ASMODEUS

A feverish, genre-defying journey through the underworld of Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, fueled by demons, heavy metal, and political ghosts.

“Rudy was a suit Asmodeus could put on, he could see through his eyes, he could grip with his hands, walk with his feet": In Indiana’s startling and inventive tale of demonic possession, Asmodeus is an ancient spirit whose powers are fading. After decades inhabiting Rudy—a Dominican heavy metal star whose body has been ravaged by a career full of drugs, sex, and rock ‘n’ roll—the demon desperately seeks a replacement before it’s too late. An acclaimed Dominican novelist, singer-songwriter, and producer, Indiana chronicles a frantic week in which Asmodeus ricochets among potential candidates on his “pentagram-shaped rollercoaster ride” through Santo Domingo’s underworld in the 1990s. The novel opens with familiar supernatural props and entities—demons, witches, possession, spells—but Indiana quickly transforms the plot into something far richer. Asmodeus’ search for another host turns into a tour of a vivid cast of damaged souls, including Mireya, the witch who first paired him with Rudy; Guinea, a handsome young man whom Asmodeus covets “for the exciting brusqueness of a young body in which to kick around the present”; Sayuri, the object of Guinea’s affection; Claudio, a wealthy and sadistic young man dabbling in the black arts; and Rocío, a blindingly bright archangel who annoys Asmodeus to no end. Through these and other characters, Indiana paints a striking portrait of Dominican society and the lingering scars caused by years of dictatorship. Characters like Arsenio, Mireya’s dying father and a former torturer under the Balaguer regime, connect the supernatural with the country’s history of repression and violence. Indiana is a fearless and lyrical writer, weaving these strands with reflections on the fragile nature of art as Rudy returns to his youthful poetic ambitions and writes a play. Asmodeus influences the composition of Rudy’s décimas, rendered beautifully in Obejas’ translation, and the lines between inspiration and possession blur. What Indiana writes of Rudy’s listening to Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs”—that it “had the energy of the dead, a vengeful and medieval zest that made your guts vibrate”—aptly describes this gritty and evocative tale, too.

A tale of demonic possession becomes a dazzling exploration of art, desire, and the lingering wounds of Dominican history.