Warhammer 40,000: The Horus Heresy: The Damnation of Pythos: Thinning the Veil by David Annandale

So . . . speaking of Warlord: The Fury of the God-Machine by one David Annandale . . . I found that the Louisville Free Public Library had several books by this Annandale fellow, a couple of which were actually on the shelves of my current Branch of Choice. So I picked them up. The first was an anthology in which Mr. Anandale had one story: Treacheries of the Space Marines being the title of the tome, and "The Carrion Anthem" the title of the story. And I must say that I was impressed with this story. For one thing, it centered around music. Believe it or not. Quite a departure from the other Warhammer stuff I've read. For another thing, it was written with intelligence and verve . . . and Mr. Annandale had quite an impressive vocabulary to boot. Definitely a win, and it propelled me into the second book I'd picked up, a Horus Heresy novel entitled The Damnation of Pythos: Thinning the Veil. Which you've got to admit is a pretty damned good title / subtitle combination. And I found it pretty engrossing right from the get go. There was some of the same old same old Warhammer stuff: land on a planet, fight through horrible creatures until your ranks are thin and your soldiers are drenched in gore, then get on with the story. (Which is why I pooped out on the Horus Heresy series when I first tried to take it on from the first novel on.) But there was other stuff, too, and the other stuff was pretty interesting. Although one thing of note: music plays an integral part of the story. Which still works, and is okay, I guess. "Carrion" was published in June 2012 and Pythos  was published in October 2014, so the fact that I read them back to back and they both had music as a central plot device might just be coincidence. For all I know, these are the only two music-centric stories David Annandale ever wrote, right? So it's commentworthy, but perhaps not noteworthy. Time will tell.

Meanwhile . . . these are a few of my favorite things from The Damnation of Mythos:

"There are no limits . . . . Live the truth of the senses. Their reach must be infinite. Extend your own grasp . . . . Plunge it deep into the perverse. All sensation is the fuel of perfection. The more extreme the sensation, the closer we come to perfection. The more debased the act, the greater the sensation. What is the command? That everything is permitted? No! Everything is compulsory! . . . What the pallid would forbid, we must embrace to the end. . . . The only good is excess! The only true knowledge lies in sensation!"

That, to me, pretty much defines evil. The lack of the will to restrain one's self. Seems to me that good is always about constraint. So this little diatribe from The Dark Side works for me. Strange that I just heard a bit from Aleister Crowley on this same subject: that famous bit about "Nothing is true, everything is permitted." And "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law." The same shit that slides out of Nietzsche's ass. I think that people who embrace this kind of philosophy are basically attempting to justify their own depravity . . . or, at least, their own inability to life a life that doesn't depend upon the exploitation of others.

"Perhaps doubt was inherent to the flesh itself."

Yeah. I think there's a lot to that, too. Certitude as the enemy to that which is human? I have to say that that seems mostly true to me. Certitude leads to shutting off communication with those who don't share your beliefs, and it's not a big step from there to doing harm to those Others . . . since they're not really human anyway. Or, at least, not as human as You are.

"Atticus had not mastered his rage. It had mastered him. It did more than distort his thoughts: it shaped his reason. It determined his existence."

Yeah. Been there. In fact, my rage (commingled with despair) shaped me to such an extent that I am pretty sure that I was mentally ill for the past eight years. But I think I'm just around the corner from the light of day now.

So. That's the first half of the novel. Not bad, eh? In the guise of a Giant robotic Warrior novel, Mr. Annandale manages to pull in some pretty heavy philosophical shit. The body spirit duality. The nature of being human. The reality of faith . . . or the lack thereof.

Still haven't decided if I'm going to front the big bucks for that limited edition Warlord novel, but I sure as hell am going to finish this Horus Heresy book. And then I may see what else I can find by this Annandale fellow. 

If nothing else, I'll see if he's written anything music-less.