In PrimoDeus, author John Lachance ambitiously tackles weighty themes of religion, trauma, and the thin line between reality and madness. Through the troubled life of defrocked priest Beaulyn deFaux, readers witness the formation of a tortured man haunted by his past.

The novel utilizes an unconventional structure, dividing itself into “Acts” and “Interludes” rather than traditional chapters. Literary techniques like fluctuating fonts and incorporations of verse create visual interest while highlighting the fluctuations of sanity within Beaulyn’s mind. Frequently shifting between past and present, the storyline can sometimes baffle. However, cryptic writing lends itself well to the spiritual mysticism pervading the pages. Small crumbs of information propel readers to piece together the tragedy of Beaulyn’s origin story across time.

When readers first encounter Beaulyn in adulthood, he is beleaguered by madness and addiction, frantically seeking oblivion at the bottom of a bottle. The source of his anguish begins to reveal itself through episodic flashbacks to childhood. After being abandoned by his mother, Beaulyn comes into the care of nurturing babysitter Claire Rousseau. But it soon becomes clear that a darkness lurks within this small child. During a chilling assessment by church elders, Beaulyn’s penetrating stare both disturbs and compels. Lachance’s rich character development uncovers the elders’ buried traumas, laying bare the pain of stifled sexuality, abuse, and violence that has marred their womanhood. Their visit with young Beaulyn grows increasingly unhinged and surreal as past wounds metastasize into delusion. Lachance’s nuanced exploration of complex female characters adds depth and surprises.

Back in the present day of the novel, Beaulyn continues his descent into depravity, wallowing in filth and alcoholism. Azra, his menacing “personal demon” alternately appears as both guide and tormentor on his journey toward oblivion and redemption. Though Azra’s shape-shifting role remains vague at times, rich biblical and mythological allusions hint that Lachance does not intend the demon to be taken at face-value. Fellow inmates and exorcists! Conjured or divine? Readers must discern for themselves.

Among epiphanies, seizures, bouts of madness and withdrawal, Beaulyn’s scattered memories combine to reveal the agonizing root of his angst. As Lachance skillfully peels back layers over time, small heartbreaking details expose the true horror resting at Beaulyn’s core. Readers bear witness to a shattering scene of abuse and violation inflicted when Beaulyn is just a young boy. Time shifts propel him into manhood, still trailed by trauma. The raw revealing of brutal childhood origins forges new empathy and understanding of Beaulyn’s shattered existence.

Despite its more disturbing sequences, PrimoDeus does have moments of catharsis and hope. Beaulyn finds hope in a fellow fallen woman, Brigitte, who has devoted herself as disciple and guardian on his journey. Even in the depths of their hunger and deprivation, her steadfast faith elicits spiritual transformations in them both. Her unwavering compassion provides respite from Beaulyn’s usual loneliness and despair. Their shared devotion and religious fervor occasionally wanders close to madness… or is it revelation? Lachance leaves the verdict to readers.

Skillfully utilizing literary devices and religious iconography, Lachance weaves a sorrowful tale depicting a sensitive soul broken by cruelty. Thematically dark yet vaguely redemptive, PrimoDeus will engage readers intrigued by examinations of trauma’s power to shatter minds, and the endurance of the human spirit.