Kornwolf. Le démon de Blue Ball

Depending on the phases of the moon, Ephraim, antihero of this caustic, exuberant novel, changes from a meek Amish lad into a hideous, foul-smelling werewolf with a taste for Satanic thrash-metal and an uncanny resemblance to Richard Nixon. Pursued by a cynical reporter, a sympathetic boxing coach with a mysterious past and a horde of vigilantes, Ephraim rampages through the barns and cornfields of the Pennsylvania Dutch countryside, as well as the exurban subdivisions and Sprawl-Marts that are gnawing away at it. As he lopes toward a prophesied Halloween bloodbath, his howl gives voice to the hidden violence and sexual transgressions of the orderly, pacifist Amish, the "hedonic enchantments" with which consumer culture seduces the young and deranges settled communities, or perhaps an anarchic devilry that neither traditional religion nor modern capitalism can tame. This is familiar teen-werewolf territory, but Egolf, who committed suicide earlier this year, infuses it with deadpan wit and sardonic social satire, both sympathizing with and lampooning the Amish resistance—and occasional surrender—to the corruption of "English" society. Like Stephen King, Egolf (Lord of the Barnyard) pokes the dark, squalid underbelly of smalltown life, but adds an edge of punk derision. Although Egolf's climax plunges into lurid melodrama, he delivers a smart, stylish supernatural fable with an infectious bite. (Jan.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.