Purefinder

London, 1858: a child is dead, a man is blamed, and dragged through hell - why is he persecuted and who is his persecutor?

Is it possible to write a book that is part metaphysical, part travel diary and part vicious satire through the means of a slightly gothic Victorian mystery? The answer is yes, even if it does come across as a bit muddled.

Purefinder has multiple themes running through it. At face value, it could be taken as a story of a man, Bryn 'Purefoy' Lewis, who loses everything he cares about and is dragged though London on a bizarre journey by a stranger who seems to know all about him. On another level it could be seen as an exploration of London itself and how times have little changed between its 18th century settings and now. It could also be seen as an hallucinatory view of a men's descent into the river styx and his rebirth.

If that sounds confusing, well I suppose that's because it is at times. Know this going in; Purefinder is a smart book. Very smart. Almost tortuously so at times. It twists and turns through a complex landscape that is part reality and part psychosomatic, all undercut with the knowledge of what will be. Its a book that has very little illusions about the effects power and money have on us and how the pursuit of it destroys us. It makes a statement that to grasp the entire horror of our existence would either drive you mad or drive you to suicide, for our fragile egos could not stand before such bleakness.

Its a book the gripped and frustrated me in equal measure. But such is the nature of books like this. If a horrific descent into hell via 24 hours spent in Victorian London sounds appealing, give this a read. Its certainly worth it for the morbid and sometimes terrifying images conjured up by whatever daemon Ben Gwalchmai is channelling.

Just be aware you may have not read much like it before.

Cover image courtesy of Cosmic Egg

Purefinder is available from Amazon.