In Conversation with the Absurd: A Review of The Works of Vermin by Tade Thompson Ennes
From the moment I heard about The Works of Vermin, I felt an irresistible tug—a strange connection, as if the book itself was beckoning me into its labyrinthine depths. Tade Thompson Ennes, whose debut Leech haunted my literary dreams, was returning with what promised to be a frenzied exploration of consciousness wrapped in a vivid, bugpunk tapestry. I dove in, and, wow, did it deliver on that promise—exquisite, flawless, toxic perfection!
At its core, The Works of Vermin thrives on an exhilarating blend of themes that intertwine art, politics, and the grotesque in a way that makes your pulse race. We meet Guy, a pest exterminator who moonlights in a morally grey world to care for his feral sister, and Aster, a perfumer with lungs ravaged by war. Their paths collide in a city on the brink—fire and chaos juxtaposed against the meticulous beauty of Aster’s olfactory artistry. The backdrop is nothing short of a beautifully grotesque fever dream, with the bug at its center producing a mind-altering ecdytoxin that warps reality as we know it.
As I immersed myself in the narrative, I couldn’t help but admire how Ennes approached storytelling with the dexterity of a baroque craftsman. The prose is intoxicating, so lush and vibrant, it invites you to get lost in it. It’s the kind of writing you want to sip slowly, like a fine wine, but I found myself chugging it down feverishly. Just when I thought a passage was exquisite, the next one would shatter all my expectations, pulling me deeper into the labyrinth of Ennes’ imagination.
A standout element for me was the way Ennes crafted the characters. Guy and Aster are beautifully flawed—their motivations clash, intertwine, and evolve, and by the end of the story, I felt like I had been privy to something intimate and personal. The supporting characters, including a surreal assortment of odd figures, only serve to heighten the experience. They embody the chaotic beauty of the world, where art can rise from ruin like phoenixes, or perhaps more accurately, grotesque weeds.
One quote from the book that resonated with me encapsulates its essence: “Heads will roll like fruit, but he knows those that fall will be the ripest, not the rotten.” It’s a stark reminder of the nature of chaos—there’s beauty even in destruction. And oh, how Ennes revels in that duality! The societal critiques embedded within the fantastical elements feel deliberate and pointed without ever feeling preachy—a special kind of brilliance.
In conclusion, if you’re a fan of genre-bending narratives that blur the lines between horror, dark fantasy, and sci-fi, The Works of Vermin is your next obsession. It’s a fever dream crafted with both horror and allure, every page dripping with brilliance and danger. You may find yourself reading it twice, as I did, caught in the delightful chaos of Ennes’ masterpiece. This book is not just worth reading; it’s worth losing yourself in. So grab a copy, settle in, and prepare for an unforgettable journey. You won’t just read it; you’ll experience it—body and soul.
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