The Psychographist by Carson Winter

The Psychographist Reviews

• 
  Debbie Y

  RTC
• 
  Tom Over

  Black Mirror as envisioned by Gaspar Noé. My kind of all-American weirdness; full of dysfunction, transgression and rot. A family drama for the end of the world.
• 
  Danger

  I just finished an ARC of this for blurbing purposes and y'all ain't ready. Add this to your to-read pile if you haven't yet.
• 
  T.J. Price

  Dark and unsettling, this novel is Carson Winter's best work to date. On its face, this is a simple story, using the familiar genre trope of "a stranger comes to town." I have seen a number of reviews that see association with Stephen King's
  Needful Things, and I don't disagree, but to my mind, there is another that stands out as even more parallel—almost feeling like a modern version of its subterranean themes—and that is
  The Auctioneer, by Joan Samson. Much like The Auctioneer, The Psychographist's characters are slowly transformed by their own desires, perhaps suspecting that something is amiss, but not until it is far, far too late.
  
  The Psychographist is, at its diseased core, a takedown of consumerism—and not just the kind that comes part-and-parcel with dollars and cents. It is a sly, caustic commentary on what it is to consume, and, by association, what it is to be consumed. Mouths do more than just speak in this novel— they chew, they spit, they grind against other mouths—and worst of all, they gape (much like my own jaw did during most of the back half of this novel), hanging open only to reveal the darkness of a cosmic throat, poised in mid-swallow . . . or perhaps, mid-laugh.
  
  Winter's deconstruction of the family unit when pressured by external "forces" is a highlight of this story. Each member of the quartet becomes unraveled in their own way (even if the seam-ripper in each case is their respective desires) though it seemed to me that the narrative focused more tightly on Cossel—the teenage son and ostensible protagonist of the piece—and his mother, Vee, as they endure their family's slow disintegration into madness. Each of them, having voluntarily submitted to the forces of marketing—as well as the subsequent applications of "consumer personae"—are doomed from the outset.
  
  This novel is a cautionary tale, too, but less one indebted to the trope of "be careful what you wish for" and more to something akin to "be careful wishing at all." It may be a story about a monkey's paw, but this wishing instrument is equipped with claws—claws that sink deep into the realm of the subconscious—and which inflict carnage both there as well as in the physical world. Winter isn't interested in disclosing the exact methodology involving the agent of the family's dissolution, either: it's never quite explained how or why the situation deteriorates, outside of implications of technological significance. It's to Winter's credit that the story doesn't need that explanation—as civilized interaction and social mores evaporate, it's enough that they simply do, we don't need to be told how. Crucially, it's the aftermath of each step of this dissolution that the story examines, and the novel is made all the stronger for it.
  
  I'd been warned before I ventured into the pages of this novel that I would not be ready, that certain images from it would be branded on my brain forever after. This was not wholly untrue: there are scenes which wriggle uncomfortably in my mind's eye—even now, a full day's time after consuming them—but none of these violations/violences feel unearned or even gratuitous, to my thinking. The author is far too smart for that kind of shock & repel tactic. The characters seem to dissociate from what happens to them, or from the heinous acts they commit, and the atrocities occur at arm's length (or fingers' length, perhaps?) from them, and from the reader, too. The egregious becomes banal—it must, because everything is dimmed in the service of wanting. Vee, the mother, is the only one of the four who approaches the sublime—in a Ligottian sense—and yet even that, too, is cruelly yanked away from her as she teeters on the precipice of nihilistic climax.
  
  Interestingly, the more the family becomes obsessed with their own wanting, the more childish they become, which is purely Freudian: it is a demonstration of the pure id, unleashed. Their superegos are, perhaps, dampened (firewalled?) by the monstrous thing they have allowed into their midst. As the novel builds (literally) to its finale, it seems to imply that each of us are lightning rods, antennae, desperate for the electric caress of desire. Our receptors are constantly wide open, like the hungry mouths of little birds, for that pseudo-nourishing rush of dopamine—and oh, here is Mr. Cormorant, come to the nest, to feed that gurgling hunger . . . or perhaps, only to encourage it.
  
  As readers, though, we are insulated by the page: there will, after all, only be so many to turn until the story comes to its conclusion. We can close the book once we have finished consuming it and tuck it away on our shelves, alongside those which might appear similar in form.
  
  Be sure, however, that those books surrounding will surely quiver and shrink from the clever malevolence that this novel radiates. Recommended—but not for the faint of heart.
• 
  Horror Reads

  This novel takes the Ideas of consumerism, focus groups, and product integration to a horrifyingly level of destruction and madness.
  
  A family agrees to test a product in their home for 30 days. All they have to do is live with it, follow some instructions, and at the end they'll receive a huge payday. They're not allowed to leave their home and cannot have visitors. Simple, right?
  
  At first it is simple. It's a strange looking box with LED lights but harmless. Until it's not.
  
  Over the course of this disturbing book the family begins to change. They are slowly reduced to barely basic human functionality. And things are going to get bloody, disgusting, and terrifying along the way.
  
  This novel puts us front and center in the home with this family. We get to see them change, subtlety at first, and begin to have thoughts which turn to action that are quite viscious and immoral.
  
  The "man" behind it all is something not really human but claims to be the ultimate expert in the field of human wants and needs. He has a much more nefarious goal in mind though.
  
  This one is frightening and creeped me out. Some of the acts committed by this family are truly disturbing and they proceed to get worse as their month long "product testing" goes on. I highly recommend it.
  
  I want to thank the author for providing me with an ARC of this book. This review is voluntary and is my own personal opinion.
• 
  Emma E. Murray

  Holy fuck, that was incredible. Probably the best book I've read this year.
• 
  Cee

  Carson always sticks the landings 🥰
• 
  Jon H

  First off, yikes. Weak-stomached readers need not apply for this one. Someone looking for a relentlessly unfiltered delve into the darkest and most abominable niches of human nature, however, will likely close this book fulfilled.
  
  I consumed this book in two sittings. The first sitting was the first 33% of the book, mostly setup to familiarize the readers with the four family members.
  
  Then came the second two-thirds of the book, which kept me glued to the pages as it evolved into a brutal acid trip that compounded until the closing pages, mostly revolving around the deliciously mysterious "Product" placed inside the protagonists' home and the
  titular Psychographist who provides it (though I'll not elaborate on either of these further - that has to be experienced).
  
  I'd also like to praise Carson Winter's prose. I retained every word he put on his pages. While the main premise did take a while to get off the runway, there is no unnecessary fluff or boring filler cluttering the story. Every sentence either serves the brutal story or builds the overarching theme, transcending overdone capitalism critiques to comment on the most suppressed corners of human nature and perhaps the nature of our reality.
  
  Know this: There are things you will not see coming. I envy a reader coming into this story blind (which, with the generously vague blurb offered by the publishers, most readers will be able to do), exploring "The Product" and its purpose and influence.
• 
  Andrew Verlaine

  "The Psychographist", by Carson Winter, opens with a note from the author waxing philosophical about marketing and the pernicious impact it can have. As a result, one might think this novel is going to beat one over the head with its ideas - sort of like Zahavi's "Dirty Weekend" but for anti-capitalism instead of feminism.
  
  However, although the book doesn't hold back on its theme, this never gets in the way of the story.
  The plot follows a somewhat hapless family of four - a 40-ish couple and their teenage children - who are offered a substantial payment to stay in their house for four weeks with a strange object simply known as "the product" - something not unlike the black obelisk from "2001: A Space Odyssey". This offer is made by Mr Comorant, a theatrical, eccentric character who contrasts with the more grounded, everyday family. He seems to influence people around him, with crowds gathering around him to listen whenever he appears around the medium-sized town where the book is set.
  
  The prose is generally unshowy, and doesn't intrude on the storyline or ideas behind the book, although a scene where the son jumps off a roof while aiming for a swimming pool below stood out for me as a particularly well-written moment.
  
  I think many readers will find the main characters easy enough to identify with initially, though their flaws become swiftly magnified and distorted as the product begins to influence their psychology. (I was hoping for a little more on this, although there are some powerful scenes of the product acting as "an inner voice" driving the characters to act out some of their worst instincts).
  
  Along these lines, some of the more transgressive scenes don't hold back; I personally felt some of them could have been more sustained, but this is a fast-paced novel (especially for one where some of the worst behaviour seems to be at least partly motivated by boredom). Towards the climax of the book the story moves from the distorted domesticity of the experiment to a collapsing society to an even more sweeping scope, with some "weird fiction" elements entering the narrative. It's quite a heady mix! Overall, this is an engaging and darkly comic piece of trangressive, speculative satire that makes you wonder about a world where people's only perceived value may be as guinea pigs in market research for amoral corporations.
  
• 
  C.H. Pearce

  “Wren asked, ‘What sort of product is the Product?’
  ‘Part of the agreement is not knowing, I’m afraid.’”
  
  Loved the Ligottian corporate horror elements of this transgressive, disturbing tale about capitalism and marketing to our basest “consumer personas” (the “malfunctioning” video call! Mr Cormorant’s surreal offices!!). We follow a family in a small US town who, after being hit with a series of financial disasters, agree to participate in paid product testing a mysterious product (known only as “the Product”) while confined in their home. Then things begin to spiral… Winter excels at building dread, appearing to offer the characters a reprieve, then unleashing something worse than they feared.
  
  I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.
• 
  David Swisher

  Holy guacamole this was amazing! This book is a twisted, perverse, disgusting, yet oh so captivating story that explores how consumerism messes with our minds. It's like Stephen King's Needful Things meets Bret Easton Ellis' American Psycho with a creepy vibe that keeps you hooked from start to finish.
  
  The story digs into how capitalism and consumerism mess with our desires and happiness. It's satire on big data and just what we all think we want and need in life.
  
  I've been a fan of Carson Winter for awhile now, but this book really takes him into another level for me. Carson Winter can't miss and everyone should be reading him.
• 
  Nina Miller

  A 'cumming' of age story filled with the true horror that lurks in every suburban home... the American Dream. What happens when your family is offered a chance at their dream? What if the promise of a better tomorrow was available today? If only they could stay home and follow the rules of the product they willingly introduced into their home, one that could subvert their desires and make them more powerful than polite society dictates. What if it was all a lie? Who exactly is Mr. Cormorant, and what is in it for him and the mysterious Carmichael?
  
  This is what Cossel and his family aim to find out if they are not too busy resisting their basest urges and their fantasies for the big payoff once completing all the challenges. Within these pages, other bodily fluids spurt forth, making the pages sticky with the horrible hedonism of a family who are made slaves to the product. Like some of the best horror books, you cannot help but watch as you want to look away and hide.
  
  Carson Winter takes you places you won't want to go, which is exactly why I couldn't put the book down.
• 
  Kenya

  After finishing this, I sat quietly for a long moment. I considered this book and it's chilling foreword's meaning. I considered my own culpability for writing & posting this review. I considered throwing my phone into a quarry and running off to live in the wilderness. Only thing is, all that and I still wouldn't be able to escape.
  
  This is a very particular flavor of horror. It's not fear-- the only anxiety is from waiting for the downward spiral to start. After that, it's kind of calming, in a way: even though worse and worse things are happening, they are presented with non-urgency, an eerie peace by design. Of course this awful thing is happening, the characters have completely forgotten that it's awful. Once the stage is set, the depravity starts up pretty quick.
  
  In the foreword (which again, dropped more of a weight on me than the rest of the book), we are introduced to some of the fundamentals of marketing, priming the reader to understand that this is a book about consumerism. But more than that, this is a book about wanting. Ordinary, hideous wanting.
  
  Narratively, the story is satisfying! Dark as hell, yes, and with a heavy dose of madness. It's a straightforward sort of madness though. Even if I want to disagree on the underlying assumptions about human nature and pure id, it all makes sense. Writing-wise, it could use a little more work for its proofreading problems and especially accidental substitutions of similar-sounding words. Actual example: use of the word "innately" when they clearly meant a word like "intricately." I think maybe that's something I'll just have to deal with when reading something from publishers unknown.
  
  There are a few pieces of the overall theme (I can't rightly call it a metaphor) that I'm still trying to parse, so I'd love for more people to read this so I can compare notes.
  
  8/10
  #WhatsKenyaReading
• 
  Tim Paggi

  Thoroughly horror, but with the inner wiring of black comedy. I read this in just several sittings and it was compelling throughout. Certain scenes had me rolling at their sheer audacity, such as one later in the book, where the family in question has a straightforward conversation about committing the most heinous act imaginable and they act like it’s utterly mundane.
  
  Thoughts while reading this book:
  -technology might already be scarier than this (minus, y’know, all the self-mutilation)
  -Americans are obsessed with their family in a yikes kinda way
  -recommend this for people who wonder what if Bentley Little did a second draft and dropped acid (or more acid. unsure abt his current acid intake)
  -love when books really nail a complicated, poetic ending
  -I don’t see a ton of genuinely miserable, anti-capitalist horror and I’m grateful when I do
• 
  Sam

  Family. Icky. Mysterious.
  
  This nasty little novella is a Carson Winter classic. A gnarly tale that gets going right from the start. Not a spoiler, but a main character experiences an injury early on in the book. Carson’s description of the injury made me squirm. It wasn’t shocking, it was just so damn visceral. I squirmed for other reasons reading through this story. It’s a doozy, that’s all I’ll say.
  
  I received an eARC in exchange for a fair and honest review.
  
• 
  ari

  *4.5 but a high one!
  
  Absolutely loved this one. Had a great balance of spooky moments and also toe-curling violence, but with a reason. I am a little held back to give it a full 5 stars simply because I noticed some fairly glaring spelling errors, especially towards the beginning of the book (spelling the character 'Kayla' as 'Kayal' for instance) but other than that, highly recommend.
• 
  Mary Sanche

  Visceral, rude, too real in a way you have to constantly shove back under the bed. A greatly frightening tale that I wouldn't be able to recommend to anyone without many, many disclaimers.
• 
  Chanel

  Incest, murder and consumerism.
  
  Not for me.
• 
  Erik McHatton

  You are not ready. I promise you. No matter how ready you think you are, forget it, you're not.
  
  You've been warned.
  
  The Psychographist is a really great book, unlike anything I've ever read. It challenges you in a way nothing else can. Carson Winter has put to page a truly fascinating interactive experience that left me feeling as if I'd been through the ringer almost as much as his characters had. I know this all sounds like hyperbole, but I assure you, by the end he has made you a party to things unspeakable, and you will feel used, abused, and dirty for the experience, but delighted by it all the same, which will make you feel worse. And the ending? Nothing short of brilliant. Full stop.
  
  This is Winter's best work so far. It shows remarkable artistic maturity for someone as early into their career as he is, and if there is any justice, or taste, in the industry this book will be nominated and awarded over and over. It really is that good.
  
  Pick this one up as soon as you can.