiful prose, dreamlike atmosphere and alluring strangeness.
"The Salamander Angel" is perhaps the most enthralling story in this collection. It's a beautifully written and sophisticatedly complex novella that has a good atmosphere and memorable scenes. The invocation of the Salamander Angel has stuck to mind, because I find this scene utterly compelling. The image of the ruined church has also stayed with me, because the author's depictions about the church are excellent.
"A Book of Alabaster" is also a great story. It tells of Stefan who lives alone in the lookout tower atop a house. He has bought an old game and a game console so that he can play the game. When Stefan begins to play game and has played it for a while, he sees something strange that frightens him... I enjoyed this story and found it intriguing, because it's something different.
"The Music of Exile" is a novella about Karina who visits the snowbound Stenger house. Her visit marks the third time she has visited the place in as many years. There, she meets the Russian poet Anna Reznikova, who suggests something to her. Karina agrees to what Anna suggests and will undergo a strange rite... I was impressed by this story, because the author writes fascinatingly about what happens between the two poets and what Karina has to do.
One of the best things about these stories is that the author tells of how a building or a structure can exist beyond its physical dimensions and be a doorway to other places. His way of writing about the building and structures intrigued me a lot due to its subtle complexity. I was also taken by the strangely sensual seductiveness of the unknown that is present in the stories.
I find Damian Murphy's prose excellent, because he writes prose that is at its best exquisitely beautiful and beguilingly captivating. The author has a fantastic sense of atmosphere. With his prose, he transports the reader into the world of the unknown and lets the reader be a spectator who witnesses glimpses of the world that lies beyond our known reality.
I give this collection full five stars on the scale from one to five stars, because it's excellent and deeply compelling in its strangeness and features excellent prose. Because I loved this collection, I'll soon read the author's other book, "The Star of Gnosia", which has also been published by Snuggly Books.
Damian Murphy's Daughters of Apostasy is one of the most fascinating collections of literary speculative fiction available for readers who want to experience something darkly beautiful and esoteric. It's a gem that should be read by those who love literary strange fiction.
Highly recommended!
December 3, 2021
Great book. Not as good as The Star of Gnosia.
February 18, 2018
Love the blurb, and enjoyed the ornate abstractions of "The Scourge and the Sanctuary" and "Permutations of the Citadel".
January 26, 2021
THE MUSIC OF EXILE
Just finished reading this new novelette by Damian Murphy, and I couldn’t put it down as it slid by in one sitting. This alone would be worth the price of this book, disregarding the medium it’s embedded within. The rest are great, too, but this work I consider to be something else. He may tell me he wrote it years ago. If that is the case, so be it, as if he’s been progressing towards it all his life retrocausally. It’s about two women poets invited to a house with taxidermy objects and other resplendent accoutrements, amid the snow outside, and their literary Faustian liaison between the hours of retiring for the night and actually going to bed. The spiritual pace of this work is breathtaking, threaded through with cigarettes, more cigarettes, and birds. It is a ritual of trust, the young poetess following the older one into the cold benighted environs of the house, with a ‘passport’ of meticulous paths – towards and into what is called The Border Station. You will not ever forget some of the images, the paintings that embody the older poetess, a sort of Foreign Connection in the border station (a short something I wrote a few days ago before reading this incredible Damian work). I have pencilled noteworthy inspirational quotes galore in this Snuggly book’s version of this work but I dare not quote any of them here. Believe me this is a work that is essential reading for the ExOccian people like us. It is pure dark avian-incantatory homing towards some highly significant lode of occult knowledge at the birder station. Sorry, border. It is beyond words, no exaggeration. A work with sexual undercurrents that don’t in the end exist. Poetry as theft. Poetry as tobacco yearning. A blackened poetess, like a tower. And a description of an old photo in a hidden room to die for. In fact a work as a whole to die for.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long or impractical to post here.
Above is one of its observations at the time of the review.
Just finished reading this new novelette by Damian Murphy, and I couldn’t put it down as it slid by in one sitting. This alone would be worth the price of this book, disregarding the medium it’s embedded within. The rest are great, too, but this work I consider to be something else. He may tell me he wrote it years ago. If that is the case, so be it, as if he’s been progressing towards it all his life retrocausally. It’s about two women poets invited to a house with taxidermy objects and other resplendent accoutrements, amid the snow outside, and their literary Faustian liaison between the hours of retiring for the night and actually going to bed. The spiritual pace of this work is breathtaking, threaded through with cigarettes, more cigarettes, and birds. It is a ritual of trust, the young poetess following the older one into the cold benighted environs of the house, with a ‘passport’ of meticulous paths – towards and into what is called The Border Station. You will not ever forget some of the images, the paintings that embody the older poetess, a sort of Foreign Connection in the border station (a short something I wrote a few days ago before reading this incredible Damian work). I have pencilled noteworthy inspirational quotes galore in this Snuggly book’s version of this work but I dare not quote any of them here. Believe me this is a work that is essential reading for the ExOccian people like us. It is pure dark avian-incantatory homing towards some highly significant lode of occult knowledge at the birder station. Sorry, border. It is beyond words, no exaggeration. A work with sexual undercurrents that don’t in the end exist. Poetry as theft. Poetry as tobacco yearning. A blackened poetess, like a tower. And a description of an old photo in a hidden room to die for. In fact a work as a whole to die for.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long or impractical to post here.
Above is one of its observations at the time of the review.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews