By Graham Masterton
1988 Pinnacle Books
Paperback, 448 pages
Graham Masterton’s cannibal
classic has a lot of fans and a lot of detractors. I consider myself a fan,
though with some reservations. Masterton is, of course, an excellent writer and
storyteller and keeps the narrative flowing forward at a decent tempo. There
are portions of the book, however, that slow down a bit and feel like padding,
especially in the middle. Some pacing problems and repetition (and dozens of
annoying typos in the Pinnacle edition) get in the way of this being a
perfectly enjoyable experience. And I say that with the main character being kind
of a dickhead. He wasn’t a problem for me.
Charlie McLean (the dickhead) is
a traveling restaurant critic going through small town Connecticut with his estranged
son, 15 year old Martin, trying to spend some “get to know you” time together.
Charlie learns of a secret dining club called Le Reposoir and desperately wants
to get into it. All of his attempts are squashed and eventually, he gives up.
Until his son goes missing and he learns that Martin has joined a cult, the Célèstines
(at Le Reposoir), one that believes that the way to Jesus and spirituality is
self-cannibalism. The cult is well-protected legally, as the “victims” are
willing participants and there is little that Charlie can do. His attempts to
“rescue” Martin get him nothing but trouble. With Journalist/ instant love
interest Robyn in tow, he heads to New Orleans to the Célèstines headquarters
to try a different way to gain access to his son.
For me, the book got a little
overlong while still in Connecticut and as the story became a road trip, but once
they reached the Big Easy, things really started to pick up. Charlie’s effort
to join the cult by practicing their ways is an unforgettable scene that even
had me squirming and the sights and sounds of the New Orleans complex
are horrifying yet shown with a spirituality and calmness that makes it feel twice
as bad. You see, the Célèstines think that with Martin’s offering, they will
bring about the Second Coming and nothing will stop them from making this come
to pass, especially not Charlie’s harassment.
So we have a great story by an
excellent author but perhaps the scope is too big, dragging things down a bit.
There are also a lot of convenient characters in on the whole plot to
capture Martin that in retrospect were very much in the right place at the
right time. Still, my suspension of disbelief is very strong so I just went
with the flow. While the book could have lost 100 pages and should have had an
actual proof-reader, I still enjoyed this and will hold it in high regard. Bob
Larkin’s step-back cover art is a thing of rare beauty and that alone is worth
the high price tag that Feast often commands. That the story is good,
all quibbles aside, is icing on the cake.
In 1989, Sphere released the title as Ritual with a less exciting (but still cool) step-back cover.







