Dennis1
07-29-2013, 11:58 PM
I took notice of this book when I saw its promotional poster screensaver image on flickr. The artwork and literary excerpt teaser that was a part of the poster intrigued me enough to get a copy. I liked it quite a bit, so I decided to expend a bit of effort responding to it.
During The Entrant’s best and refreshingly frequent moments, author Joseph Martin leaves the reader feeling as though there really is a mystical nature to the word’s power in the most possessive sense. From the onset of this quintessentially allegorical work, the reader is confronted with the inherently evocative possibilities of an eternal realm that is newly interpreted, accessible, and just as strangely believable—yikes! Although it is conceded in the introductory material that the story is merely entertaining narrative fiction, the reader soon-after gets a sense of presence about the whole, that the “it’s just a made up story” line is itself merely a form of disclaimer fiction.
Spellbinding it is to follow the testimony of first-century protagonist, Lucious (I’m thinking, “loo-shus”), down from a vacated tomb’s earthquake-caused access to a lower geologic plate where he discovers the technological remains of a pre-Adam civilization. Inadvertently activating one of the signal-producing items thereof, and then telepathically perceived by an immortal survivor of that epoch, Ekron then teleports Lucious to where he has been judgmentally confined for centuries within an alternate plane of existence, within a “chamber of timelessness” as termed by this prisoner Ekron. Although circumstantially inhibited personally, and yet retaining a substantial measure of once-commonplace (pre-Adamic) preternatural endowments, Ekron regards this Lucious-incident as a means to remedy the ultimate problem of the universe, and one relating quite directly to his present, otherworldly imprisonment—to in fact remedy the coming-into-being of evil itself.
But given the unpredictable, fateful nature of reality, instead of Ekron’s scheme working toward a direct transport of Lucious to the remote past, to the time of Lucifer’s pre-sin condition (to warn him so that he will never fall in the first place), Lucious’ spirit, his personality, is instead hurled ahead in time to hi-jack the body of an infant whose fate it was to die at this very young age, giving the impression to the contemporaries of the child’s mere close-call with death, translating literally to a new life for Lucious even in the sense that he starts off again without any recall of former existence.
This surface treatment, the suggestion of the principle about individual multiple existences, serves to underscore an instinctive sense of human primordiality. The intentionality of Martin’s tale in this regard is made apparent within the work, inclusive of direct statements. In fact, this duet, first of the literary art, serving as the abstract medium, and then second, when witnessed alongside the lead of such featured roles (as Lucious) who provide a more authoritative, eye-witness form of voice, effectively speaks to the thematic duality that characterizes not only this work of fiction, but that is also apparent throughout peoples’ lives, providing the indicated germ-seed of the work’s allegorical significance. When presented with the commonality of a forked path ahead, indicative of two potential versions of future life, the story satisfyingly dramatizes the universal situation; really, who has not pondered the fateful possibilities implicated in a decision to take one key life route over another? Through Lucious, Joseph Martin effectively highlights this potential for alternate destinies, culminating in the form of perceptive, susceptible readers being brought even to the point of shock. Is it not so, given that this theme is carried even to the point of the text’s treatment of the ultimate dichotomy, “‘pre-existent theology’…referring at once to the Creator’s state of absolute perfection, yet in full pre-creational foreknowledge regarding the conditions that were to arise that would cause evil to come into being, converging with the Creator’s act of going forward with the plan to create anyway—in a legitimate sense and effect, then, when properly interpreted, ‘evil also coming from good.’”
The literary individual who is not typically inclined toward the “fantasy/spiritual” genre may find a pleasing case for exception with regard to this work. This is true, despite the potential negative of the work that, at times, there may be a need to establish stronger transitions linking thematic concepts, although I concede on an artistic level that such textual moments actually may have been effectively intentional, suiting the artistic and therefore to a degree ambiguous range that is inherent to the book, including its incorporation of the sense of mystery. Joseph Martin presents a decidedly gothic undercurrent akin to classical and canonical roots that likewise do not eschew, but rather thread about such ultimate concerns of the human situation. I say that if indeed “There is nothing new under the sun,” then Joseph Martin has at least given the concept a good run for its money. Thus, the concept from which the plot emerges is, at a minimum, engaging, and at its highest moments, sublimity would not be an overstatement, making it a worthy read for even the high school level, and then everywhere beyond.
**** Don't forget to unplug the phone for this one!
***** A bookworm's bibliophilic dream!
During The Entrant’s best and refreshingly frequent moments, author Joseph Martin leaves the reader feeling as though there really is a mystical nature to the word’s power in the most possessive sense. From the onset of this quintessentially allegorical work, the reader is confronted with the inherently evocative possibilities of an eternal realm that is newly interpreted, accessible, and just as strangely believable—yikes! Although it is conceded in the introductory material that the story is merely entertaining narrative fiction, the reader soon-after gets a sense of presence about the whole, that the “it’s just a made up story” line is itself merely a form of disclaimer fiction.
Spellbinding it is to follow the testimony of first-century protagonist, Lucious (I’m thinking, “loo-shus”), down from a vacated tomb’s earthquake-caused access to a lower geologic plate where he discovers the technological remains of a pre-Adam civilization. Inadvertently activating one of the signal-producing items thereof, and then telepathically perceived by an immortal survivor of that epoch, Ekron then teleports Lucious to where he has been judgmentally confined for centuries within an alternate plane of existence, within a “chamber of timelessness” as termed by this prisoner Ekron. Although circumstantially inhibited personally, and yet retaining a substantial measure of once-commonplace (pre-Adamic) preternatural endowments, Ekron regards this Lucious-incident as a means to remedy the ultimate problem of the universe, and one relating quite directly to his present, otherworldly imprisonment—to in fact remedy the coming-into-being of evil itself.
But given the unpredictable, fateful nature of reality, instead of Ekron’s scheme working toward a direct transport of Lucious to the remote past, to the time of Lucifer’s pre-sin condition (to warn him so that he will never fall in the first place), Lucious’ spirit, his personality, is instead hurled ahead in time to hi-jack the body of an infant whose fate it was to die at this very young age, giving the impression to the contemporaries of the child’s mere close-call with death, translating literally to a new life for Lucious even in the sense that he starts off again without any recall of former existence.
This surface treatment, the suggestion of the principle about individual multiple existences, serves to underscore an instinctive sense of human primordiality. The intentionality of Martin’s tale in this regard is made apparent within the work, inclusive of direct statements. In fact, this duet, first of the literary art, serving as the abstract medium, and then second, when witnessed alongside the lead of such featured roles (as Lucious) who provide a more authoritative, eye-witness form of voice, effectively speaks to the thematic duality that characterizes not only this work of fiction, but that is also apparent throughout peoples’ lives, providing the indicated germ-seed of the work’s allegorical significance. When presented with the commonality of a forked path ahead, indicative of two potential versions of future life, the story satisfyingly dramatizes the universal situation; really, who has not pondered the fateful possibilities implicated in a decision to take one key life route over another? Through Lucious, Joseph Martin effectively highlights this potential for alternate destinies, culminating in the form of perceptive, susceptible readers being brought even to the point of shock. Is it not so, given that this theme is carried even to the point of the text’s treatment of the ultimate dichotomy, “‘pre-existent theology’…referring at once to the Creator’s state of absolute perfection, yet in full pre-creational foreknowledge regarding the conditions that were to arise that would cause evil to come into being, converging with the Creator’s act of going forward with the plan to create anyway—in a legitimate sense and effect, then, when properly interpreted, ‘evil also coming from good.’”
The literary individual who is not typically inclined toward the “fantasy/spiritual” genre may find a pleasing case for exception with regard to this work. This is true, despite the potential negative of the work that, at times, there may be a need to establish stronger transitions linking thematic concepts, although I concede on an artistic level that such textual moments actually may have been effectively intentional, suiting the artistic and therefore to a degree ambiguous range that is inherent to the book, including its incorporation of the sense of mystery. Joseph Martin presents a decidedly gothic undercurrent akin to classical and canonical roots that likewise do not eschew, but rather thread about such ultimate concerns of the human situation. I say that if indeed “There is nothing new under the sun,” then Joseph Martin has at least given the concept a good run for its money. Thus, the concept from which the plot emerges is, at a minimum, engaging, and at its highest moments, sublimity would not be an overstatement, making it a worthy read for even the high school level, and then everywhere beyond.
**** Don't forget to unplug the phone for this one!
***** A bookworm's bibliophilic dream!