As the moment of abjection highlights the fluid distinction between self and other, Last Days constantly tests claims by members of The Brotherhood of Mutilation that their amputations bind them. The unstable nature of the human condition, especially as it is evoked on almost every page by the disfigured body, calls to mind Julia Kristeva’s definition of the abject. In the act of amputation as a procession towards the divine, we become simultaneously less human (the loss of limb, our proximity to God) and more human (the innate condition of pain, the cycle of sin and purification, our awareness of our material condition). Characteristic of the paradoxes of faith-based logic, the arbitrary dictates of The Brotherhood allow Kline to pursue the criminal only because Kline is a mutilate, but forces him to lose (against his will) three toes in order to be allowed to interview a brother with significantly more amputations.

Still, the book targets institutionalized Judeo-Christianity in general. Those with biographical knowledge of Evenson (and perhaps those versed in Mormon symbolism/iconography) will intuit that allegories of religion in Last Days take particular aim at the Mormon Church.

The twisted logic of faith, in which the biblical concept of cutting off one’s own hand becomes the fundamental tenet of The Brotherhood of Mutilation, casts a cynical eye on religion. Much of its complexity stems from the texts and genres it engages with in conversation about the human condition. Though its simple language, rapid pacing, and action-packed plot make Last Days an incredibly quick read, the book is by no means simple. Last Days applies pressure to the definition of humanity in a gory universe where violence governs the all-too-human curiosity for knowledge. Or, as one brother quips, shouldn’t the count of amputations work in the negative, as minus-one rather than as plus-one? It is these “fallen” logics, irrational systems that demand either unwavering faith or a violent attempt at epistemological resolution, that Kline, the novellas’ protagonist detective, must navigate, presumably to solve a crime at the isolated compound of The Brotherhood of Mutilation. At the cauterized suture of absence and presence, logic fails: as the caption to a pinup magazine of amputated women perversely states, Less is More.

May–June 2009 Less is More Robert Glick Last Days Brian Evenson Underland Press 256 pages paper, $12.95 In Brian Evenson’s disturbing and absurd linked novellas Last Days, a one-eyed guard responds to a knock on the door with the query, “What is wanted?” Signaling both the desire for something and its absence, the word “wanted” maps the terrain of a book in which almost every character is a voluntary amputee. In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Last days brian evenson summary