pariah press sadias satyr
Sadia's Satyr
by Brooke McClennan
This story takes us on an eccentric journey through the heres and theres of reality, imagination, and reincarnated demons. Sadia, a desperate young woman edged into therapy by a well-meaning � yet overbearing � mother, finds herself increasingly drawn into the perverse universe of a prominent psychologist and hypnotist Dr. Baklava.
As the sessions continue, however, Sadia begins to speculate on the nature of Baklava�s powers, as well as his obsessions and the interesting political connections he has in both Winnipeg and Washington. Sadia is soon able to draw conclusions about Baklava�s sinister and supernatural past: is he all that he admits, or perhaps the second coming of the infamous Rasputin?
Funny, bitingly sarcastic, and mysterious, Sadia�s Satyr is McClennan�s first novel. A jewel among a cast of talented new fiction writers in Canada, Brooke McClennan is sure to shine for a long time to come.
"Another excellent new author coming out of Winnipeg's Pariah Press... that McClennan should be a champion of new fiction in Canada wouldn't surprise me." (Ben Redford, Victoria Metro News)
"Powerfully funny in the dryest and smartest way, McClennan knows how to drive her new prose like the old pros. Vonnegut would be proud of this Canadian prodigy." (Jacob Silverberg, Boston Sunday Review)
"Where do delusion and conviction cross paths? This story keeps us on that delicate edge from cover to cover, balanced by humour, suspense, and a welcome dose of the absurd." (Helene Arsenault, The Brunswickian)
Excerpt from Sadia's Satyr
"Baklava was old. He smelled old. He looked old, he dressed old, he sounded infinitely old. Sadia glanced down at his shoes, perhaps the only new thing about him, shiny auburn leather, heavy shoes but terribly delicate. She looked back up into his eyes -- how could someone so undeniably ancient seem so ready to pounce? He had a life in him that Sadia, despite herself, was impressed by. She was angry at herself -- he oozed 'impression', and it was clear that anyone left unimpressed would have entirely defeated him. So badly she wanted to defeat him, though why, she asked herself? 'We've only just met.' He inhlaed deeply, and she startled. 'Oh!', the doctor smiled, 'You seem nervous -- I hope your session with Dr. Epstein hasn't left you even more wound-up than you were when you came in.'
'Dr. Epstein? How did you know that I...'
'Oh now, he hasn't told me a thing, trust me. Whether it's your mother or your father who you hate, it's all a secret to me. However, you can't realistically expect me not to know that you're his patient? What kind of beautiful girl expects that eyes don't trail her steps?'
A blast of cold sweat lifted off her face, and Sadia suddenly felt ill. Not hungry anymore, but full of something dizzy and sickening, and she stepped back into the elevator. 'I'm sorry, I don't think I ... I have to go. Now.' She jabbed at the button for the lobby, but the doors wouldn't close. Baklava just stoofd in the hallway, old, smelling of it, staring her down with a smile and sharp eyes."
273 pp, 140 x 215 mm, softcover (fiction)
$16.96 (Can), $12.50 (US)
0-90210-72-5