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Jesus and John
Jesus and John is a Weird re-imagining of the New Testament as a novel of allegorical horror. John, a fisherman from a rural village on the shores of Galilee, is tasked with protecting the risen body of his lover who was crucified for disrupting Roman order in the city of Jerusalem. The body, having miraculously emerged from its cave-like tomb, refuses to speak and walks in a dream-like silence, disrupting the clear-cut message of the Apostle Peter and eventually leading John on a dangerous pilgrimage to a mysterious mansion in Rome known as the Gray Palace. There, the few inhabitants promise a celebration that may lead to a sacrifice John is unwilling to make. Incorporating Christian Gnosticism, Pagan dreams, and a contemporary will toward queer disruption, Adam McOmber's new novel tells a powerful story of devotion.
225 pages, Paperback
First published May 15, 2020
6 people are currently reading
1478 people want to read
About the author
Adam McOmber
14 books98 followersAdam McOmber is the author of three novels, The White Forest (Simon and Schuster), Jesus and John (Lethe), and The Ghost Finders (JournalStone) as well as three collections of stories, This New & Poisonous Air and My House Gathers Desires (BOA Editions) and Fantasy Kit (Black Lawrence). His queer, erotic reimagining of Arthur Conan Doyle's The Hound of the Baskervilles was released by Lethe Press in October 2022. His work has appeared recently in Conjunctions, Kenyon Review, Salt Hill and Diagram. He teaches in the Vermont College of Fine Arts MFA in Writing Program and is the editor-in-chief of the literary magazine Hunger Mountain.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 42 reviews
June 8, 2020
I'm the author. Jesus and John is my favorite, and (I think) best book I've written. Thanks for checking it out!
August 24, 2024
You know what? Fuck it. I’ll make a bold statement:
I think this book is a fucking masterpiece.
A masterpiece of psychological, queer, borderline cosmic horror, as well as devotion, love, passion, pain, and purpose.
I am so, so in love with this book, and how it’s woven together in such a genius way.
Adam McOmber’s writing is so completely transfixing, and the pages will fly by before you know it because of the expert pacing and genuine thrill of uncovering each new, increasingly (yet still perfectly due to the strength of the writing) comprehensible layer of the Gray Palace.
I feel like this is a book that could be read through again and again and a new connection could be made each time.
And of course, it’s always nice to experience a story alongside characters who are so well written. John is a perfect narrator to guide us through the labyrinth, and the side characters very much shine. (I especially love Gallus.)
For those wondering about the horror aspect/scary levels of the book, the horror very much takes its time to build. McOmber so stealthily and expertly builds tension and dread with each new room of the Gray Palace and each new wrinkle in the mystery at the center of the place and the story.
Eventually, I realized just how deep certain scenes had gotten under my skin and the dread what was coming next paired so well with my curiosity and need to see these characters and this story through to the end, which, by the way, should definitely please A24 horror fans.
What made this book especially thought provoking for me is my religious background of growing up in church and studying the Bible. The way McOmber makes use of allegory alongside certain biblical events and characters is just so genius and subsequently made me feel like a genius when I was able to make certain connections before being given more direct hinting/clues/reveals.
So, um yeah. This book slaps. And I should also say, I really love the queerness in this book, specifically because of just how tender and full the love is, as well as John’s descriptions of the male body and how beautiful he finds it.
Anyways, I’ll get off my soap box. This book is one of my absolute favorites and it should be much more widely read and hailed as modern classic. I don’t care if you disagree; eat my ass.
I think this book is a fucking masterpiece.
A masterpiece of psychological, queer, borderline cosmic horror, as well as devotion, love, passion, pain, and purpose.
I am so, so in love with this book, and how it’s woven together in such a genius way.
Adam McOmber’s writing is so completely transfixing, and the pages will fly by before you know it because of the expert pacing and genuine thrill of uncovering each new, increasingly (yet still perfectly due to the strength of the writing) comprehensible layer of the Gray Palace.
I feel like this is a book that could be read through again and again and a new connection could be made each time.
And of course, it’s always nice to experience a story alongside characters who are so well written. John is a perfect narrator to guide us through the labyrinth, and the side characters very much shine. (I especially love Gallus.)
For those wondering about the horror aspect/scary levels of the book, the horror very much takes its time to build. McOmber so stealthily and expertly builds tension and dread with each new room of the Gray Palace and each new wrinkle in the mystery at the center of the place and the story.
Eventually, I realized just how deep certain scenes had gotten under my skin and the dread what was coming next paired so well with my curiosity and need to see these characters and this story through to the end, which, by the way, should definitely please A24 horror fans.
What made this book especially thought provoking for me is my religious background of growing up in church and studying the Bible. The way McOmber makes use of allegory alongside certain biblical events and characters is just so genius and subsequently made me feel like a genius when I was able to make certain connections before being given more direct hinting/clues/reveals.
So, um yeah. This book slaps. And I should also say, I really love the queerness in this book, specifically because of just how tender and full the love is, as well as John’s descriptions of the male body and how beautiful he finds it.
Anyways, I’ll get off my soap box. This book is one of my absolute favorites and it should be much more widely read and hailed as modern classic. I don’t care if you disagree; eat my ass.
April 11, 2020
We all know the traditional Easter story, not the one about bunnies and eggs, but the equally fantastic one about Jesus rising from the grave, ascending the physical world and achieving salvation for our entire species.
In Jesus and John, Adam McOmber asks, what if it happened another way? What if Jesus stumbled out of his grave like a zombie and shambled around the earth mindlessly? And what if his disciple John shared more than a brotherly love for the messiah in life and followed Yeshua’s shambling corpse through the world hoping to be lead to some greater truth?
The result isn’t a zombie story or even a horror novel in the traditional sense, but something more in the vein of magical realism. Yeshua isn’t devouring brains, but is simply a being beyond death who seems to walk aimlessly through the world. And though there are some frightening or disturbing moments and images, they are meant to make you think more than jump. Still, the novel is fantastical, but strangely more down-to-earth than the biblical versions of Jesus’ resurrection that have become part of our cultural memory.
Through this speculative journey, which becomes something of an Odyssean quest, McOmber provides a look at many very real human experiences. There is an exchange early in the novel where two characters in a homophobic society discuss their sexuality. Jax asks John if he prefers women or men, and John says he doesn’t feel comfortable answering. To that, Jax replies,
“There’s a difference between lying and not wanting to talk about something.” All too real for many queer people as well, John refers to Yeshua as his “friend” throughout the novel, despite flashbacks and current emotions that make it very clear John and Yeshua were in love before Yeshua was resurrected.
Despite, or maybe because of the eerie, surreal setting, these tender moments carry a weight that elevates the novel to become a haunting retelling of the Easter story readers will not soon forget.
In Jesus and John, Adam McOmber asks, what if it happened another way? What if Jesus stumbled out of his grave like a zombie and shambled around the earth mindlessly? And what if his disciple John shared more than a brotherly love for the messiah in life and followed Yeshua’s shambling corpse through the world hoping to be lead to some greater truth?
The result isn’t a zombie story or even a horror novel in the traditional sense, but something more in the vein of magical realism. Yeshua isn’t devouring brains, but is simply a being beyond death who seems to walk aimlessly through the world. And though there are some frightening or disturbing moments and images, they are meant to make you think more than jump. Still, the novel is fantastical, but strangely more down-to-earth than the biblical versions of Jesus’ resurrection that have become part of our cultural memory.
Through this speculative journey, which becomes something of an Odyssean quest, McOmber provides a look at many very real human experiences. There is an exchange early in the novel where two characters in a homophobic society discuss their sexuality. Jax asks John if he prefers women or men, and John says he doesn’t feel comfortable answering. To that, Jax replies,
“There’s a difference between lying and not wanting to talk about something.” All too real for many queer people as well, John refers to Yeshua as his “friend” throughout the novel, despite flashbacks and current emotions that make it very clear John and Yeshua were in love before Yeshua was resurrected.
Despite, or maybe because of the eerie, surreal setting, these tender moments carry a weight that elevates the novel to become a haunting retelling of the Easter story readers will not soon forget.
February 27, 2025
more like 3.5 i LOVE how jesus's resurrection is depicted in this book and wish it had more horror than it does
July 9, 2020
A novel that concerns itself with Gnosticism is going to get my attention, especially these days, when American society in general has become so polarized and religion, in particular, so black and white. The gospel narratives, for example, have never been black and white. They’re full of vagueness, inconsistencies, contradictions and, most prominently, broad divergences with regard to the structure, plot, details and symbolism of the stories they tell—and the meanings those stories intend.
That’s where Adam McOmber’s Jesus and John comes in. A queer re-envisioning of the resurrection narrative. And boy, oh boy, is there room for a novel like this! But hold up. Depending upon what you’re looking for in a story involving incidentally homosexual characters, there’s nothing titillating to be found in this one. The novel’s deceptively narrow focus plays out against the historical backdrop of the inchoate rise of the Roman Empire, a time of great ideological turmoil among the adherents of Judaism, Gnosticism, Paganism, Hellenism and a fledgling Christianity—and this turmoil underpins every word of the book. To be sure, Jesus and John is also not about advancing some iconoclastic, modern gay agenda; there’s nothing new or world-shattering about the fact that respected scholars and historians have, for centuries, postulated counter ideas about the sexuality and/or political motives of early Christians. No, this is simply a fresh, Gnostic retelling of the resurrection narrative with a queer consciousness. In other words, gay people aren’t left out (or villainized) this time. Amen to that. In this version, Jesus is resurrected, but in a different, far different state from the one that New Testament narratives attempt to describe. It is, in a sense, a spiritually blinded resurrection, yet no less amazing, strange and terrifying for those who witness or participate in it than for those who experience the resurrection in, say, the Gospel of Luke.
We forget just how much Gnostic writers and their ideas shaped early Christianity and the New Testament documents. Jesus and John is both a mesmerizing feat of imagination and, by extension, a call to wake ourselves from the catatonic literalism that has, in many ways, enfeebled our contemporary religious understanding. Reading this story, we are compelled to recapture the wonder and awesome mystery of the spiritual. For the plot centers on a fantastical search, a haunting quest for answers and meaning regarding Jesus’s strange new existence. (And because it is a quest, that’s all I can say; anything more would involve spoilers.) Ultimately, the novel’s tense, sustained allegory explores belief, the natures of time and being, memory and knowledge, and, perhaps best of all, the universality of love.
Comparisons with the great quest poems, quest novels and weird speculative novels abound, but for all the similarities, it is with one of my favorite stories, a shorter, quieter one, that I find a more inspiring connection: Saint Emmanuel the Good, Martyr by Miguel de Unamuno. In this moving novella, as in McOmber’s Jesus and John, we come to understand that there is far more to wisdom, love, faith, compassion—and to life and death—than are, if you’ll pardon my jump to Hamlet, “dreamt of in your philosophy.”
Do yourself a favor. Rush to buy Jesus and John. Read it. Relish it. Shiver with life’s supernal mysteries yet again!
That’s where Adam McOmber’s Jesus and John comes in. A queer re-envisioning of the resurrection narrative. And boy, oh boy, is there room for a novel like this! But hold up. Depending upon what you’re looking for in a story involving incidentally homosexual characters, there’s nothing titillating to be found in this one. The novel’s deceptively narrow focus plays out against the historical backdrop of the inchoate rise of the Roman Empire, a time of great ideological turmoil among the adherents of Judaism, Gnosticism, Paganism, Hellenism and a fledgling Christianity—and this turmoil underpins every word of the book. To be sure, Jesus and John is also not about advancing some iconoclastic, modern gay agenda; there’s nothing new or world-shattering about the fact that respected scholars and historians have, for centuries, postulated counter ideas about the sexuality and/or political motives of early Christians. No, this is simply a fresh, Gnostic retelling of the resurrection narrative with a queer consciousness. In other words, gay people aren’t left out (or villainized) this time. Amen to that. In this version, Jesus is resurrected, but in a different, far different state from the one that New Testament narratives attempt to describe. It is, in a sense, a spiritually blinded resurrection, yet no less amazing, strange and terrifying for those who witness or participate in it than for those who experience the resurrection in, say, the Gospel of Luke.
We forget just how much Gnostic writers and their ideas shaped early Christianity and the New Testament documents. Jesus and John is both a mesmerizing feat of imagination and, by extension, a call to wake ourselves from the catatonic literalism that has, in many ways, enfeebled our contemporary religious understanding. Reading this story, we are compelled to recapture the wonder and awesome mystery of the spiritual. For the plot centers on a fantastical search, a haunting quest for answers and meaning regarding Jesus’s strange new existence. (And because it is a quest, that’s all I can say; anything more would involve spoilers.) Ultimately, the novel’s tense, sustained allegory explores belief, the natures of time and being, memory and knowledge, and, perhaps best of all, the universality of love.
Comparisons with the great quest poems, quest novels and weird speculative novels abound, but for all the similarities, it is with one of my favorite stories, a shorter, quieter one, that I find a more inspiring connection: Saint Emmanuel the Good, Martyr by Miguel de Unamuno. In this moving novella, as in McOmber’s Jesus and John, we come to understand that there is far more to wisdom, love, faith, compassion—and to life and death—than are, if you’ll pardon my jump to Hamlet, “dreamt of in your philosophy.”
Do yourself a favor. Rush to buy Jesus and John. Read it. Relish it. Shiver with life’s supernal mysteries yet again!
February 20, 2026
for a book called “jesus and john,” there’s actually not much jesus and john in it
February 1, 2023
[4.5]
Do i know exactly what i read? No, not really but i'm okay with that because i really do enjoy Adam McOmber's writing.
A lot of the biblical/religious imagery for sure went over my head but it was still a good time from start to finish. It was interesting to see a reimagined version of the new testament with a heavy focus on queerness and horror.
one thing that i really liked about this was the bits of John's reckoning with his queerness he has throughout his entire journey. We continuously see John struggle to grasp his feelings about his past relationship with Yeshua since it is compared to the hallowed out version he has with Yeshua that we get to see. John was also a very likeable character to follow, i became fully invested in him from the first moments we meet him. same with all of the characters actually.
this is also my first encounter with Weird Fiction and one thing about this novel is that you have to be comfortable sitting in the unknown and okay with not really grasping everything that is going on. need more Weird in my life.
Do i know exactly what i read? No, not really but i'm okay with that because i really do enjoy Adam McOmber's writing.
A lot of the biblical/religious imagery for sure went over my head but it was still a good time from start to finish. It was interesting to see a reimagined version of the new testament with a heavy focus on queerness and horror.
one thing that i really liked about this was the bits of John's reckoning with his queerness he has throughout his entire journey. We continuously see John struggle to grasp his feelings about his past relationship with Yeshua since it is compared to the hallowed out version he has with Yeshua that we get to see. John was also a very likeable character to follow, i became fully invested in him from the first moments we meet him. same with all of the characters actually.
this is also my first encounter with Weird Fiction and one thing about this novel is that you have to be comfortable sitting in the unknown and okay with not really grasping everything that is going on. need more Weird in my life.
April 7, 2026
Ok this was a surprising banger — very reminiscent of Piranesi but with a Christianity twist. I don’t think I understood everything but maybe that was the point??
October 2, 2022
Now we know what may have really happened after the Resurrection. The story is written from the POV of John, the disciple Jesus loved. Scholars have long debated what that scriptural reference may have meant, this book gives one explanation. And anyone familiar with the Book of Revelations, written by john, can certainly see a similarity to the story set forth here.
December 17, 2023
absolutely ate
February 25, 2021
I really wanted to like this book. But it's super boring.
I think this novel's narrator is supposed to be the writer of the gospel of John from the new testament, because that's the gospel with obvious homoromanticism. But here John doesn't seem to be really spiritual, even though John's gospel is the most spiritual and blatantly supernatural gospel of the 4 canonical ones.
And Jesus seems like a shitty boyfriend in this book, which could be interesting but it isn't.
I also wasn't that blown away by the text's exploration of paganism either. There's a lot of potentially meaty stuff to explore that was just superficially alluded to.
The prose is monotonous. This story should have been told with Oscar Wilde's lush and decadent language. The book expects you to be shocked just by having Jesus be gay- which is right there in the New Testament's gospel of john for anyone with eyes to see it- but I doubt anyone picking up this book would care one way or another about that.
I think this novel's narrator is supposed to be the writer of the gospel of John from the new testament, because that's the gospel with obvious homoromanticism. But here John doesn't seem to be really spiritual, even though John's gospel is the most spiritual and blatantly supernatural gospel of the 4 canonical ones.
And Jesus seems like a shitty boyfriend in this book, which could be interesting but it isn't.
I also wasn't that blown away by the text's exploration of paganism either. There's a lot of potentially meaty stuff to explore that was just superficially alluded to.
The prose is monotonous. This story should have been told with Oscar Wilde's lush and decadent language. The book expects you to be shocked just by having Jesus be gay- which is right there in the New Testament's gospel of john for anyone with eyes to see it- but I doubt anyone picking up this book would care one way or another about that.
June 28, 2021
McOmber's retelling of the new testament through a horror adventure novel is beyond my expectations of creativity in a storyteller. John's journey to follow Yeshua (Jesus) after he has risen depicts the Christian meaning of Jesus's purpose in an adventure that generally piques the interest of modern readers. No matter your religious identification, this novel will read as a thriller while also introducing questions to the existence of humanity. Though the meaning behind McOmber's words are introspectively deep, Jesus and John is a fast and very entertaining read. Highly recommend, and curious to explore McOmber's writing further!
June 23, 2023
anytime a book is like, this is an approximation of what happened because its so insane it cant be captured by words?? love that
April 16, 2026
4.5 stars.
This is one of those books that completely knocks the wind out of you in the best way. An excellent maze in the search for knowledge/self knowledge, queer desire, the depths to which true devotion will take you and ultimately change you, and the necessity of gray spaces in the illusion of the world we create for ourselves. This book uses the framework of the story of the Resurrection of Christ to open with a "came back from the dead wrong" story which quickly becomes much more than that - it becomes a story about love and humanity, of our best and worst. It delves into how stories become stories, how John can see himself reflected in the eyes of those trying to interpret him, the feeling of being constantly watched as our search for knowledge outside of his world, of our trying to discover the meaning of him and this book, intersects with his own life as he becomes a character instead of a man.
The entire book had the feeling of mise en abyme, a tilting maze of mirrors where you see your reflection multiplied into infinity, and you're not quite sure, but did that one, right there, twenty seven deep - did that one move in a way you did not? The moment is gone and you can't be sure. You focus on your 27th self to see if it moves autonomously again, and out of the corner of your eye your third self smiles unprompted.
The whole book was an unsettling, uncanny horror, a house that perhaps wasn't a house at all, a lady with no name but a long history, and a love story between two men that we really don't know at all yet think we do. *chefs kiss* It also introduced me to Gnosticism and Sophia which has turned into a rabbithole I haven't found the bottom of yet.
I loved this book, but knocked half a star off because unfortunately, at least in my ebook, there were many grammatical and spelling errors which any editor worth their salt should have caught (roll instead of role, palate instead of pallet, missing of's, commas, etc).
This is one of those books that completely knocks the wind out of you in the best way. An excellent maze in the search for knowledge/self knowledge, queer desire, the depths to which true devotion will take you and ultimately change you, and the necessity of gray spaces in the illusion of the world we create for ourselves. This book uses the framework of the story of the Resurrection of Christ to open with a "came back from the dead wrong" story which quickly becomes much more than that - it becomes a story about love and humanity, of our best and worst. It delves into how stories become stories, how John can see himself reflected in the eyes of those trying to interpret him, the feeling of being constantly watched as our search for knowledge outside of his world, of our trying to discover the meaning of him and this book, intersects with his own life as he becomes a character instead of a man.
The eyes of the great door found me and looked upon me. And when they did, I was no longer one man. I was, instead, multiplied. There were as many variations of me as the door had eyes. And I was suddenly everywhere, and all at once. Scattered in space and in time. A thousand Johns. A thousand histories. And the eyes read my histories as if my body was made of words. And as they read, the words seemed to shift and change. And I too was changed, no version of me ever gaining permanence. I struggled against the eyes, fighting what they would do. Yet in the end, they triumphed. For when the eyes of the great door blinked, I disappeared.
The entire book had the feeling of mise en abyme, a tilting maze of mirrors where you see your reflection multiplied into infinity, and you're not quite sure, but did that one, right there, twenty seven deep - did that one move in a way you did not? The moment is gone and you can't be sure. You focus on your 27th self to see if it moves autonomously again, and out of the corner of your eye your third self smiles unprompted.
The whole book was an unsettling, uncanny horror, a house that perhaps wasn't a house at all, a lady with no name but a long history, and a love story between two men that we really don't know at all yet think we do. *chefs kiss* It also introduced me to Gnosticism and Sophia which has turned into a rabbithole I haven't found the bottom of yet.
I loved this book, but knocked half a star off because unfortunately, at least in my ebook, there were many grammatical and spelling errors which any editor worth their salt should have caught (roll instead of role, palate instead of pallet, missing of's, commas, etc).
January 27, 2024
since coming to college i've had to reckon with the fact that no one is forcing me to be a christian anymore, and if my religion, or lack thereof, can withstand that. even when i struggled with my faith in middle and high school, i went to a private mennonite school and mandatory bible classes and daily chapels kept faith at the forefront of my mind.
but in college, my tentative ties to the faith only seem to come out when i'm interested in taking the mythologies and shaping them for my own writing, or reading other people's. because of this, jesus and john has been at the top of my tbr for a long time.
this whole past week i've been having strange urgings to talk to god, in ways i haven't done in years. probably made this the perfect time to have read this, because it struck such a resonant chord within me. this book is so genuinely beautiful and haunting and the only critique i could have of it is i want more. i want to know what yeshua told john after the end, and where their walk took them.
but i think that's part of having faith. you aren't going to get to know everything, and if you're truly devoted, you'll never stop searching nonetheless
but in college, my tentative ties to the faith only seem to come out when i'm interested in taking the mythologies and shaping them for my own writing, or reading other people's. because of this, jesus and john has been at the top of my tbr for a long time.
this whole past week i've been having strange urgings to talk to god, in ways i haven't done in years. probably made this the perfect time to have read this, because it struck such a resonant chord within me. this book is so genuinely beautiful and haunting and the only critique i could have of it is i want more. i want to know what yeshua told john after the end, and where their walk took them.
but i think that's part of having faith. you aren't going to get to know everything, and if you're truly devoted, you'll never stop searching nonetheless
Read
September 8, 2021Adam McOmber’s Jesus and John takes place in the days following Jesus’ crucifixion. Jesus returns from the dead as a shell of himself, unable to speak and seemingly unable to stop walking in a specific direction as if being pulled by a magnet. The man who was his lover, John, is assigned the duty of protecting Jesus as he walks. This brings them to Rome, to a mysterious house called the “Gray Palace.” Once inside the palace, John’s journey becomes much more than he bargained for.
Review by Katy Haas.
Review by Katy Haas.
July 6, 2020
But if the city around us was false, then what was the truth?
Author Adam McOmber's second novel joins his two short story collections and debut novel with a dive even deeper into the weird and fantastical.
John encounters Yeshua after His crucifixion and realizes his beloved has become something both more strange and less himself than what he once was. Together they set out for Rome, John following Yeshua still, this time not so much as His disciple but more as His protector, armed only with Peter's small knife and his love for Yeshua. Yeshua's stumbling shamble leads them to the mysterious Gray Palace and the ever-elusive Gray Lady.
McOmber's strength is his talent for disrupting and defamiliarizing expectations, so I will not lay out a plot synopsis that would rob readers of the shock of discovery. Suffice it to say, this is not your grandfather's version of the Resurrection or Jesus's relationship to John the Beloved. Questions lead to more questions, and what answers there are may not truly answer anything. But they do lead to a new understanding of faith, love, and the quest for truth.
McOmber writes in a clear, concrete prose with a direct and unornamented style that only makes the dreamlike visions he sculpts more strange and disruptive. The ground shifts beneath the reader's feet, just as it does for John as he tries to comprehend the mysteries he and Yeshua encounter on their journey. I found myself feeling great sympathy for John and moved by his simple faithful service to his friend, trapped in his impossible mission to take care of Yeshua while he struggled to understand the strange ways of the Gray Palace. John patiently asks his questions, over and over, often repeating the replies as though repetition will grind meaning out of their allusive non-answers. The character of Yeshua was more elusive, more inexplicable, even in John's memory of their time together as lovers before the crucifixion, a time when everyone loved to hear Yeshua's stories, but no one could quite remember afterward what He had said. In the midst of all the weirdness of setting and story, John's love for Yeshua, its physicality and hunger, were real and true, making this novel, among other things, a love story. Not a straightforward love story, like that explored in Madeline Miller's The Song of Achilles about Patroclus and Achilles, but a real and human connection made and maintained even amidst the weird.
Devout Christians will be upset by this book; readers drawn to edgy modern retellings of the Christ story gain a worthy addition to a shelf that might include The Last Temptation of Christ and The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ and the manga comedy series Saint Young Men Vol. 1; fans of New Weird horror and suspense may love it.
Author Adam McOmber's second novel joins his two short story collections and debut novel with a dive even deeper into the weird and fantastical.
John encounters Yeshua after His crucifixion and realizes his beloved has become something both more strange and less himself than what he once was. Together they set out for Rome, John following Yeshua still, this time not so much as His disciple but more as His protector, armed only with Peter's small knife and his love for Yeshua. Yeshua's stumbling shamble leads them to the mysterious Gray Palace and the ever-elusive Gray Lady.
McOmber's strength is his talent for disrupting and defamiliarizing expectations, so I will not lay out a plot synopsis that would rob readers of the shock of discovery. Suffice it to say, this is not your grandfather's version of the Resurrection or Jesus's relationship to John the Beloved. Questions lead to more questions, and what answers there are may not truly answer anything. But they do lead to a new understanding of faith, love, and the quest for truth.
McOmber writes in a clear, concrete prose with a direct and unornamented style that only makes the dreamlike visions he sculpts more strange and disruptive. The ground shifts beneath the reader's feet, just as it does for John as he tries to comprehend the mysteries he and Yeshua encounter on their journey. I found myself feeling great sympathy for John and moved by his simple faithful service to his friend, trapped in his impossible mission to take care of Yeshua while he struggled to understand the strange ways of the Gray Palace. John patiently asks his questions, over and over, often repeating the replies as though repetition will grind meaning out of their allusive non-answers. The character of Yeshua was more elusive, more inexplicable, even in John's memory of their time together as lovers before the crucifixion, a time when everyone loved to hear Yeshua's stories, but no one could quite remember afterward what He had said. In the midst of all the weirdness of setting and story, John's love for Yeshua, its physicality and hunger, were real and true, making this novel, among other things, a love story. Not a straightforward love story, like that explored in Madeline Miller's The Song of Achilles about Patroclus and Achilles, but a real and human connection made and maintained even amidst the weird.
Devout Christians will be upset by this book; readers drawn to edgy modern retellings of the Christ story gain a worthy addition to a shelf that might include The Last Temptation of Christ and The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ and the manga comedy series Saint Young Men Vol. 1; fans of New Weird horror and suspense may love it.
July 26, 2020
Reading this was such a strange, unique experience, even being familiar with McOmber's other published works and recognizing many of the themes. It builds slowly but, paradoxically, with a sense of impatience or desperation. And then the final quarter becomes a kind of steep pit you can't escape from and the pages start turning faster because the desperation has gotten under your own skin and you just need to know...
September 7, 2020
After devouring McOmber's short story collection, My House Gathers Desires, in one day, I was eagerly awaiting Jesus and John, which promised all of the weird, subtle, and Gothic elements of McOmber's short stories, while adding a heaping spoonful of queer and religious themes.
I was not disappointed.
Jesus and John draws on a variety of sources to weave its own complex mythology around the story of the resurrection, combining the VanderMeerian New Weird with elements of Early Christian belief, Gnosticism (well, what we have called Gnosticism), and pre-Christian philosophy. Central to all of this, however, is an arresting and provocative story about queer desire, and interpersonal connection.
In the novel, Jesus has returned from the dead, but his return is not as presented in the New Testament, and Jesus emerges seemingly vacated of his sense of self-- and the personality his disciple John came to love. As John cares for his former lover, the pair travel to Rome where they enter a mysterious house the promises to reveal sacred mysteries, but at a cost. As Jesus and John journey further into the house's halls, the wonderous and the horrifying unfold before them, and John comes to suspect that Jesus's connection to the house runs deeper than he initially suspected.
There's something deeply mesmerizing about Jesus and John. Like John himself, I felt compelled by the mysteries of the house to keep reading. For me, the book was just as unputdownable as VanderMeer's Annihilation, or the short fiction of Machado and Schweblin. When it comes to weird (and Weird) stories, there's a delicate balance that needs to be maintained--explain too much and the story falls flat, but if you don't give the reader enough context the narrative can feel listless and empty. McOmber boasts the deft hand of the best weird writers, and while the novel embraces its ambiguous elements, John's characterization provides an emotional anchor throughout the work.
I couldn't put this book down, and I recommend it to fans of the abovementioned authors, or anyone interested in fiction that combines the speculative with the literary.
I was not disappointed.
Jesus and John draws on a variety of sources to weave its own complex mythology around the story of the resurrection, combining the VanderMeerian New Weird with elements of Early Christian belief, Gnosticism (well, what we have called Gnosticism), and pre-Christian philosophy. Central to all of this, however, is an arresting and provocative story about queer desire, and interpersonal connection.
In the novel, Jesus has returned from the dead, but his return is not as presented in the New Testament, and Jesus emerges seemingly vacated of his sense of self-- and the personality his disciple John came to love. As John cares for his former lover, the pair travel to Rome where they enter a mysterious house the promises to reveal sacred mysteries, but at a cost. As Jesus and John journey further into the house's halls, the wonderous and the horrifying unfold before them, and John comes to suspect that Jesus's connection to the house runs deeper than he initially suspected.
There's something deeply mesmerizing about Jesus and John. Like John himself, I felt compelled by the mysteries of the house to keep reading. For me, the book was just as unputdownable as VanderMeer's Annihilation, or the short fiction of Machado and Schweblin. When it comes to weird (and Weird) stories, there's a delicate balance that needs to be maintained--explain too much and the story falls flat, but if you don't give the reader enough context the narrative can feel listless and empty. McOmber boasts the deft hand of the best weird writers, and while the novel embraces its ambiguous elements, John's characterization provides an emotional anchor throughout the work.
I couldn't put this book down, and I recommend it to fans of the abovementioned authors, or anyone interested in fiction that combines the speculative with the literary.
April 29, 2020
Three Words That Describe this Book: disorientation, allegory, immersive
Review in the May 1, 2020 issue of Booklist and on the blog: http://raforall.blogspot.com/2020/04/...
Review in the May 1, 2020 issue of Booklist and on the blog: http://raforall.blogspot.com/2020/04/...
July 29, 2021
My Booktube
First: I have no idea what I read but I liked it. Very trippy and I’m assuming Weird (that’s a genre title) fiction usually is.
Like simultaneously I have no idea what the ending meant but also it felt totally appropriate for the novel to end like that, in a good way.
This was very well-written and I did enjoy my time with it. And I feel like even though it is Weird, it wasn’t overwhelming once you get used to the fact this novel is more about dealing with the unknown and just how heavy/complex that can be.
A lot of ground is covered in this and I think you have to be ok with just not grasping everything to really get into it. The not-knowing is woven in such a way that it feels like it’s part of the text and not like it’s something that is holding you back from enjoying it.
First: I have no idea what I read but I liked it. Very trippy and I’m assuming Weird (that’s a genre title) fiction usually is.
Like simultaneously I have no idea what the ending meant but also it felt totally appropriate for the novel to end like that, in a good way.
This was very well-written and I did enjoy my time with it. And I feel like even though it is Weird, it wasn’t overwhelming once you get used to the fact this novel is more about dealing with the unknown and just how heavy/complex that can be.
A lot of ground is covered in this and I think you have to be ok with just not grasping everything to really get into it. The not-knowing is woven in such a way that it feels like it’s part of the text and not like it’s something that is holding you back from enjoying it.
April 20, 2025
I read this based on the recommendation of a person I follow on social media. They said the book "meant a lot" to them, and since I hold them in a space of respect, I thought I would read it, despite the premise (Jesus is not the Son of God - simply a rabbi who is John the Apostle's lover, and a rabbi whose spoken thoughts are misconstrued and "translated" by another Apostle, Peter.)
This is a queer horror tale. The queer part didn't bother me (although I do not believe Jesus had a sexual or romantic relationship with John) but the horror part did. The writing was good when I ignored the distracting amount of typos (multiple malapropisms and misspellings as in "snuggly" for "snugly" etc.) but it was disturbing on a level I haven't read before.
I finished it - I have given every book but two (On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous - though I may give that another try - and My Year of Rest and Relaxation) a chance to redeem itself. The ending was hackneyed, the point eluded me, and the nonsensical philosophical questions and answers presented were boring and silly.
Do not recommend.
This is a queer horror tale. The queer part didn't bother me (although I do not believe Jesus had a sexual or romantic relationship with John) but the horror part did. The writing was good when I ignored the distracting amount of typos (multiple malapropisms and misspellings as in "snuggly" for "snugly" etc.) but it was disturbing on a level I haven't read before.
I finished it - I have given every book but two (On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous - though I may give that another try - and My Year of Rest and Relaxation) a chance to redeem itself. The ending was hackneyed, the point eluded me, and the nonsensical philosophical questions and answers presented were boring and silly.
Do not recommend.
August 19, 2020
This book is quite a trip. It explores a number of themes from the Christian mythos which have not been adequately explored in fan fiction even if they occasionally seep into some bits of humor that isn't safe for general social sharing. The writing is exquisitely descriptive and resembles Patrick Rothfuss' The Slow Regard of Silent Things in its flow, but the plot itself resembles a shorter version of Clive Barker's Imagica. All in all, it amounts to one of those dreams you can't quite describe in the morning. Enjoyable journey even if I was hoping there was a detailed prequel to this story.
June 13, 2020
The newest speculative fiction novel by Adam McOmber contains not just the “weird” characters and events woven through artful prose that one would expect from this imaginative author, it also provides a tender love story of vulnerability and loss. The story moves along at a page-turning pace. One might describe it as The Odyssey meets Alien, in that like Odysseus, John must overcome an increasing series of challenges, and he must do so while trapped in a mysterious (and deceptively large) house, just as Ripley was trapped in a space ship. Fans of McOmber’s The White Forest will also like throwbacks to that book (including an indoor forest).
What this book is not is treatise poking fun at Christian beliefs. The premise of John and Jesus as lovers is not new. The story, however, quickly leaves the familiar world of biblical settings and characters. Those seeking speculative novels that take shots at organized religion (think Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series) won’t find much of that here, but they will find a gripping love story complete with mysterious dangers and lovely storytelling.
What this book is not is treatise poking fun at Christian beliefs. The premise of John and Jesus as lovers is not new. The story, however, quickly leaves the familiar world of biblical settings and characters. Those seeking speculative novels that take shots at organized religion (think Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series) won’t find much of that here, but they will find a gripping love story complete with mysterious dangers and lovely storytelling.
April 28, 2023
*4.5
It was a unique take on the resurrection, full of weird, magical realism happenings. I appreciate how McOmber never tried to sway the reader with a singular 'right' interpretation but was not shy about showing the personal gains of those involved, especially with the political/social struggles during the time.
Also, there is no trace of villanizing the LGBT+ individuals in this story, so how could I not enjoy this?
Safe to say, it's left me with such a haunting feeling I'm sure I'll still be thinking about this one for months to come.
It was a unique take on the resurrection, full of weird, magical realism happenings. I appreciate how McOmber never tried to sway the reader with a singular 'right' interpretation but was not shy about showing the personal gains of those involved, especially with the political/social struggles during the time.
Also, there is no trace of villanizing the LGBT+ individuals in this story, so how could I not enjoy this?
Safe to say, it's left me with such a haunting feeling I'm sure I'll still be thinking about this one for months to come.
August 5, 2024
I really enjoyed the concept of this book. I think people would read the description and assume it was written for the sake of being blasphemous, but I didn't read it that way at all. The world building was lovely and the characters well realized. As someone who grew up closeted and queer in a fundamentalist household, it felt really cathartic and beautiful to read a retelling of the Christian resurrection with Jesus and John in a loving relationship, all while incorporating elements of fabulism and horror. Really well done, and excited to see what this author comes up with next.
March 22, 2024
Adam McOmber’s novel Jesus and John is a rare matryoshka doll of a horror novel. It is a queer love story inside a historical recreation of Jesus fraternizing with the Apostle John inside a cosmic horror story seen through a lens of Gnosticism.
But please check out my full Dec20, 2020 book review at Plenitude Magazine, under the header, "Queer Pilgrimage: A Review of Adam McOmber’s Jesus and John".
https://plenitudemagazine.ca/queer-pi...
But please check out my full Dec20, 2020 book review at Plenitude Magazine, under the header, "Queer Pilgrimage: A Review of Adam McOmber’s Jesus and John".
https://plenitudemagazine.ca/queer-pi...
April 20, 2025
This is a book that appealed to me the moment I saw it, and it delivered on everything I had hoped it might be while still not being anything I could call ‘expected.’ If you like eldritch horror adjacency and are ex-Catholic or something similar (subversions are always more meaningful when you’re intimately familiar with the source material), give this book a shot — it’s a lovely little pearl you could read in a day. I know I’ll be coming back to it regularly.
September 8, 2025
This book is marketed as a queer retelling of the New Testament, but it’s really just a weird ass fever dream. It contains: empty shell zombie Jesus, giant worms a la Dune, moss infestations turning people into zombies a la The Last of Us, a big ass palace that defies the laws of physics and space-time, a dude dressed as a bird for some reason, and homophobia on top of all that bullshit. Honestly did not understand the plot but it was a fun quick read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Did Not Finish
October 17, 2025unfortunate DNF at 50%. it started out strong, very chilling, and fascinating, and then it became an endless, plodding walk with no answers to its constant questions and themes as well as an eventual premise that felt unoriginal and uninteresting compared to what was a creative setup. the plodding felt intensified by my reading this as an ebook. perhaps I should try this in physical form one day, but the story just wasn't what I thought it would be, sadly.
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