Psychros

by Charlene Elsby

A woman's lover commits suicide. Why does everyone expect her to grieve? What if he wasn't one of the good ones? Was his suicide another cruelty? Her grief and rage are expressed through increasingly violent sexual encounters with strangers, acquaintances, and past lovers. How many deaths does he deserve?

And why did he love death more than her?

Genres: Horror, Literary Fiction, Canada

140 pages, Paperback

Published October 12, 2021

Reviews

[Richard Martin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nobody writes quite like Charlene Elsby does and her trademark philosophical musings, pitch-black humour and uber-violent protagonists are all on display with her latest novella.

‘Psychros’ follows an unnamed protagonist whose boyfriend has recently committed suicide. After attending his funeral, she begins to seek out increasingly violent sexual encounters as a means of dealing with her grief, sending her deeper down into a path into psychosis.

This was my second time reading Elsby’s fiction, the first being her debut novella, ‘Hexis’, and ‘Psychros’ is similar in a lot of regards, namely a murderous female protagonist, and a story told largely via the leads own (often seemingly unrelated) internal thought processes. ‘Psychros’ differentiates itself in a number of ways however, not least that this is by far the most accessible piece of the two.

It is also incredibly funny, particularly in the earlier chapters and while ‘Hexis’ didn’t shy away from the dark humour, it wasn’t as overtly comedic as ‘Psychros’ can be. Given the dark themes being tackled, it’s a tough balance to strike to include some humour without downplaying the more serious elements, but the uniquely disjointed inner monologue of the protagonist helps strike the right tone where you can laugh out loud at her musings on the ‘relative density of buttocks’ or uproariously passive-aggressive coffee shop orders, without losing sight of the fact that this is a woman experiencing intense grief and slowly descending into madness.

The lead character is a big reason why the book works so well, in that she is fairly unlikeable and completely unrelatable in her actions, but is a completely sympathetic character nonetheless because her struggle with grief is universal. As she spirals further and further out of control, you can’t help but wish her circumstances were different and that she can find some semblance of, if not happiness, then at least normality.

Elsby opts for a more ‘traditional’ narrative with ‘Psychros’, using a linear narrative and effective pacing to tell its story. While we don’t immediately get a full picture as to what’s going on, hints and clues are sprinkled throughout, gradually pulling back the curtain on her current circumstances. The pacing is perfect, keeping just enough back to hook you in while giving away just enough to keep you engrossed.

Elsby doesn’t seem as concerned with the ‘what’ of the story, however, as she is with the ‘why’ (although readers shouldn’t expect clear answers to be forthcoming in that regard). Her lead isn’t so much an unreliable narrator, as she is one prone to let her mind wander, but it’s in these stream of conscious ramblings that the real insight lies. While Elsby’s work is not necessarily the most accessible and easy to read, there are few authors capable of getting into the minds of their characters as effectively, using seemingly unrelated thoughts to convey feeling and emotion that the character is feeling, but not expressing, and the result is a book as challenging as it is rewarding.

Psychros may polarise readers with its strange, discursive style and utter nonconformity to a traditional narrative but there is a fascinating, tragic and very human story within that is utterly engrossing if the book catches you in the right headspace. This book may not be to everyone’s tastes but a genuinely unique and distinctive voice in horror is something to be applauded nonetheless.

[Fraser Simons · Rating 5 out of 5]

Edit: so I bumped this up to 5 because I just did a video review and found I actually loved it a lot more than I expected when I talked about how clever it is at displaying gender dynamics and roles, agency, a logical minds descent and how that is situated in arguments now being “correct” and morally good, yet at odds with the behaviours of the protagonist.


A woman’s partner commits suicide and a woman becomes unhinged when it unearths past trauma and a myriad of unaddressed and y acknowledged feelings.

This is short and sweet. The voice, interestingly shifted from slightly annoying to exceptional flow a short way into it. As I got a grip on the plot beats and the first person narrative I landed on this being like the TV show Fleabag in tone and humour and, perhaps Virginia Woolf? It’s a stream of consciousness that has a lot of character. It’s wildly funny sometimes; a treat for me as I typically don’t get on with humour. But it’s witty and dark and perfect. I laughed full on for a minute due to a bathroom scene.

“Thank you for coming.”

And the cadence really puts you into the headspace of the narrator who reasons things out and often comes back to thoughts or chews them through for some time.

There is a plot but it’s quite short and more focused on the interiority of the character and illustrating, at least, to me, what unprocessed trauma looks like inwardly as well as outwardly. I see a woman who feels like she has completely no agency and is just careening from the strongest feeling she can identify with to the next.

The thing that struck me the most about it was, no one really seems to try to engage with her in any meaningful way. It would probably be very apparent. There are perfunctory questions that are essentially rhetorical, but otherwise all her engagements are pretty shallow and no semblance of real effort for a connection is attempted.

Though, this is all lies, in the end. There is no such thing as a reliable first person narrative. And the ending is fairly subjective, and does lean into the idea of a different interaction than was witnessed previous. Her rationale and keen observations and thoughts in relation to what is happening I found to be always riveting.

An easy read and easy 4 stars for me.

[Seb · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Perhaps madness was a choice one had to make."

For the main parts of the book, I felt cheated. The book description was nowhere near what I was reading. It actually felt more like a feminine David Foenkinos: dark humorous light story about love and grief (I don't like Foenkinos much ...).

Then it changed, gradually. And it became more of what I wished for. But: too late.

The majority of the book is too lighthearted and it lacks the raw darkness we get at the end of the book. Had it been more like the end, I probably would have liked this book more.

[Barry Paul Clark · Rating 5 out of 5]

Grief. Fuck.

[✮ osanna aoki ✮ · Rating 4 out of 5]

”He was not forced to put the gun to his head. That’s how they always try to frame it. The void didn’t twist his arms toward his face and pull the trigger. He wanted to, because he favored non-existence, nothingness— the void.”

An unnamed narrator maniacally grieves the death of her boyfriend, who decides to commit suicide.

Fuck him.

The author uses intrusive thoughts and incessant rambling as the writing style to portray the spiraling psychosis of the main character.

The book is simply word vomit.

But— the unnamed narrator is full of intelligence. Commentary on sex, death, and logic shoot rapidly from her mind with a bit of dark humor and a ton of philosophy.

This is a calculated, bleak woman who is almost…strategic about her grief.

There is very little emotion in this book— and in my opinion, it made it that much more interesting for me as a reader.

Grief is known to bring anger, heartache, sadness, guilt, fear, helplessness— the list of emotions is quite literally endless.

But to seemingly feel nothing at all?

Meaningless sex with men and a little murder are the only answers.

Maybe that is a form of grief, too. The human experience is vast.

First person narratives are tricky and subjective, and I think Charlene Elsby tackled this brilliantly. By leaving the reader with a cliffhanger and what feels like a flip-flop of character at the book’s end, it truly makes you think.

★ ★ ★ ★ stars to this maniacal, rambling book. I’d highly recommend it if you enjoy this type of writing style and if you can deal with a bleak, calculated character who seemingly grieves in a much darker way. What a unique take on the grief horror sub-genre.

[TVDKAA · Rating 5 out of 5]

They say that one of the stages of grief is anger.
What happens if you are a woman in this world, a world with microaggressions against your sex, and this fact makes you rightfully angry?
But where this righteous anger crashes into your anger-caused-by-grief and the two meld into an idea that her partner chose to remove himself from this life, did so as another form of aggression against her, the same as the ones men perpetuate against women daily.
This idea unhinging her in her time of grief.
But he is no longer here to punish and so you choose another.
.
Short, compelling and internally focused.
.
.
Recommended for: Those who enjoy inward driven novels to the extreme. It goes without saying that you enjoy the unhinged woman trope.

[korga · Rating 4 out of 5]

The most/concise fiercely/philosophical murder/grief novella I've read this year.

[Christian · Rating 4 out of 5]

“You could tell that the dynamics between them had been settled a long time ago. That didn't mean they didn't care about Charles; it meant they had formed detrimental habits that would prove harmful to Charles and many other people they would encounter throughout their lives, but they wouldn't know it.”

“For my part, let it be known that everything I did, I did because of a decision I had made. At no point was anything or anyone else responsible for what I did. I wonder whether anyone ever does anything not of their own will. I think he killed himself because he meant to.
There's a lot of talk about whether he was the victim of himself, but let it be known that he was not only the victim but the aggressor as well. While he was doing it, at every moment, he made a decision, and it was a decision against himself, but it was no less a decision. At some point they will say that I went mad, and at that point I became no longer responsible for my actions. Well, I want everyone to know that if I went mad, it was of my own free will. I decided to, and I did.”

“Fuck him do it anyway.
——— didn't deserve it.
Fuck him do it anyway.
He didn't deserve to die.
Fuck him do it anyway.
This shirt's already ruined.”

I cannot put it any better than B.R. Yeager has:
“Part of Elsby’s brilliance can be attributed to her ability and willingness to portray the calculating, obsessive, and frequently hideous truth of our interiors. Often, it can feel as though she’s lifting patterns of thought directly from inside your head. It can leave you vulnerable, shaking, wrecked. If you enter her worlds with a genuine desire for truth, you can find the most raw and ugly pieces of yourself, but maybe also transcendence and relief.”

[Benoit Lelièvre · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found Psychros to be a lot better than Charlene Elsby's previous book Hexis, but it could not have existed without it. This is a hard, wrenching, intimate look at grief and survivor's guilt from the little voice inside your head that nobody's supposed to hear.

The narrator's boyfriend committed suicide. While she's expected to mourn by her friends and loved ones, she doesn't. Matter of fact, she is living harder than she's ever been. She's living with a pulsating anger that controls her as much as she controls it. She meets men, uses them for her own purpose and meets other men, but she can't run away from the damage that was inflicted to her and it breaks her heart and pisses her off.

Elsby can be difficult to read sometimes because he writing consists of a series of almost stream-of-consciousness thoughts. But amidst the violent, conflicting ideas are the ones that will make you feel seen and heard, whether you like it or not.

[Brian Bowyer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved it.

PSYCHROS was the first book I've read by Charlene Elsby, and it certainly will not be my last. This is a fast, violent, beautifully-written tale that I blazed through in two sittings. I'm still thinking about the ending, and already have HEXIS on my Kindle. Highly recommended!

[Marc Nash · Rating 4 out of 5]

Video review https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RS9rD...

[Will · Rating 4 out of 5]

This bitch is really going through it huh

[Andrew Schultheis · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 rounded up to 4

[Dave Fitzgerald · Rating 5 out of 5]

So, real talk folks. This is my second Charlene Elsby book in as many months, and I am not ok.

If Musos – Elsby’s disappearing-ink diary of wretched male obsession from earlier this year – ported readers inside the poisonous mind of a homicidal rapist, then its predecessor, Psychros, does much the same for its grief-wracked female protagonist: a scorched-earth pretty hate machine hellbent on redressing her ex-lover’s suicide in full. In both books, Elsby engulfs the reader in an oppressive interiority, draping her characters’ damaged psyches over our heads and slowly, diabolically, cinching them ‘round our necks, until all we can see is just how snugly they might fit us. Even if you think it’s you who’s getting inside these characters’ minds, rest assured, by the time you’re finished with them, you’ll never get them out of yours again.

The woman at Psychros‘s dark heart is a fraying knot of omnidirectional rage, simultaneously constricting inward, and threatening to burst outward from that same intensive pressure. The self-policing minutia of performing normalcy presents for her a constant, and increasingly dispensable exercise in theatre of the absurd (a sequence in which she painstakingly plots out the lengths to which she must go to conceal a morning bath from an overnight guest is one of the funniest – and truest – depictions of our society’s post-millennial hyper-neuroticism I’ve ever read), and illustrates in exacting detail an internal push/pull we can all relate to on some level in the social media age: “If I think about other people this much, how much must they think about me? If I hate, and judge other people this much, how much must they hate and judge me?”

And all that’s really just setting the stage – the better to help us understand when she starts hatcheting through the floorboards. See, the bulk of Psychros concerns its fast-unraveling protagonist hurling herself headlong into a barrage of conflictingly violent, sexual impulses, slashing at the soft tissue between fantasy and reality – self-harm and murder – as she weaponizes her relentless survivor’s guilt (or perhaps, survivor’s envy?) against herself, and everyone around her; everyone save the one person with whom she’s truly angry; the one person now permanently out of reach. The analytical detachment with which she approaches this self-destructive onslaught of postmortem revenge sex – from the manipulative ease with which she purveys it for herself, to the punishing ferocity with which she engages in it, to the (decidedly male) on/off switchability she demonstrates once she’s gotten what she (ahem) came for – may well have you swearing off casual hookups for the foreseeable future. But whether you find the above description terrifying or titillating, be forewarned: Charlene Elsby does not care about your tender little boy feelings. She is here to consume men’s souls.

Though Musos and Psychros are not narratively related, it’s hard not to see them as companion pieces of a sort, especially when the latter states outright a seemingly connective question: “Why do men take out their pain on other people, and women on themselves?" Our antiheroine stands armed and at the sharptongued ready with a panoply of answers rooted in psychology, philosophy, feminist theory, and the kind of infuriatingly should-be-common sense that is often only clarified via firsthand victimization, but at the root of all her visceral anguish and vibratory rage, one quote from this endlessly quotable book stands out: “He killed himself not because he couldn’t imagine the future, but because he could.”

Now, you might say “isn’t a man committing suicide the very definition of him taking his pain out on himself?” but I would argue that, via this single, perfect line, Elsby rather encapsulates the elegant design of her cross-purpose: examining suicide not as a “cry for help,” but as a purely selfish act. An indictment against life, and a direct attack on those left behind (and by extension, grief as a form of masochism). It’s an extraordinarily taboo take, and in allowing her character the traditionally off-limits space to be an unhappy, unfiltered, and royally pissed off near-misandrist – to explode like a pipe bomb, and shrapnel her grief across a smoldering landscape of disappointing men – she has gifted it as brilliant a devil's advocate as it could possibly hope for; a brutal, penetrative, and morbidly self-aware narrator on par with anything time-honored and much-beloved near-misogynists like Brett Easton Ellis, Neil Labute, and Michel Houellebecq have ever offered. Furthermore, in fearlessly saying aloud the kinds of things most people are afraid to even admit they think to themselves, she joins contemporaries like Ottessa Moshfegh and Lindsay Lerman in an exciting new wave of dark feminist literature – one that taps into that supposed deeper level of emotionality oft-attributed to the fairer sex, and gleefully, furiously turns it back against anyone who dared presume it only cut one way. Tender little boys beware.

[Sandra · Rating 2 out of 5]

I found this short novel to be difficult to read. The narrative was incoherent and was not a pleasant reading experience.

[Thomas Kendall · Rating 5 out of 5]

'Lachesis was the second of the Moirai, or Fates, and her role was to measure the thread of a human’s life. Her name translates as “the Allotter” which fits her role as the one who allots a portion of mortal life to each soul. Lachesis would determine how long a human would live, and hence how many trials they would face in their life. Within the thread lay the fate of each soul...The third sister was Atropos, whose name translates as “the un-turnable or she who cannot be turned.” Her name refers to her unshakeable position as the most stubborn of the Fates. Atropos was the one to cut the thread of fate, and at the point of the cut, the mortal life would end. Thus, Atropos resembles the death of a human...Atropos’ role was vital, she chose how each person would die. She decided on the circumstances of their death — whether that was nobly or ignobly, was up to her."

In Psychros it is as if Elsby's narrator, having found their own existence come untethered at the hands of another, desires to become a Fate by way of a fury. They rage through these pages in a relentless maelstrom of sex, violence and blood.

Anger, disgust, hatred these are the human emotions that I believe most resist representation, simulation, or evocation but Elsby succeeds due to the strong philosophical underpinnings of her work which are skillfully threaded into the narrative. These range from pithy statement regarding what it means to have a type, to disquisitions on the nature of good and evil, objectification and subjectivity etc. So subtly are these woven into the narration, and so acutely observed, that their effect becomes cumulative lending the ending a sensation of genuine horror and tension despite its seeming inevitability

[simone · Rating 2 out of 5]

Lots of thoughts about this book. Here's the thing. I thought it was good, but some things got in the way of liking it a lot. The first thing is more of a language thing. I thought all the book's general themes were excellent and thought-provoking, and I loved the internal monologue format. HOWEVER. Some of the sentences just lacked coherence to me. Maybe a little too run-on, probably a me thing.

The second thing is the ending. I liked it, and I THINK I knew what happened, but I honestly am not sure. Which is fine, totally good with an open ending, but I really think that it was less of an open ending and more of a confusing one. WHICH, AGAIN, is fine, but maybe this just requires a little more thought. The third thing is my biggest problem with the book.

Namely, plot holes. I think this book has some (big?) little plot holes that got in the way of me enjoying the story and getting fully immersed. The biggest one that caused me the most irritation was the fact that she had GLASS IN HER BACK FOR THE ENTIRE SECOND HALF OF THE STORY. YOU'RE TELLING ME SHE WASN'T AFFECTED AT ALL? HOW DID THAT LAST GUY NOT NOTICE THAT SHE WAS BLEEDING THROUGH HER SHIRT? I understand the fact that she might be a psychopath or whatever, but I find it really hard to believe that she just wasn't affected at all, and no one around her noticed.

Ultimately, I liked the book content-wise, but I kind of feel like all these little pet peeves accumulated and tarnished my reading experience.

[Peter Rosch · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sometimes the right book finds you at the right time. Shakes you from the slumber of your layered cynicism. I knew that I’d read this book, knew just enough about Elsby and Psychros to know the possibilities it held would haunt me if I didn’t, even so, I’m grateful I walked into this story with mostly limited information. I tore through quite a few novels last year, and, of course, many of them were very good, but only a handful have stayed with me deep into this year. And this one tops the list. Beyond an intense and original premise in which humor and the macabre are blended authentically, there is a voice so unique that I’ve struggled to develop a worthy elevator pitch to ensure the story haunts and inspires the friends who ask me for reading recommendations. Sometimes, all you can do is say, I loved it, and hope those friends know you well enough to remember that you rarely, if ever, say that at all.

[Mila Jaroniec · Rating 5 out of 5]

"This is how humans demonstrate power relations, by one of them leaving a mess for another."

I don't know what happened to my original review, it probably got deleted as I removed and reorganized books on the digital shelves, but ANYWAY. PSYCHROS. A simple but complex story told in philosophical two-step, with garden variety human emotion turned on its head. Per my original review, a wholly unique cerebral death romp. If you're sick of contemporary protagonists having zero self awareness and awareness of other selves, this is the book for you. Charlene Elsby is in a class all her own.

Full print review forthcoming.

[Alex Delogu · Rating 4 out of 5]

Perhaps my favourite writing stylist at the moment. Elsby's writing in general is just a wonderful use of philosophical thought to nefarious ends: murder; revenge; assault; self-destruction. The infection of logic into daily life reveals bizarrely detached adventures through life. I find this creates some deliciously dark humour. In Psychros it's as though grief is unable to be felt and becomes lodged purely in logic, leading to a monstrous series of attempted reconciliations. The gender commentary in this is as illuminating as it is brutal.

[brigid masaire · Rating 5 out of 5]

need a freak like this!!!

first off, the b.r. yeager blurb got me to blind-buy this. absolutely stellar read. black humor and philosophical waxing at the intersection of sex and grief. elsby's protagonist is calculating and manic in all the right ways and her prose is absolutely to die for - there are at least a half dozen perfect pages in this little volume. for something so short it offers a lot to chew on in regard to the Widow™ or Grieving Woman™ in a culture of misogyny.

insane and sharp as glass fucked into your back.

[Ali G · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was such an interesting book. A woman dealing with grief, completely unhinged and ultra-violent! I feel like it deals with survivors guilt, very well - considering the murderous narrator and incoherent intrusive thoughts.

[Andrea · Rating 4 out of 5]

A mad descent into and inside the mind of a girl who has lost her boyfriend to suicide. I love the rambling, overly-analytical thought processes that feel so familiar and honest, as a female with a brain that works the same way. It was funny and smart and strange and dark.

[K · Rating 5 out of 5]

A rather short book and quick read that belies it’s intensity. I have a feeling I’ll be thinking about this book for a long time.

[Mary Shellhammer · Rating 1 out of 5]

Won on good reads. I did not like. No storyline to speak of.

[Eric Gershman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Crazy fun

MS Elsby has written a modern American Psycho that is as impossible to put down as it is to forget.

[Stephanie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Only Charlene Elsby could make a suicide hilarious.

[C.L. Methvin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Made me laugh times over as it alternates rhythmically between dark humor & musings on life, lack of life, & the motivations surrounding both states.
You might need to be in a certain mood for it, but then words fly off the page.