In some ways this is interesting, but sadly comes across in the structure of the novel as shoehorning in these ideas almost at random. Pavlov is such a quiet character himself, that he ends up bearing witness to a long speech from the Marquis and all the characters that come after him on their politics and views of the world. But as soon as the introduction of a character known as the Marquis (and therefore the introduction to the Hellfire Society) came into the novel, I felt the wheels spinning off track for me. And what a beautiful sense of community and closure this could have been. The novel began in such a tender fashion, passing the torch from Pavlov’s father to his son, a way of respecting the lives of the dead despite their acceptance in greater society. What presents itself throughout the novel are questions about ritual and our choices in the face of death that surrounds our every day in a senseless and unyielding way. His job is to secretly give them their last burial and rites, as they would otherwise be denied due to their religion, sexuality, and other activities. Amidst all the carnage and daily death, Pavlov finds himself in the employment of a mysterious group known as the Hellfire Society. It focuses on an undertaker named Pavlov in 1978 Beirut, as war rages throughout the city and surrounding areas. Beirut Hellfire Society is more a book of moments and observation than an active plot, and as such lost me at times, despite the promising premise.
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