"Thin bony fingers clenched in his chest. He was so scared of what she wanted to say to him - that she had discovered his true being: that all he hid had been uncovered. That his mother had somehow found a mouth into his world and learned what he was. Not a boy anymore, or even a person."

Nihilist defeat, the novel - perhaps the most horrific, bleak, and terrifying kind of book to exist, the sort of novel that can only worsen the pulsing existential crisis within it's readers, the sort of novel that can only deepen the pitch black well of despair inside us, the sort of novel that plunges us headfirst into nihilistic bliss, that's Amygdalatropolis. Amygdalatropolis is many things, it is one of the most authentic accounts of "-Chan" culture printed, it's a desperately bleak and sad little book, a story about the corruption of the soul, it's about the utter horror that is existence and it's about the brutality of the internet. There shall never exist, a better, more accurate novel about internet forums in the history of literature. The only honest way to describe this book, the only way to talk about it, is to say that it's a multi-car pile up, a horrific accident with many fatalities. It's a biblical event.

Few books out there ever manage to elicit the type of emotional devastation that this one does, few books manage to capture the despair, the utter gruesomeness of isolation. It's a novel of dark web vileness, torture, sexual depravity, and parental desperation. Amygdalatropolis strips away the real world until there's nothing left of it but rot and decay, without a doubt, it is a highly experimental thing, told in a hauntingly unconventional style - but why should literature adhere to conventionality, right? Is it not better ignored entirely? Amygdalatropolis shows us this is so. Ushering in the future of horror, B.R. Yeager is a visionary, he lays bare the human condition with a sickening clarity. Amygdalatropolis is a hypnotic, affecting and all too riveting read. As bleak and ruinous as it is, it's simply impossible to look away from the gruesomeness of it all.

 

Despite the slimness of this novel, it's something entirely too disturbing and unflinching. It truly is something to sink your teeth into, it's absolutely and utterly grotesque, and delights in trampling over any boundary that dare exist. There's this thick, almost cloying fog of unease that lingers around this foul little novella, it is an utterly merciless thing, taking pleasure in its own cruelty. Not once does Amygdalatropolis shy away from the disgusting details of its abuse. But, underneath all the grime and filth, there lies a story of a mother who is simply desperate to understand her child - a child that has sunken far too deep, who has been lost to her forever in a sea of hatred. It's entirely gratuitous, but there's a beauty here in a sinister, snarling sort of way, all teeth and drool and flaying flesh. And, that ending? Man, that ending, that's why people read.

"Sort of. Let a girl commit suicide when I could have stopped her. She was gonna do it eventually anyway why not then and there."