Book Title: The Friendship
of Mortals
ISBN 9780986636905
Part of Series: The Herbert
West Trilogy
Author: Audrey
Driscoll
Available at: Smashwords
Price: Free
Number of words (approximately): 154 257
Star Rating (of five): 4
Summary: In this
psychological thriller, an innocent man is drawn into a scheme to bring
deceased persons back to life. Set in
the early years of the last century, it develops from apparently innocent
beginnings to a climax of experimentation on unwilling subjects
Extract: (A selection of extracts is given, to illustrate the writing)
- And here is the little door. Insert the key with trembling fingers, and
turn. The latch clicks and the door opens, revealing a thin slice of darkness.
Let me pause a moment before venturing inward.
Intentions straight? Resolution in place? -
- I lost myself in the overlapping waves of pure
sound, unfolding and unfolding around me until I felt myself to be in the
middle of a crystal globe suspended in a gulf of sunlight. From the first
notes, I was borne upward by the voices, clear sopranos and deep baritones,
floating on the sunlit air charged with dust motes. I was more than usually
moved, probably because of the strangeness and potential dangers of the things
about which West had told me, and the need to come up with an answer for him
the next day. -
- We made no promises to one another, Alma and I. It would not have been in keeping
with what we had been to one another. I was left with hopes, but not
expectations. We walked up and down the platform, talking of trivia. I wanted
this pointless interlude to continue forever, and I couldn’t wait for it to
end. When it did end and the train was pulling away, Alma waving to me through her window, I wished
that I could reverse time, just a little. Was it something like this agonized
desire that drove West in his efforts to reverse death? If so, I could almost
begin to understand his ruthless single-mindedness.
It is always more difficult to be left than to leave.
The one leaving has new situations to occupy him or her, new people and places
to take in and cope with. The one left behind, on the other hand, has only that
which occupied his attention before, but without the presence of those who are
no longer there. And in my case there was besides an envy of the new adventures
that West and Alma had embarked upon, and which I was unable to. -
- While one of Villard’s assistants packed my
purchases into cartons, Villard turned to me and said, “Alchemy is a
fascinating subject. Have you read much about it?”
“Not systematically,” I replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I was quite interested in it once. Oh, don’t
imagine me with crucibles and alembics. I’m too lazy for that, and too clumsy,
if you must know. But there’s a mystical side to it. So many things can be
viewed in an alchemical sense. It fairly cries out for analogies. And far from
being a dead thing of medieval times, it was practiced, both in the practical
and spiritual sense, until quite recently. Maybe still is, by some. And it
unites pre-Christian thinking with some of the central mysteries of Christianity.”
I thought about this on the way home. Whether because
of my delving into the Quarrington material or for some other reason, I had
lately begun to suspect that there were subtle connections between seemingly disparate
parts of the world. Sometimes I thought I could hold up two thoughts, as it
were, one from the part of my mind that reasoned and analyzed, one from the
part that felt and guessed, and see a kind of kinship between them, as though a
door had opened between two sealed chambers. -
- Long ago, West explained to me that energy is stored
in chemical bonds and that the breaking of those bonds releases it into the
world. I wonder if something analogous happens with human experiences, with lives,
with relationships. In the seething welter of human interactions, as
friendships are formed and broken, as passions are felt and expressed, vast
amounts of psychic energy must be released. Where does it go? How is it used? I
do not know, but find a little comfort in the thought that some unknown force
must control these dynamics, just as the known cycle of organic growth and
decay drives physical life. Even as the rotting leaves in Michael O’Connor’s
compost heaps sustained the flowers in my mother’s gardens, so perhaps the
breaking of the bonds between Alma, Herbert and myself, the hidden turmoils of
our lives, the energies released when body and spirit part, in some way served
to sustain the eternal mystery. Or so I hope. -
Reviewer’s Comments:
Structure: The book is
well structured with an elegant use of the English language.
Content: The story line
develops from a desire by a brilliant medical student to find the essence of
life, and what occurs when death intervenes.
The early partial successes encourage an estranged personality to
undertake wilder and more dangerous experimentation. This book is not for everyone.
Reviewer’s Comments: ‘The
Friendship of Mortals’ took an unusually long time for me to read, because the
language used, quite apart from the story, is a work of art in itself. On several occasions, I felt a need to read a
particular sentence or paragraph to my associates and friends. On each of those occasions, the response was
of profound admiration for the skill of Audrey Driscoll. This book is a work of art, a lesson in
writing. It is a book that I will read
over and over, simply for the pleasure that the use of the language gives me.
Karin B
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