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This is the tenth out of the thirteen Dover Doomsday Classics I have read, with only three more
to go. On the whole, I have not been particularly impressed by them. There were a few I really liked and one, City of Endless Night, was awesome. A
couple I didn't like that much, but most were okay, but not great. This one, however, has got to be the dumbest one I've read so far. And if
you are not Christian, particularly Catholic, you may find it downright offensive. However, I have found interesting points in all of these books, in
fact, there are very few books I read that I don't find points of interest or enlightenment. I read voraciously, and I read a very widely varied
selection of books. My personal library is voluminous, so I don't choose books just to find ones that appeal to me. This particular book, first published in
1907, is actually quite prescient in many aspects of our current apocalyptic reality now unfolding. In fact, I found it particularly interesting that this
book coincidentally came up next in line of the four remaining Doomsday Classics I had left to read, because I had just published a Bible article
concerning religious extremism, and most of my regular articles from the past year have focused on the World Economic Forum and their agenda to turn us all
into soulless transhumans. You will find all my articles on the Articles Index found at the top of every page. My Bible articles index can be found on both the
right and left column of my Home Page, which is linked above. The particular Bible article I am referring to is
A Tale of Two (or More) Gods. You will find all of my Dover
Doomsday Classics reviews on the
Futuristic, Apocalyptic, Time Travel
Index Page. This book is also available as a free eBook at
Project Gutenberg,
and had I known that, I never would have bought it. I remember doing a search
on it, but for some reason it did not show up as a free eBook back then. Of the thirteen, I own only six in paper form.
Robert Hugh Benson was actually Monsignor Benson. His father was the Archbishop of Canterbury,
and Robert was ordained a priest in the Church of England by his father. But after his father's death, he began to question the doctrines of that
Church. In 1903 he was received into the Catholic Church, becoming a Catholic priest in 1904, which "caused a sensation," according to
Wikipedia. I would imagine . . . . At least he followed where his soul led him, and that is always the right choice.
I cannot imagine that this book would appeal to anyone who is not Christian, particularly a Roman
Catholic Christian, which was the largest denomination within the Christian Churches in
1900, and
still is. By far, which surprised me. Before I go on my little rant, let me state that not only was I Catholic until
well into my thirties, but, as a degreed professional musician, I was employed by the Church as a Music Director/Music Minister, a liturgical position, for
nine years, so I have a right to vent my anger because I suffered abuse. Of course, it is no secret that men, women, and children by the thousands have
been sexually abused by priests, for which they had no recourse to press charges because the Church Hierarchy, including the Pope, for way
too long, refused to acknowledge such heinous crimes. But what is less known is the abuse suffered by employees and parishioners, women, nuns—not
sexual but psychological humiliation. Those who fled became known as "recovering Catholics," and after a long while, "fully-recovered Catholics." And
to those who have pursued spiritual devotion outside Christianity, the known fact that the goings-on at the Vatican are nothing short of satanic, makes a book
like this seem, well, absurd. Add to that, this present Pope has spoken out publicly in favor of these toxic experimental Covid injections, guaranteed to kill. Gosh, is the
Pope part of the depopulation agenda? That's a change. Remember when health organizations went to Africa and distributed free condoms and attempted to educate
the people about responsible reproduction? Then the Catholics came in and told them birth control was a sin, so the condoms were discarded.
And oh, here's something else we must not forget. How many people did the Catholics kill because they were "heretics," or refused
to become Catholic, like in the
Inquisitions? This novel is about
religious persecution against the Catholics. Or is it, "what goes around, comes around?"
Written in 1907, it is set in the "future" about where we are now. A good part of the world's
population (the West and America) are Humanists—they do not believe in "god" or life after death. The third geographical division is the East, and Benson sort
of lumps them all together as "Pantheistic." Oh, sigh . . . . So, in other words, what he is saying is that the remaining Christians—the only ones who
have got it "right," are the Catholics.
I get very annoyed at those who think that anyone who does not follow their "Christian God," and
related dogma automatically are Materialists or Secular Humanists who do not believe in the afterlife, or souls or spirituality, which indicates immense
ignorance. I have devoted my life, for the past 42 years in spiritual pursuit. It was another of the many reasons I had to flee the Church, because having a
bunch of rules and regulations and dogma forced upon you is NOT conducive to spiritual awakening. Most of the people who have become leaders in the world
of personal spiritual ascension and enlightenment are not Christian, and in fact, often tend toward Eastern religions with a firm belief in
reincarnation and past lives, multidimensionality, and aliens, both benevolent and evil. There has been such an expansion of knowledge concerning our true
state of being, and someone like myself who spends such a great amount of time and effort in my personal spiritual pursuits, finds those who adhere to
religious myths absurd. And those who think there is nothing but the material world and technology have truly become a current threat to global populations.
I has always been my attitude to live and let live, and people can believe whatever they want as long as it does no harm, and does not infringe on the
rights of others to believe what they want. But that is certainly not happening now.
So I find a book like this lacking greatly in spiritual maturity. Naïve and childish. There was no character I
liked and I did not care about any of them because I found the beliefs of both sides to be ridiculous and extreme. That does not set a precedent for enlightening reading.
Benson's Preface is a simple statement:
I am perfectly aware that this is a terribly sensational book, and open to innumerable criticisms on that account, as well as on many others. But I did not know how else to express the principles I desired (and which I passionately believe to be true) except by producing their lines to a sensational point. I have tried, however, not to scream unduly loud, and to retain, so far as possible, reverence and consideration for the opinions of other people. Whether I have succeeded in that attempt is quite another matter.
However, having said all that, I actually did find a great deal here that was chillingly
accurate, and even more creepy is that the end of the world takes place, em, just about now. IF you can get beyond getting Catholicism stuffed down
your throat, and, truly, much of this book reads like a doctrine of faith. Well. The man was a Monsignor, and the Catholic Church was much more
dictatorial back then, until they realized their people were leaving in droves, so they modernized a bit after the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965).
But here in 2022, it doesn't matter if you are a devoted Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Pagan, Muslim,
or any other religious philosophy that embraces the idea of the soul, the afterlife, and some source of divinity, whether one calls it "God" or simply
accepts that there are sources of sacred energy which we can all access, if we wish to rise to our highest spiritual level—those of us who believe that there
is so much more beyond this earthly presence have GOT to realize we are
deep in a spiritual war at the moment, and evil has truly descended upon us. Well, that is the underlying theme of the book, and on that account, I truly
agree with the Monsignor.
Having said all that, I will provide a synopsis of the story. And not a brief one either! I took lots of
notes and there are lots of arrows in my margins to include quotes. The novel is divided into three Books: I: The Advent; II: The Encounter; and III: The
Victory, plus a short Prologue that really isn't necessary to the rest of the story except to introduce Father Percy Franklin, and Father Francis, and to
hear a short history of how the world got into the mess it is in. And where it is heading. Each Book is divided into chapters which are divided into sections,
which makes for nice reading if you are like me and read between other activities. The Encounter is by far the longest. The story is set in London,
Rome and Nazareth. One other thing I thought was odd was that rather than using the word spiritual to refer to the non-physical aspect of religion, Benson used
the word "supernatural," which, in this time period implies ghosts or something paranormal.
Oh, yes, here's another point I must make which sometimes makes futuristic books a bit silly. If one is
going to write about the future one must be outrageous in their imagination of technological advancements, and also realize that, especially writing in the
near future, that people will still be alive to read it. Now, if one writes a book set a hundred years from now, well, no one will still be alive on
earth then to read it, most likely. We might not make it to 2023. But back then, Benson really did not think about how dated his book would sound. Like,
the only woman character of any importance was named Mabel. THAT is really a dated name. If he couldn't imagine Hailey or Kaitlin, he should have made a name
up. Plus the style of speech he used was definitely not of this century. And the technology. They flew in machines called "volors" that could have been a sort of
dirigible, and could travel 150 mph. Wow, eh? And the telegraph was their form of long-distance communication. And they
still used typewriters. But this isn't unique to Benson. How could any writer imagine the internet and the explosion of technology we have experienced? It is
those sci-fi writers whose books are most outlandish that usually get it right.
There are really only four main characters in the story, and lots of lesser ones. Oliver Brand is in
the Government, representing Croydon. He is in his thirties. His wife Mabel is nineteen. His elderly mother lives with them. They have a nice house, and
Oliver loves to look out and see the miles of rooftops. Everything is clean and quiet. And the streets are lined with rubber so that one does not even hear
footsteps. Oliver loves every hint of human life—all busy sights and sounds—and was listening now, smiling faintly to himself as he stared out into
the clear air. The other two are the priest, Father Franklin, and Julian Felsenburgh.
The people are basically happy and at peace, except for the looming threat of invasion from the East,
which is more powerful than the West and America together. Mr. Phillips, Oliver's secretary, delivers the newspapers. One name seems to keep coming up. It is
Julian Felsenburgh, an American one-time Senator, who is fluent in numerous languages, and gifted in, em, negotiations. No one
really knows anything about him, but he apparently has taken over, single-handedly, to bring about World Peace. We shall see how that all works
out. If the East isn't stopped, it will be Armageddon. If the East is stopped, they will not be a threat again. But to Oliver, it is the threat of
having to return to religion that worries him the most.
As he looked from his window and saw that vast limit of London laid peaceably before him, as his imagination ran out over Europe and saw everywhere that steady triumph of common sense and fact over the wild fairy-stories of Christianity, it seemed intolerable that there should be even a possibility that all this should be swept back again into the barbarous turmoil of sects and dogmas; for no less than this would be the result if the East laid hands on Europe. Even Catholicism would revive, he told himself, that strange faith that had blazed so often as persecution had been dashed to quench it; and, of all forms of faith, to Oliver's mind Catholicism was the most grotesque and enslaving. And the prospect of all this honestly troubled him, far more than the thought of the physical catastrophe and bloodshed that would fall on Europe with the advent of the East.
And to add to his worries, Oliver believes his elderly mother, who was formerly Catholic, may be reverting back to her old beliefs.
Christianity was both wild and dull, he told himself, wild because of its obvious grotesqueness and impossibility, and dull because it was so utterly apart from the exhilarating stream of human life; it crept dustily about still, he knew, in little dark churches here and there; it screamed with hysterical sentimentality in Westminster Cathedral which he had once entered and looked upon with a kind of disgusted fury; it gabbled strange, false words to the incompetent and the old and the half-witted. But it would be too dreadful if his own mother ever looked upon it again with favour.
Oliver's view of London is what comforts him.
He stood a moment or two at the door after his wife had gone, drinking in reassurance from that glorious vision of solid sense that spread itself before his eyes: the endless house-roofs; the high glass vaults of the public baths and gymnasiums; the pinnacled schools where Citizenship was taught each morning; the spider-like cranes and scaffoldings that rose here and there; and even the few pricking spires did not disconcert him. There it stretched away into the grey haze of London, really beautiful, this vast hive of men and women who had learned at least the primary lesson of the gospel that there was no God but man, no priest but the politician, no prophet but the schoolmaster.
Mabel goes to catch a train to Brighton to visit her aunt, and something terrible happens. As she steps off the platform, a Government volor crashes to the ground.
A great shadow whirled across the sunlight at her feet, a sound of rending tore the air, and a noise like a giant's sigh; and, as she stopped bewildered, with a noise like ten thousand smashed kettles, a huge thing crashed on the rubber pavement before her, where it lay, filling half the square, writhing long wings on its upper side that beat and whirled like the flappers of some ghastly extinct monster, pouring out human screams, and beginning almost instantly to crawl with broken life.
She knew the ministers of euthanasia were on their way, but before that, a man pushes through. He is a
priest—Father Franklin, in fact. That is the first but not the last encounter Mabel will have with him, and also the first time she has seen people die.
Blood is splashed on her shoe, and when she returns home she is now has questions, like why did the priest show up just then, and what do you say to
one who is dying? She saw the dying man's eyes—a look of relief that a priest was there.
Father Franklin has great responsibilities. One is that he must write a daily correspondence to the
Cardinal Protector in Rome who is assigned to England. He collects any information that may have an impact on the Church, which is just about
everything at this point. There has been an exodus of both priests and the public from the Church because they no longer believe. Father Francis is one of
them, and though Percy expected it, their parting is not pleasant. He goes to the Church to pray and meditate, when he is stopped by an old lady who asks him
a few questions, then mentions that he must have been the priest at the accident her daughter-in-law witnessed. By the way, though Percy is still quite
young, his hair is white—an identifying feature that becomes more important as the story unfolds. Of course, the woman is Oliver's mother.
That evening the priests discuss Freemasonry. Catholics were forbidden to join any secret societies, and
it seems that the Freemasons have a huge membership, which now included women! It also appears that this Felsenburgh is a Freemason. There was a certain
Dominican who had been a Mason, and had evidence they were behind the movement against religion.
But he had died in his bed, and the public had been impressed by that fact. Then came the splendid donations in France and Italy—to hospitals, orphanages, and the like; and once more suspicion began to disappear. After all, it seemed—and continued to seem—for seventy years and more that Masonry was nothing more than a vast philanthropical society. Now once more men had their doubts.
HA! Philanthropy is a great way to hide evil. Just ask Bill Gates. And as for Felsenburgh, Percy had
bought three photos of him, supposedly, but they were all very different. Even though everyone knew his name, no one knew what he looked like, at least in
England. But as it later turns out, he looks exactly like Percy! Yes, of course that is symbolic. Though the word is never mentioned in the novel, the blurb on
the back cover calls Felsenburgh the Antichrist, so it would be fitting that he would be the image of Percy, but the spiritual opposite. What is even more
perplexing is that he has none of the skeletons hidden in the closet as do most public people.
Felsenburgh, it seemed, had employed none of those methods common in modern politics. He controlled no newspapers, vituperated nobody, championed nobody: he had no picked underlings; he used no bribes; there were no monstrous crimes alleged against him. It seemed rather as if his originality lay in his clean hands and his stainless past—that, and his magnetic character. He was the kind of figure that belonged rather to the age of chivalry: a pure, clean, compelling personality, like a radiant child. He had taken people by surprise, then, rising out of the heaving dun-coloured waters of American socialism like a vision—from those waters so fiercely restrained from breaking into storm over since the extraordinary social revolution under Mr. Hearst's disciples, a century ago.
War is still a threat, so the Powers are meeting in Paris. It is assumed now that Felsenburgh has everything under his control. Therefore, Oliver has to spend three days away, and asked Mabel to observe his mother because he is very worried that she is slipping back to Catholicism. But after Oliver left, she fell very ill. Mabel loves her, and it is painful to watch her coming "extinction."
She was sincerely fond of the old lady, and had always found her presence in the house a quiet sort of delight. The effect of her upon the mind was as that of an easy-chair upon the body. The old lady was so tranquil and human, so absorbed in small external matters, so reminiscent now and then of the days of her youth, so utterly without resentment or peevishness. It seemed curiously pathetic to the girl to watch that quiet old spirit approach its extinction, or rather, as Mabel believed, its loss of personality in the reabsorption into the Spirit of Life which informed the world. She found less difficulty in contemplating the end of a vigorous soul, for in that case she imagined a kind of energetic rush of force back into the origin of things; but in this peaceful old lady there was so little energy; her whole point, so to speak, lay in the delicate little fabric of personality, built out of fragile things into an entity far more significant than the sum of its component parts: the death of a flower, reflected Mabel, is sadder than the death of a lion; the breaking of a piece of china more irreparable than the ruin of a palace.
The doctor told Mabel she could die at any time or live ten more years. He did not think her condition
was serious enough to contact Oliver. Mabel has heard nothing of the Paris talks, nor has she heard from her husband. He does not arrive home as planned,
and she finally gets a call (yes they do have phones). It is Oliver, elated because a treaty has been signed by all Powers for Peace and Universal
Brotherhood. The big announcement will be at "Paul's House," which was St. Paul's Cathedral, taken over for secular use by the Government, as had most
other remaining churches. He requests Mabel be there. She tells him his mother is ill, but not dying, and he still wants her to be with him this night.
But old Mrs. Brand has other ideas when she is alone. She sends Phillips to fetch the priest, Father
Franklin. And so he does. Percy is shocked when he finds out who has asked for him, and even wonders if it is a trap. He has another priest hear his confession,
just in case. He gets to the train station and gets into the car, but as it begins to move under the tunnel, something happens. He hears shouting in the
distance, then suddenly the car begins to back up to the platform. He opens the door when it stops.
From right to left of the huge interior, across the platforms, swelling every instant, surged an enormous swaying, roaring crowd. The flight of steps, twenty yards broad, used only in cases of emergency, resembled a gigantic black cataract nearly two hundred feet in height. Each car as it drew up discharged more and more men and women, who ran like ants towards the assembly of their fellows. The noise was indescribable, the shouting of men, the screaming of women, the clang and hoot of the huge machines, and three or four times the brazen cry of a trumpet, as an emergency door was flung open overhead, and a small swirl of crowd poured through it towards the streets beyond. But after one look Percy looked no more at the people; for there, high up beneath the clock, on the Government signal board, flared out monstrous letters of fire, telling in Esperanto and English, the message for which England had grown sick. He read it a dozen times before he moved, staring, as at a supernatural sight which might denote the triumph of either heaven or hell.
EASTERN CONVENTION DISPERSED.
PEACE, NOT WAR.
UNIVERSAL BROTHERHOOD ESTABLISHED.
FELSENBURGH IN LONDON TO-NIGHT.
When he finally is able to reach Mrs. Brand, it is two hours later than scheduled. He knows at once that her request is genuine. She wants him to hear her confession. He worries that Oliver and Mabel will return, but she assures him they are not due home yet. She tries to tell him that she has had nightmares about Felsenburgh—that he is an evil man, but Percy thinks it is just the rambling of an elderly lady. However, Oliver and Mabel return early, and had not Mabel taken control of the situation, remaining very calm, civil and polite, violence might have occurred. And so Percy leaves. Mrs. Brand wants him to return for Holy Communion. Oliver is so impressed with Mabel's handling of the situation, he leaves the decisions up to her. And here is where Book II: The Encounter begins. And it is also where the evil sets in, way too similar to the blind obedience of the majority of the population today, such as those who willingly submitted to these toxic vaccines, and even worse, the physicians that are administering them and the people in the media that are covering up all the criminal insanity being carried out by those who have made themselves "gods." Here, in the novel it is even more blatant. He, Him, etc. is always capitalized as many writers do when speaking of "God." Here are some quotes that illustrate it has all gone too far, and that it was Felsenburgh's plan in the first place. Here is part of a conversation between husband and wife.
Her face was transfiguredas she spoke. It was as of one who saw a Divine Vision. She spoke very quietly, without excitement or hysteria.
Oliver stared at her a moment; then he bent forward and kissed her gently.
"Yes, my darling; it is true. But I want to hear it again and again. Tell me again what you saw."
"I saw the Son of Man," she said. "Oh! there is no other phrase. The Saviour of the world, as that paper says. I knew Him in my heart as soon as I saw Him—as we all did—as soon as He stood there holding the rail. It was like a glory round his head. I understand it all now. It was He for whom we have waited so long; and He has come, bringing Peace and Goodwill in His hands. When He spoke, I knew it again. His voice was as—as the sound of the sea—as simple as that—as—as lamentable—as strong as that.—Did you not hear it?"
Oliver bowed his head.
"I can trust Him for all the rest," went on the girl softly. "I do not know where He is, nor when He will come back, nor what He will do. I suppose there is a great deal for Him to do, before He is fully known—laws, reforms—that will be your business, my dear. And the rest of us must wait, and love, and be content."
Oliver will spend the night at Whitehall because they will be working all night. Meanwhile, Mabel
does her best to persuade Mrs. Brand that Christianity is nonsense, and tries to explain that from now on there will be no more war, and all people will live
in peace, which is something religions could never accomplish.
Well, I have to agree with that. Religion has been one of the major causes of war throughout history,
has it not? I personally would love to live in a world without religion, but too many people think that means a secular world, a materialistic world. It is
even stated in this novel that humans need to worship. Baloney. Unfortunately most people are too lazy to do their own spiritual work, so it is much easier
to let religion do it for them. And that's why we are in such a catastrophic place right now. Everyone is personally responsible for their own spiritual
growth and awakening, and building their own sense of moral integrity. Religion has certainly not accomplished that. And this Secular Humanism certainly does
not either, as we find out soon enough. The people have replaced a spiritual "god" with a secular "god," and give themselves up to him rather than exploring their
own minds and hearts and souls to learn what it means to be a good person.
Mrs. Brand refuses to listen to Mabel, as she grows weaker and sicker. She begs Mabel to call the
priest, but she refuses. Then Mrs. Brand dies.
I will only mention a few other points. Shortly after the confrontation at the Brand's house, Percy is
ordered to come to Rome. And there he will stay. He is to meet with the Pope to enlighten him on four questions: What has happened? What is happening? What
will happen? And What needs to happen? Percy is brutally honest and the Pope is pleased. Rome and its suburbs are a haven for Catholic refugees, but only a
small percentage may live inside the city limits if they fulfill certain criteria. Rome has been kept "unmodernized," and Percy finds his mind and soul
once again at peace. Yes, I do agree with that. I am all for "unmodernization." He is given his list of duties, mostly to assist the Cardinal Protector and to
go through all the correspondence from England then drawing up a report. He also has lots of time to relax.
One of the points I found really obnoxious was that the Catholics were not pleased with an end to all
wars because it didn't happen "the way God planned it," in other words, it
didn't happen their way. Ok, so what did happen turned out to be horrendous because this Felsenburgh god was really more like a Hitler (who had not come
along yet when this book was written). His ideal was to get rid of all those who did not agree with him, another very familiar aspect of this novel. BUT, I
have to wonder. There are those of us here now on the planet who truly do imagine a world of peace and harmony with all life, who are not Christian, and
many of us know we have Alien allies who want to work with us on the same goals. Do we think the Christians, especially those who are obsessed with rules
and dogma and take the Bible word for word literally, will welcome a world of peace and harmony that is not created in their ideal? I think not, and I find
it distressing. Reading this novel in many ways helped me to organize my thoughts, as we are reaching a critical point here on Planet Earth.
"We are not unmindful of the blessings of peace and unity, nor do We forget that the appearance of these things has been the fruit of much that we have condemned. It is this appearance of peace that has deceived many, causing them to doubt the promise of the Prince of Peace that it is through Him alone that we have access to the Father. That true peace, passing understanding, concerns not only the relations of men between themselves, but, supremely, the relations of men with their Maker; and it is in this necessary point that the efforts of the world are found wanting. It is not indeed to be wondered at that in a world which has rejected God this necessary matter should be forgotten. Men have thought—led astray by seducers—that the unity of nations was the greatest prize of this life, forgetting the words of our Saviour, Who said that He came to bring not peace but a sword, and that it is through many tribulations that we enter God's Kingdom. First, then, there should be established the peace of man with God, and after that the unity of man with man will follow. Seek ye first, said Jesus Christ, the kingdom of God—and then all these things shall be added unto you."
A number of Western countries (Europe) offer high positions to Felsenburgh, and he turns them all down. But when he is offered the position of President of Europe, he accepts. It is one basically of dictatorship, and the people are thrilled. Brainwashed, rather. Even Percy had been disturbingly affected by Felsenburgh.
For himself, he scarcely knew if he believed what he professed. His emotions seemed to have been finally extinguished in the vision of the white car and the silence of the crowd that evening three weeks before. It had been so horribly real and positive; the delicate aspirations and hopes of the soul appeared so shadowy when compared with that burning, heart-shaking passion of the people. He had never seen anything like it; no congregation under the spell of the most kindling preacher alive had ever responded with one-tenth of the fervour with which that irreligious crowd, standing in the cold dawn of the London streets, had greeted the coming of their saviour. And as for the man himself—Percy could not analyse what it was that possessed him as he had stared, muttering the name of Jesus, on that quiet figure in black with features and hair so like his own. He only knew that a hand had gripped his heart—a hand warm, not cold—and had quenched, it seemed, all sense of religious conviction. It had only been with an effort that sickened him to remember, that he had refrained from that interior act of capitulation that is so familiar to all who have cultivated an inner life and understand what failure means. There had been one citadel that had not flung wide its gates—all else had yielded. His emotions had been stormed, his intellect silenced, his memory of grace obscured, a spiritual nausea had sickened his soul, yet the secret fortress of the will had, in an agony, held fast the doors and refused to cry out and call Felsenburgh king.
Dane always says that our wills are the one thing nobody can take from us. Yes!!
But Percy understands the fakery surrounding Felsenburgh, and knows it is only a matter of time
before there is no longer peace. And what is even more disconcerting is that Felsenburgh disappears for quite a while. Nobody, still, really knows a thing about
him. Then the persecutions against the Catholics begin in earnest, and the Catholics plan their own violence, and it is here I will stop, because this
leads to the final book, Victory. The rest of this paragraph is a spoiler, so if you don't want to know the ending, skip to the next paragraph. Since this
novel is apocalyptic, it obviously must end with the apocalypse. However, I had to look it up on
Wikipedia because I had no idea what happened at the end because
it is in Latin. And rather abstract. Oh, my. Guess I need to brush up on that, but, yeah, the world ends, another chilling similarity to our
upcoming fate. And here's another spoiler. Mabel commits suicide through a voluntary euthanasia clinic. Remember the movie Soylent Green? She is
unable to reconcile herself to the fact that people are being slaughtered because they have different beliefs, and that her husband signed the
declaration. Well, good for you Mabel. And as she is preparing for the gas mask, she prays to God.
And here are a few other points leading up to it, that also were disturbing in their prescience. One was
that there was something very strange going on in the sky. The temperatures became anomalously hot, and it seemed as if dark clouds were building for a
storm, but there was no storm. And even more chilling was the fact that not everybody could see it, even when it was pointed out. But the part that
I personally could really relate to was that certain people began to feel a sense of "unreality." A disconnection to the physical world. Oh, my, again.
Yes, I definitely know that feeling.
But perhaps the greatest message to us here in 2022, is to beware of "Saviors." When people desperately
want something to happen, for most, it is easy to cling to people who are smooth talkers. Like Trump. And lots more, who are revered by much of the
public when they should be in prison.
So there it is. Make your own choice as to whether you want to read it. It is annoying, yet for those of
us actively involved in this impending apocalypse here in 2022, there is much food for thought in this novel.
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