Review of The Works of Vermin by J. D. Ennes
From the moment I stumbled upon The Works of Vermin, I was intrigued. J. D. Ennes had already dazzled me with their debut Leech, a masterclass in gothic storytelling, but this new endeavor promised something altogether more audacious and experimental. I was ready for a literary adventure that would tiptoe on the edges of the bizarre, and boy, did it deliver! Ennes has crafted a story that is not merely read but is deeply experienced—a psychedelic plunge into a stunningly grotesque universe.
At its heart, The Works of Vermin intertwines the lives of two vividly rendered characters: Guy, a pest exterminator moonlighting as a sex worker, and Aster, a perfumer with a tragic past marred by war. Their lives converge amidst a backdrop of chaos, in a city that sparkles with danger and dark beauty. Both seem to be chasing after something more—a way to survive in a world swirling with insatiable, intoxicating corruption. The premise alone teeters between horror, dark fantasy, and science fiction, a beautiful genre smash-up that Ennes navigates with thrilling confidence.
The themes of transformation and decay come alive in this rococo bugpunk narrative. It’s a world where political movements masquerade as art and opera is treated as a bloodsport. The dazzling prose feels like something you could get drunk on, every sentence rich with a feverish intensity that pulls you deeper into its web. Perhaps it’s this intoxicating style that compelled me to read the book not once, but twice—an experience I suspect I may repeat in the near future.
The writing is nothing short of exquisite—a real tour de force. Ennes possesses a unique ability to blend the surreal with sharp social commentary, crafting a riveting reflection on human nature amid the chaos of survival. The narrative flows with a pace that mirrors the delirium of a fever dream, transporting readers into a haunting hallucination that feels impossibly rich and textured. I was particularly taken by the recurring motifs, glimmering like hidden treasures amidst the elaborate tapestry of the tale. One such gem is the line: "Heads will roll like fruit, but he knows those that fall will be the ripest, not the rotten." It encapsulates the essence of this grotesque world and its haunting beauty.
What truly resonates in this relentless narrative is how Ennes explores the darker corners of humanity—through the lens of ecdytoxin, a substance that warps all it touches. The exploration is not gratuitous; rather, it pricks at our conscience, urging us to reflect on the nature of creation and destruction. The narrative feels organic yet intricately crafted—a perfect union of precision and passion. I love this blend of horror and hope, grotesqueness and beauty—all mingling into something unfathomable yet profoundly resonant.
I wholeheartedly recommend The Works of Vermin to fellow readers who relish the wild bends of imagination. If your taste leans towards fever-dream narratives riddled with bizarre forces and rich symbolism, this is your next obsession. It’s a book that dares to challenge genres and bend reality, leaving you spellbound long after the final page.
In a world desperate for art that stirs the soul and ignites the imagination, Ennes shines brightly as a trailblazer. Prepare to be obsessed—you won’t find a cure.