Anyone who has ever had to deal with the grief of losing a loved one knows that it can be like a private horror story that we whisper to ourselves. It’s an agony so personal it’s impossible to predict how you will respond to it. And unlike more unique types of pain or trauma, most of us will at one point in our life face grief of some sort – which is why it makes for such a compelling subject for horror.
“Wretch: or, The Unbecoming of Porcelain Khaw” by Eric LaRocca takes an approach to the genre that is particularly transgressive. “Wretch” is not the gentle story of a man overcome by grief facing his demons. It is a nightmarish glimpse into the mind of someone whose suffering has poisoned even their memories of the person they loved; someone who hates themselves for being so wretched in their grief.
After the death of his husband, Simeon seeks relief from his life-consuming grief by joining a secretive and unusual support group called “The Wretches.” When he struggles to find peace in their strange rituals, a member of the group introduces him to a mysterious figure known as “Porcelain Khaw.” Porcelain claims to be able to let the living visit their beloved dead, but the cost of this relief is far greater than it seems.
Every page is dripping with the pain of someone in a destructive spiral. The reader is invited to witness the things about Simeon that are intimate in their ugliness – we feel his pain, but we also share his self-indictment for the harm he causes the people who love him. The image of mirrors recurs throughout the story in bathrooms, the eyes of statues, or ripped as bloody fragments from Simeon’s own flesh – LaRocca symbolically inviting us to view ourselves through the mirror of Simeon’s suffering. Are we any more blameless than Simeon? Have we never lashed out in our own pain?
Another recurring motif is the concept of memory, the impermeability of our recollection of a person compared to their real flesh and blood. Simeon is terrified that he is slowly losing the mental picture of his beloved husband Johnathan, at one point literally ‘losing’ his face in a photograph he previously thought he could find their features in. But as the story progresses, we see that the memories are becoming corrupted in a way that is more disturbing, if no less relatable – Simeon is allowing his memories of John to become dishonest to the truth of him. In grief, Simeon sees his marriage through rose-colored glasses, but the reader comes to learn there was more beneath the surface that Simeon seems to have forgotten.
LaRocca invites the reader to consider the concept of a ‘reverse haunting’ where the living torment the dead – where we twist and wrench the specters of our loved ones to a more comforting purpose in death. “Wretch” forces us to wonder whether this common practice among the grieving is truly honest or harmless, or if when we force the memory of a ghost through the sieve of our own comfort that we dishonor the truth of the life they lived.
“Wretch” is an intense read, which may be more than some potential readers are prepared for. Its frequent departures into stream of consciousness, electronic communication, or journal entries may also be frustrating to those who prefer a more straightforward story – “Wretch” can at times be a struggle to follow. Beyond that, this novel takes the concept of an unreliable narrator to a new height, Simeon does not lie to the reader so much as he lies to himself.
“Wretch” will be released March 24th by Simon and Schuster. While it is a fantastic piece of fiction it is by no means for the faint of heart. LaRocca lists Clive Barker, Chuck Palahniuk and Dennis Cooper as his influences, and fans of their types of transgressive fiction will find something to enjoy in “Wretch.” It is an emotional reading experience, but also a compelling one – LaRocca’s pages shift from the cadence of the story to chatroom logs, journal entries, and grief-maddened rambles that all help paint the picture of a man tearing himself apart in grief.
It can hurt to read, but like the protagonist’s relationship with Porcelain Khaw, it hurts in a way that makes you want to keep coming back.