Review of Posthumous Remorse

[Radhika Nair]

[Following is a volunteer review of "Posthumous Remorse" by Shepperd Rourke.]

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4 out of 4 stars

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Let me state right at the outset that Posthumous Remorse by Shepperd Rourke is a controversial book and readers are of course free to agree or disagree with anything I say in my review or that the author has said in his book. Though I don't entirely agree with the author, I don't believe that he has nothing of value to offer either. I also know that despite any arguments in defence of this book, theists will take offence at its very vocabulary, and not altogether unreasonably so. That’s all for the disclaimers; I will now move on to the review proper.

Taylor Swift summed up my feelings for this book when she said "you're so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face". I couldn't stop reading it, partly because there is little punctuation, but mostly because it swept me along and away like a riptide. The vocabulary is sophisticated and I had to Google many words, but it did not disrupt my enjoyment at all. The flow is impeccable, and though not usually rhythmical, it does often maintain sublime music by the word choice and arrangement. This book is a veritable artistic jewel, a multi-sensory experience that defies the boundaries of diverse art forms and brings them together to make its point.

Structurally, this vaguely autobiographical book has four parts dealing with different but interrelated themes. Its grammar and formatting are unconventional, its language by turns sophisticated and profane. The content is sometimes repetitive, and largely in the form of erratically formatted poetry and poetic prose. Thematically, it talks about drug addiction (a whole lot), sex and failed relationships, suicidal impulses (briefly), violence and abuse, miscarriage (passing mention), abandonment, and criticizes religion (abundantly). The phraseology is brilliant. In terms of quality, this book is elusive and evocative, dream-like, inspired, and utterly confusing. It is nonsense in the sense that its sense is counterintuitive and will probably not make sense if the reader is bent on making sense of it. It feels like an acid trip, but before condemning it for that, remember Coleridge's Kubla Khan. It also reminds me of T. S. Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. As a drug addict, the author may not have been too different from Eliot’s "patient etherized upon a table".

Regarding religion, the author's main objection is what he considers its irrationality, coded barbarity, and incendiary potential. Readers will of course make of this what they will, regardless of any evidence for or against the offered critique, but I for one believe it bears thinking about. The author’s critique of hell is charged with a Blakean spirit; his point about the concept of hell being evidence of "man's inhumanity to man" in particular vaguely reminds me of Blake's A Divine Image, while the quoted phrase itself is from Robert Burns' Man Was Made to Mourn. Further, Blake said of Milton that he was "of the Devil's party without knowing it". Well, this author is knowingly of the Devil's party, because he sees the Devil as a scapegoat who has to contend with God's existence against his will, much like atheists are forced to contend with the globally pervasive reality of religion. The book conveys, among other things, the author's severe discontent with the world as it is. Yet for all its darkness, this book has a splash of light and beauty. I invite interested readers to look for it.

This is not the kind of book to generate so unambiguous a response as enjoyment or dislike. It will either merge with the reader's psyche or be utterly repelled by it. I appreciate this book, not for something it has or does, but simply because it is as it is. It defies description and insists upon being experienced. The editing is immaculate; not an error in sight. There is absolutely nothing in it that can be condemned in isolation from the rest. The book as a whole will either be celebrated or despised. I humbly give it 4 out of 4 stars. Dare I say that anyone who disagrees as to its genius is not a suitable match for this book, as the author well knows. I'm pleased and honoured that I got along with it fine. I aggressively recommend this book to all mature enjoyers of modernist poetry and the modernist movements across the arts (painting, music, literature, drama, and film). Readers who are sensitive to this book’s themes must exercise caution; those unfamiliar with the artistic tradition that it is a part of must approach it with an open mind, if at all, and at their own peril. This book is unsuitable for young readers on account of its profanities and general complexity.

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Posthumous Remorse
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[Patel Khushi Manishbhai]

This was one of the best reviews I have read. And I don't like to butter. It is hard to find people who are obsessed with Eliot or Byron. I don't ever bother to mention Tennyson.
"Poetry is what gets lost in translation."
- Robert Frost

[Nwansimdi Mercy Someze]

Posthumous Remorse by Shepperd Rourke is a controversial work that might challenge readers' perspectives. I love how you acknowledges disagreement but recognizes that the book holds some value. The potential for offense, especially among theists, is mentioned.