I was happy when we were getting the translations of Vampire Chronicles in Lithuania. But there are still mere three books to this day, while Anne is writing her twelfth, and I am here at an end of the fifth. And truly I don’t know what happened. Lack of profit? Well, they mostly have themselves to blame and punish, not the readers, then, for I didn’t even know the third one was released, and heck, I am a book-blogger! Or did Anne’s free mind scare the narrow ones who were supposed to give us Vampire Chronicles, and not just crumbles of it? That seems just as likely to me. So here I am thus, with “Memnoch the Devil” by Anne Rice (Vampire Chronicles book 5; ISBN 096319254X; 354p.; Goodreads) finished in its original form.
Truly, after all he’s been through, what more could Lestat do? Seems out of sheer boredom he now plays with his food, stalking them for months and months, getting to know them, and only coming for a kill at the most perfect moment and not sooner. This time it’s the man named Rodger, would be a simple man were he not a Crime Star, dealing in dope and religious antiques. And since tonight is the night Lestat decides to finish the game, he requires a secluded place to feed in. For that purpose he chose Rodger’s apartment, where both he, and his victim too, get startled by a large black granite statue of the Devil himself, so very life-like it seemed to watch them, observe them, and maybe even judge them.
Lestat, being the fearless brat prince we know and love, would maybe have put little thought to it, were it not the ominous footsteps he kept hearing in the recent past. Usually in his most vulnerable and lonely moments too. And that fear was only made stronger when Rodger, murdered and dismembered, returned to tell him his tale, as a ghost, with an aura of urgency about him, for “they’re coming for him” and thus he might not have much time… All that only to be whisked away into oblivion before Lestat’s very eyes.
Enter the Memnoch. Bored, Lestat? How about a role in the war between Heaven and Hell then?
I love Anne, and I love her vampire works. I love how she creates these passionate little stories, filled with saturated drive of life, all told through someone Lestat merely encounters and listens to. My only problem lies with me not being religious whatsoever, and thus believing in no gods. So as before I would’ve jumped at the chance of believing Lestat being out there, for this one book I cannot do so. Just this once. But other than that, it is a great, and truly unique story, and my praises go to Anne for being so capable of making even divine-filled book readable with joy and eagerness. I give it 4 out of 5, earned and firm. And I’m sure out there many will love it far more than I have did.