The back cover promised a Horla. The story of the fall of an American, settled in Paris. His initiation into black masses and occult rites. Libertine nights "more and more hard, between backrooms and dating apps". And it is true that L'Abîme reads like the diary of a madman. There is something transgressive about his language; He plays with temptation, the limits of reality and morality. But where Maupassant showed suggestion, Nicolas Chemla is, conversely, in expression. The feather is bare. Words, raw. The mystic is pornographic.
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The author writes about what is not seen, or should not be seen. And it must be said, he has a certain talent for voyeurism. The book opens with the description of a medieval, futuristic, neo-Gothic building, in which the famous American was found lying in his blood, feet bound, body crossed. His expression "between ecstasy and pain", "grace and horror"...
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