![]() ![]() ![]() Many of the novels and stories that Evenson has written in the decades since deal in this kind of creeping uncertainty. That’s an experience that I’ve remained uncertain about to this day.” Yet the impression that someone had been there was so powerful, so strong, that it wasn't something I could deny. Nor could he see the figure’s face, though he was sure it belonged to “someone malevolent.” “Eventually, and seemingly suddenly,” Evenson told me by e-mail, “it was morning, my door was closed, and nobody was there. As the figure stood there, “motionless, mostly enshadowed,” Evenson couldn’t move. The sliding door was jerry-rigged between bookshelves to create a small bedroom for Evenson within the living room of the house he shared with his parents and four siblings, in Provo, Utah. ![]() When Brian Evenson was seventeen, he awoke one night to a figure sliding open the door to his room. Photograph by Maurizio Cogliandro / contrasto / Redux Brian Evenson left the Mormon Church sixteen years ago, but he continues to look back, writing tales of the macabre that interrogate the language of religious belief. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |