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Michael P. Charlton
Author
Late Winter

Adult; General Fiction (including literary and historical); (Market)

"Michael P. Charlton's novel Late Winter is so gritty that he could eat Charles Bukowski for breakfast. It is raw, it is real and it is utterly decadent. Not for the faint of heart. I highly recommend it."
— JOHN DAVID EBERT, CULTURAL CRITIC

"Late Winter is an unusually strong literary debut; an artistic statement that has the reader turning the page as his characters plummet ever deeper into hell. Michael P. Charlton has a skill for writing rich dialogue, likeable characters and memorable conflicts, the relationships enriched by violence and tenderness."
— JAMES ANDERS BANKS, BOOKER PRIZE LISTED AWARD-WINNING NOVELIST 

"Charlton has crafted a novel that smacks of originality. Charlton's prose is shockingly raw, delivered throughout in choppy bites. The novel has a decidedly tongue-in-cheek feel and the prose is designed to reflect the depravity, listlessness, and self-loathing of the characters."
— BOOKLIFE PRIZE 

“Charlton commits to it all being a highly inventive ordeal, a soiling, not-for-the-squamish spree abounding in gore, filth, viciously off-kilter monologues, and bizarre sexual escapades. The result may pleasingly jolt readers who favour poetic squalor. Comparable Titles: Charles Bukowski, Chuck Palahniuk.” — PUBLISHERS WEEKLY                                                                                                                                                                                         

 "The exploration of a society's moral decay, intertwined with the characters' descent into darkness, creates a haunting and thought-provoking read. One of the strengths of Charlton's work lies in his ability to create a cast of deeply flawed characters, each grappling with their unique set of issues."
— DISCOVERY REVIEW 

Late Winter will grab you by the throat and drag you into the totalitarian darkness. A darkness which very few writers are willing to face.

DRUGS, CRIME, LOVE, FAMILY, DIGITAL HELL, ESCAPE...

Is technology rotting our brains?

Ask rough and ready Lad as we follow his journey through a sea of absurdity, extravagance and danger. Look on as a new world of dystopian-dirty realism is created. Explore how the gritty and degenerate land folk survive within a tracked and traced society. Join us as we watch man's eye follow the earth's animal.

Plot/Idea: 6 out of 10
Originality: 7 out of 10
Prose: 7 out of 10
Character/Execution: 6 out of 10
Overall: 6.50 out of 10

Assessment:

Plot/Idea: Late Winter, a deeply visceral fever dream of a novel, is challenging to track at times, as Charlton manipulates the novel through satiric observations that keep the main players at a distance from the reader. As the story progresses, so do the outlandish events happening to the narrator and his girlfriend, Lass.

Prose: Charlton’s prose is shockingly raw, delivered throughout in choppy bites. The novel has a decidedly tongue-in-cheek feel and the prose is designed to reflect the depravity, listlessness, and self-loathing of the characters. 

Originality: Charlton, a capable author, has crafted a novel that smacks of originality, though the very elements that make this book unique will also be the most challenging for readers.

Character/Execution: The narrator’s angst oozes off the pages, though he is a difficult character for readers to connect with. Supporting characters are equally appalling, vicious, and miserable. Just, it would seem, as the author intended.

Date Submitted: June 12, 2023

Reviews
Charlton’s apocalyptic, pointedly off-putting debut crash-courses the reader through the mental landscape of Lad, a troubled man from the streets surviving in a bleak near future of relentless surveillance, government lobotomies, and rampant hedonism of the grubbiest sort. “Everything left standing in this torn-apart city is digital,” Lad reports, suggesting his existence is what our own might be trending towards. Things are so bad that, early on, Lad imagines that he might soon turn to street prostitution just for “an online score.” The humiliations of the flesh extend to the mind, too, as Lad awakens in a miserable medical facility and discovers a set of stitches in his head. He’s subjected to experimental treatments, which supercharges the atmosphere of psychological horror and narrative uncertainty. Whether what follows is real or in Lad’s head, Charlton commits to it all being a highly inventive ordeal, a soiling, not-for-the-squeamish spree abounding in gore, filth, viciously off-kilter monologues, and bizarre sexual escapades.

The result may pleasingly jolt readers who favor poetic squalor, as Lad—in prose that varies from tightly controlled to squalling freakouts—faces weird surgeries, ugly encounters, mob violence, and sundry miscellaneous offenses: sleeping in his own excrement; his grandfather’s relationship with an underage girl; his own abusive relationship with Lass. Despite all he endures, Lad would do anything for Lass, and amid their sufferings they still cling to life. He notes that both know how to hang themselves, and the fact that they haven’t, yet, must mean something.

“Do I even exist without the acknowledgment of others?” Lad asks, late in the novel. That’s a fascinating question for any narrator, especially one in a book that does everything it can to inspire readers to stop reading before they get to it. As Charlton lays bare Lad’s mind—and offers un-edifying updates on Lad’s farts and penis size—the novel leaves it to readers to make sense of how the world got to this point, and what to make of a bleakly beautiful climax.

Takeaway: Bleak, filthy dispatch from the gutters of a near-future dystopia.

Comparable Titles: Charles Bukowski, Chuck Palahniuk.

Production grades
Cover: A
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A-
Marketing copy: A

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