Book Review… Author Captures The Dark Side Of Life

Dec 09, 2018 Book Review…, Features / Columnists

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Book: Death Register
Author Dwight Thompson
Critic: Glenville Ashby, PhD

Author Dwight Thompson squeezes the last sliver of hope in humanity. Unapologetically, he lures us into the darkest chamber of the twisted mind.
A single experience can offset a planned trajectory, and a single experience can doom the most favoured among us. Such is the haunting lesson of Death Register. Amid childhood chivalry, bravado and adventurism there persists a macabre ‘spirit’ poised to unleash unspeakable madness.
The setting is Jamaica’s lively Montego Bay. It is where sexual fantasies are played out for the young and old. It is here that the oldest profession is readily sought and where patriarchy runs roughshod over the wiliest. This is the alluring place where Thompson’s young actors, attendees of Chester College, navigate the demands of academia and the siren call of the streets.
Thompson is detailed, never tempting to barrel through his work. We walk through scenes of academic promise and those of sexual gore, violence and murder.
Life swirls around these young men at a dizzying pace and rites of passage take place sooner rather than later. There is no haste to see them graduate, so we indulge in the author’s grinding mill.
Surely, there is levity, but it is ephemeral. Bursts of banter blanket pitch battles against latent homosexual impulses. It is a war of attrition that drives the boys into a frenzied world of violence. Vibrating ominously, the world changes colour. A childhood already teetering on despair collapses under the weight of an evil that spreads its cancer to the unsuspecting.
Young Chauncey desires to follow in the footsteps of literary giants. He’s intuitive and empathic, his roaming thoughts producing unnerving narratives that foretell, at least figuratively, evil’s assault on the world. His character, though, is dwarfed by his strikingly handsome and introspective friend, Tristan, who must surmount a challenging upbringing. But no one can fully grasp his bedeviled mind, a mind that will draw unspeakable devastation.
Sexual assault on children disembowels every seed of goodness. The psychological scars run deep, metastasizing beyond the soul of the victim. It spreads, jarring the psyche of unfortunate witnesses.
“You are born in this world like every other man; you can beat it like every other man,” one of the boys argued during one of their many trysts. What follows bores a hole into that statement.
Tristan descends into a world of gangs and prostitution. As Chauncey observers, “Tristan was now against the world,” a cruel world that ensnared him to never let go. Tristan can no longer love, or feel. He sexually rages against the world and himself. Every blow he lands on a prostitute is a skewed attempt for feeling.
Chauncey relives the shocking episode: “He began hitting her about the face till her eyes watered and her face turned red. She could only moan stunned by the assault. He steadied himself and stepped off the bed, his chest heaving, beads of sweat wetting his face.”
Gang violence, gun trafficking, a police execution and a murdered teenager are reminders of human filth that just cannot be easily effaced.
Chauncey scrambles to recall his feelings after stumbling upon a sexually abusive scene: “I ran up the stairs, ran into the bathroom, locked the door, thinking I was about to vomit but then found myself unable to breathe. I knelt on the floor, massaging my throat, trying to force my airway open.”

A foreboding reality seeps into his veins slowing transforming light into darkness. Optimism, hope seemingly forever lost. He utters, “The black hands of fate. They are summoning someone’s death.”
Interestingly, one of Chauncey’s short stories captures the overall thrust of Death Register. He recounts the victimization of a girl and a distraught mother seeking answers. A revivalist is summoned, employing his surgical gift to identify the perpetrator. His incantation works with disastrous results:
“In the morning everyone on earth had a shadow except for this man… when he puts his hand over his chest he doesn’t feel a heartbeat. Food and drink have no taste. He never again takes a shit, never again passes urine, never again sweats or sleeps. He can’t even shed tears for his miserable state. The community banishes him. Now he roams the land after sunset, leaving behind no footprints.”
Equally telling is another tale from Chauncey imagination: “It’s about a man who is corrupted and sees corruption everywhere he goes. He goes to a restaurant and when his meal arrives he stares at the plate and there’s a maggot crawling at the edge of the beef. A maggot is in his brain too…”
Not surprisingly, it is Tristan who leaves his friend with the most enduring ontological commentary: “No one corrupted you, you were always rotten to your core”.

Feedback: glenvilleashby@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter@glenvilleashby
Death Register by Dwight Thompson
© 2018 Dwight Thompson
Publisher Peepal Tree, UK
ISBN 13: 9781845234072
Available at Amazon
Ratings: Recommended

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