Boston author Eric LaRocca's latest novel delves into the horror of grief

 The Controversial History of Transgressive Fiction

Transgressive fiction has a rich and controversial history in writing, from the old-fashioned obscenities of Comte de Lautréamont and the Marquis de Sade to the gruesome fantasies of additional cutting-edge authors, such as J. G. Ballard, Bret Easton Ellis, and even Stephen Ruler. Perverse sexuality, undeterred viciousness, and modified moralities are the hallmarks of the genre, rehearsed by lecherous protagonists who revel in their remorselessness and challenge readers to consider whether the extravagance they feel while perusing such horrors hints at something hazier inside themselves. The purpose is to shock; the expectation — when there is some aim beyond simple gratuitousness — is that by investigating the extremities of involvement, some deeper truth may be uncovered or some ethical hypocrisy might be shattered.

Eric LaRocca: A Rising Star in Horror Fiction

Boston author Eric LaRocca has been praised as a brilliant light in horror fiction, especially its "splatterpunk" subgenre, set apart by its emphasis on carnage and savagery. In 2023, Esquire magazine named them as one of the writers at the front of the "following brilliant period of horror fiction," referring to their mix of eccentric themes, online tropes, and unwavering extremities.

Exploring Grief and Nihilism in At Dull, I Become Loathsome

LaRocca’s latest book, At Dull, I Become Loathsome, fits squarely within that description, recounting the story of Ashley Lutin, a man whose grief over the loss of his significant other and son, and struggle with tolerating his own sexuality, have sent him into a profound, nihilistic depression. He's turned into a sort of immersion therapist for immiserated individuals, covering them alive for 30 minutes at a time to furnish them with a new perspective on life. However, when a potential client captures his attention with a gruesome story, something dark is stirred in Ashley, and he begins down a path that threatens to lead him somewhere from which there's no approaching back.

A Novel in Three Stories: LaRocca’s Narrative Structure

Altogether, At Dull, I Become Loathsome feels more like three short stories in a soiled raincoat than a legitimate novel. While Ashley's story provides a pinch of structure, it's interrupted by two expanded digressions. The first, which we can call Keane's story, is a tale of illegal sex and murder, told to Ashley through an internet-based chat by his mysterious potential client. The second, which Ashley reads on a blog, is titled "The Experience of Victor and Tandy" and recounts a man’s paraphilic fetish for his partner’s disease.

The Online Digressions: From Chat Rooms to Blogs

These stories, which are only unexpectedly connected with Ashley's descent into darkness, take up a huge portion of this generally slim volume. Moreover, these stories are perhaps excessively consistent with their supposed media — they truly read like the kind of thing someone would DM you or that you would peruse on an irregular person's blog — wandering and unpleasant, needing a bit more thought and editing. LaRocca presents Keane’s story in a discussion-channel format, without space and with each new sentence prepended by the client’s username, "<masterjinx76>." Points for verisimilitude, I suppose, but difficult to slog through as a reader.

Ashley Lutin: A Protagonist Who Struggles with His Own Darkness

Ashley is a curious character. The book's title is a sort of mantra for him, something he repeats while pondering the abased state he finds himself in. As a reader, however, it becomes clear that he’s especially loathsome at night, or any less so during the day. This is in line with Ashley’s overall perspective — he's convinced that the world sees him as a monster, though you get the feeling that it's mostly a figment of his imagination, a symptom of his own self-despising (and, possibly, his narcissism).

The Disconnect Between Transgression and Meaning in LaRocca’s Novel

The net effect of this, however, is that he comes off somewhat goofy. It doesn’t help that his screen name is "<sad_boy>." "I’m sure that some of my clients expect me to act a certain way," he muses, "given the outlandishness of my appearance — the huge, botoxed lips, my brow with its silver horn implants, my gem-enhanced ears, twisted and reshaped to resemble the ears of a mythical person." A middle-aged man, he stalks around his small, Connecticut town agonizing like a teen who just discovered Hotly Debated Issues and Nine Inch Nails.

Aesthetic Choices or Excessive Shock Value? Analyzing LaRocca’s Approach to Horror

Apparently, LaRocca wants us to see Ashley as a smart, learned, philosophical person, yet the dense, exhausted manner in which he speaks makes it seem like the only book he's ever read is a thesaurus. If we were seeing him as an outsider looking in, there may be an air of mystery and intrigue surrounding his dark dealings. However, in the first person, with full access to his thoughts and motivations, Ashley is mostly just bothersome. "I consider the blood they found," he says. "I envision it pulsing underneath me like a delicate current, stealing me away toward a godless limitlessness where starlight is eaten by the fanged monstrosities we work inside our minds."

Final Thoughts: The Failure to Elevate Transgressive Fiction to New Depths

For all of the book's pretensions to transgression — and it is loaded with a lot of gross, violent, and sexually explicit scenes — At Dull, I Become Loathsome never really reads like much more than standard erotica, something you might’ve seen 10 years ago on someone’s LiveJournal or Tumblr page. While LaRocca is aware of the jargon of transgression, they seem not to grasp its syntax, failing to use their grotesqueries to something significant or rational. What’s left is a story about grief and loss that seems to misunderstand the actual concept of those things, loaded with horrific symbolism that I’d hesitate to call gratuitous, simply because that could suggest there’s something momentous about it.