I am a convinced admirer of Rupert Thomson's novels, even while admitting that they are sometimes rather odd, though faithful to their own logic, even when imagining an alternative future development of entire countries, as in his strange and rather rambling novel The Divided Kingdom. In The Five Gates of Hell, however, he has written a literary thriller with a difference which carries the reader onwards with unfailing brio and commendable urgency.
I'm still puzzling over where this novel is set and decided it can only be the south coast of Australia because of the reference to banks of coral - Moon Beach sounds Australian too. However, at one point Jed, one of the main characters, heads off into the mountains and the setting here sounds and feels much more like America. It's probably not an important point and Thomson is the kind of writer very capable of imagining somewhere that is an amalgam of both countries. His writing throughout is vivid and atmospheric. In one metaphor he writes of "hunchback darkness on his shoulder" as the young Nathan creeps downstairs one night and I could have quoted similarly resonant images from almost any page. These pyrotechnics are integral parts, not foregrounded as self-conscious poetics, of the well-paced plot.
There are two main narrators: Nathan, who lives with his widowed Dad and sister Georgia, but as the novel opens Nathan is staying at his Aunt Yvonne's. He meets a group of boys, an incipient gang called the Womb Boys (Womb standing for War on Moon Beach), who crop up periodically throughout the novel. The other narrator is Jed, a member of the gang and it is his narrative which carries most of the weight of the thriller element, until the end section when the two plot-lines collide in a violent denouement.
This book is not for the squeamish. Sexually explicit and visceral, it packs quite a punch, especially where the novel explores the deeds of the villainous Neville Creed who has the monopoly on funeral provision in the city and supplies many of his own clients. One criticism that might be levelled at this book is that Creed himself and some of his henchmen are caricature villains. Not having the benefit of any background story, they simply appear as the dark to Nathan's lightness (and Nathan is terrifically naïve at times in this story). Jed is more ambiguous - perhaps he's the twilight element.
Straddling the divide between literary novel and thriller, there is a lot of ambition here, so maybe it's understandable that it doesn't always quite hold together. But this is a Rupert Thomas novel and it is unfailingly intriguing, exciting and enjoyable, nevertheless.