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The Coldness of Objects
London 2030. When a postman knocks on his door, the news he delivers will cause 70-year-old Anthony Pablo Rubens to reflect on all the sadnesses and joys of the past, while he begins to prepare for the surprises of the future.
The past still revolves around the moment in the summer of 1984 when young Anthony first realized he had fallen in love.
The present is a Kafkaesque nightmare worse than Orwell's 1984, "a hideous world where people don't need to be watched by Big Brother." It's a world that Anthony has mostly shut his eyes to, but which suddenly he is forced to confront.
And the future now encompasses the mystery, and excitement, and dread of a day as an exhibit at the National People's Museum.
A dystopian political satire, The Coldness of Objects is also a story of loss, and of different kinds of love.
The past still revolves around the moment in the summer of 1984 when young Anthony first realized he had fallen in love.
The present is a Kafkaesque nightmare worse than Orwell's 1984, "a hideous world where people don't need to be watched by Big Brother." It's a world that Anthony has mostly shut his eyes to, but which suddenly he is forced to confront.
And the future now encompasses the mystery, and excitement, and dread of a day as an exhibit at the National People's Museum.
A dystopian political satire, The Coldness of Objects is also a story of loss, and of different kinds of love.
- GenresFiction
280 pages, Kindle Edition
Published January 1, 2021
79 people are currently reading
158 people want to read
About the author
Panayotis Cacoyannis
10 books131 followersPanayotis had a magical childhood growing up in a small seaside town in Cyprus. After two years as an army conscript (at a time when the island suffered first a military coup and then an invasion), he travelled to Britain where he studied law at Oxford and qualified to practise at the Bar. Having then decided (very wisely) that he didn't want to be a lawyer, he also graduated art school, and for many happy years he worked as a painter and sculptor, until a spell of artist's block led to a very short course in creative writing...
For the moment at least, Panayotis has no plans (not to mention the energy or any trace of talent) to embark on a fourth career. Aside from reading, writing, and watching movies with his cat, his favorite pastime is "spying" on his friends while gathering unique material for his novels - thankfully they're all too self-absorbed to notice. He also enjoys making things up, especially about his friends, all of whom he loves very dearly.
His time now exclusively devoted to writing, Panayotis lives in London but travels to Cyprus often, to visit family and be near the sea.
If anyone would like to get in touch with him, there is a contact email address for Panayotis on his website.
For the moment at least, Panayotis has no plans (not to mention the energy or any trace of talent) to embark on a fourth career. Aside from reading, writing, and watching movies with his cat, his favorite pastime is "spying" on his friends while gathering unique material for his novels - thankfully they're all too self-absorbed to notice. He also enjoys making things up, especially about his friends, all of whom he loves very dearly.
His time now exclusively devoted to writing, Panayotis lives in London but travels to Cyprus often, to visit family and be near the sea.
If anyone would like to get in touch with him, there is a contact email address for Panayotis on his website.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 79 reviews
January 23, 2021
I loved this book and was very sorry to see it end. The author, Panayotis Cacoyannis, has done a masterful job (again!) of describing the human condition with its frailties and craziness. Loss and loneliness are major themes. The main character Anthony, (and all the permutations of his name) navigates life, love and losses until he arrives in a blandly evil future where too much is known, regulated and controlled.
The author cleverly bookends this future bland fascism with the fascism of the 20th century, pandemics past and present and enough references to art, history and culture that left me searching for much more information. The objects in question are, in fact, the objects that Anthony has surrounded himself with and grows to rely on as the people in his life leave and are not replaced. Objects have permanence, but unfortunately, people do not. In the end, despite betrayal, I believe that Anthony’s people win out over the objects.
Make sure you are mentally prepared for the ending. It inspires complexity of emotion in the way that true masterpieces do.
The author cleverly bookends this future bland fascism with the fascism of the 20th century, pandemics past and present and enough references to art, history and culture that left me searching for much more information. The objects in question are, in fact, the objects that Anthony has surrounded himself with and grows to rely on as the people in his life leave and are not replaced. Objects have permanence, but unfortunately, people do not. In the end, despite betrayal, I believe that Anthony’s people win out over the objects.
Make sure you are mentally prepared for the ending. It inspires complexity of emotion in the way that true masterpieces do.
January 6, 2021
'The Coldness of Objects' is a tale about Love. The genuine love of a quiet and introspective man for his sister Eunice, his grandmother Marta Beatriz who raised him, and especially for his best and only friend and lover, Malcolm, an ethereal young man who shed light and life on all around him.
It is also about love’s complete opposite. A soulless surveillance state, forged after the pandemic by means of populist purges, cruelty and murderous expulsions of blacks and other unwanteds, to provide citizens with what they’ve always desired - a peaceful life free of pollution, waste, danger and crime. It is also free of colour, art, joy and laughter.
Anthony Pablo Rubens in 2030 is seventy, and the last member of his family. He has resigned himself to daily rituals among his collection of beautiful objects, from which he derives ever-diminishing pleasure. His memories, however, he keeps alive to the extent that they sometimes attain a sort of substance. [Quote] “Feeling Malcolm’s presence and hearing his voice had been neither unusual nor eerie. For more than a week now Mr Rubens had carried on his shoulder the weight of Malcolm’s hand, just as he still carried the sensation of the last time Malcolm held him in his arms, or of all the times they kissed. These were not phantom sensations, like the imaginary pins and needles in the limbs of amputees. Rather their reality - which although it was not constant could be summoned at will - was contained in the infinity of the air Mr Rubens inhaled in a sigh, or in the breath-stopping gulps of a sob. It had all to do with keeping intact a thread that was a gateway to the past, with all the love it had contained not lost and remembered but always alive.”
A handsome postman’s moustache triggers memories of Anthony’s youth in the 1980s when he and Malcolm wandered through antique markets looking for objects d’art to add to Anthony’s collection. [Quote]“Ensconced within an armchair’s overlapping leaves, like a luminous pearl set against mutations of black leather emanating from the abstraction of a cardinal cell, with one leg over the other and his arms over the armrests like butterfly wings, Malcolm radiated bliss.”
The story shifts between 2030 and 1984, reader confusion being avoided by using the names Pablo and Guernica when he and his sister are young, and Anthony and Eunice for more recent memories.
The letter in the mail informed Anthony that he'd been selected for “Museum Service”. Selected by whom? He asks. Why? What does it entail? Questions doomed to remain unanswered due to Kafkaesque parrying of responses, deflecting responsibility by referral to some inaccessible and somewhat sinister authority.
The unusual chatty, apparent honesty of a guard and the young men who arrive to discuss the museum event, ring alarm bells. Are their dissident opinions genuine or are they trying to trick Anthony into betraying his true feelings? Who are they really? Are they spies?
For a man who liked to plan his excitement, this is very unsettling, and as the atmosphere of quiet menace escalates, he retreats further into the security of the increasingly ‘real’ memories of those he loved and trusted.
A beautifully written, timely tale cautioning us to hold close and dear the things we love, and be wary of politicians peddling dreams.
It is also about love’s complete opposite. A soulless surveillance state, forged after the pandemic by means of populist purges, cruelty and murderous expulsions of blacks and other unwanteds, to provide citizens with what they’ve always desired - a peaceful life free of pollution, waste, danger and crime. It is also free of colour, art, joy and laughter.
Anthony Pablo Rubens in 2030 is seventy, and the last member of his family. He has resigned himself to daily rituals among his collection of beautiful objects, from which he derives ever-diminishing pleasure. His memories, however, he keeps alive to the extent that they sometimes attain a sort of substance. [Quote] “Feeling Malcolm’s presence and hearing his voice had been neither unusual nor eerie. For more than a week now Mr Rubens had carried on his shoulder the weight of Malcolm’s hand, just as he still carried the sensation of the last time Malcolm held him in his arms, or of all the times they kissed. These were not phantom sensations, like the imaginary pins and needles in the limbs of amputees. Rather their reality - which although it was not constant could be summoned at will - was contained in the infinity of the air Mr Rubens inhaled in a sigh, or in the breath-stopping gulps of a sob. It had all to do with keeping intact a thread that was a gateway to the past, with all the love it had contained not lost and remembered but always alive.”
A handsome postman’s moustache triggers memories of Anthony’s youth in the 1980s when he and Malcolm wandered through antique markets looking for objects d’art to add to Anthony’s collection. [Quote]“Ensconced within an armchair’s overlapping leaves, like a luminous pearl set against mutations of black leather emanating from the abstraction of a cardinal cell, with one leg over the other and his arms over the armrests like butterfly wings, Malcolm radiated bliss.”
The story shifts between 2030 and 1984, reader confusion being avoided by using the names Pablo and Guernica when he and his sister are young, and Anthony and Eunice for more recent memories.
The letter in the mail informed Anthony that he'd been selected for “Museum Service”. Selected by whom? He asks. Why? What does it entail? Questions doomed to remain unanswered due to Kafkaesque parrying of responses, deflecting responsibility by referral to some inaccessible and somewhat sinister authority.
The unusual chatty, apparent honesty of a guard and the young men who arrive to discuss the museum event, ring alarm bells. Are their dissident opinions genuine or are they trying to trick Anthony into betraying his true feelings? Who are they really? Are they spies?
For a man who liked to plan his excitement, this is very unsettling, and as the atmosphere of quiet menace escalates, he retreats further into the security of the increasingly ‘real’ memories of those he loved and trusted.
A beautifully written, timely tale cautioning us to hold close and dear the things we love, and be wary of politicians peddling dreams.
January 9, 2021
This book is one of the most beautifully written I've ever read. Cacoyannis has such a magical way with words - the pages are limned brightly even when they are of dull, dreary scenes. His wit is sophisticated and adds much to the fun of the satire. But, oh - the love between his main characters! This is true in each of his books, but I definitely used more Kleenex while reading this one. Panayotis is an absolute master in defining the people and relationships in his books, while also building the surrounding (and always profound) social/political issues. This is currently my favorite book, and I highly recommend it.
January 15, 2021
Eerily relevant and prescient, Panayotis Cacoyannis’ ‘The Coldness of Objects’ is a genre-bending dystopian masterpiece that feels like an all-too-real glimpse into the not-so-distant future.
Set in London, ‘The Coldness of Objects’ opens with our elderly, everyman protagonist, Mr. Anthony Rubens, receiving an intriguing invitation—a chance to become an ‘exhibit’ at the local museum. While Rubens contemplates his ‘opportunity,’ he reflects back on his life, musing about lost love and innocence, all the while struggling to understand his present circumstances.
On the surface, ‘The Coldness of Objects’ is a moody, thoughtful slice of dystopian sci-fi, but as with all great fiction, the proverbial devil is in the details. By utilizing dual timelines, alternating between 2030 and 1984, Cacoyannis masterfully creates and sustains a tangible sense of momentum throughout. While much of the present-day narrative consists of intense interrogation scenes, Rubens’ trips down memory lane provide the reader with a gripping, compelling narrative exploring the shadowy confines of his former self’s love life.
For his part, Cacoyannis skillfully weaves a subtle, satirical tone throughout ‘The Coldness of Objects,’ offering readers a novel that entertains on multiple levels. Everything, from the dialogue to the scene-building, is beautifully written. Add to that a healthy dose of Orwellian themes and political intrigue, and you have yourself a book that manages to both captivate and terrify.
While ‘The Coldness of Objects’ isn’t necessarily directly about the current pandemic, the world Cacoyannis creates feels like an all-too-distinct possibility. Panayotis Cacoyannis has crafted a novel that transcends the genre-fiction tag, crafting a story that is perhaps best described as modern-day literature.
Set in London, ‘The Coldness of Objects’ opens with our elderly, everyman protagonist, Mr. Anthony Rubens, receiving an intriguing invitation—a chance to become an ‘exhibit’ at the local museum. While Rubens contemplates his ‘opportunity,’ he reflects back on his life, musing about lost love and innocence, all the while struggling to understand his present circumstances.
On the surface, ‘The Coldness of Objects’ is a moody, thoughtful slice of dystopian sci-fi, but as with all great fiction, the proverbial devil is in the details. By utilizing dual timelines, alternating between 2030 and 1984, Cacoyannis masterfully creates and sustains a tangible sense of momentum throughout. While much of the present-day narrative consists of intense interrogation scenes, Rubens’ trips down memory lane provide the reader with a gripping, compelling narrative exploring the shadowy confines of his former self’s love life.
For his part, Cacoyannis skillfully weaves a subtle, satirical tone throughout ‘The Coldness of Objects,’ offering readers a novel that entertains on multiple levels. Everything, from the dialogue to the scene-building, is beautifully written. Add to that a healthy dose of Orwellian themes and political intrigue, and you have yourself a book that manages to both captivate and terrify.
While ‘The Coldness of Objects’ isn’t necessarily directly about the current pandemic, the world Cacoyannis creates feels like an all-too-distinct possibility. Panayotis Cacoyannis has crafted a novel that transcends the genre-fiction tag, crafting a story that is perhaps best described as modern-day literature.
January 21, 2021
In a perfect world where I am an absolute genius, I'd write a clever review for Cacoyannis's latest book. The problem is that every single time I read a book by an author I adore and the book is phenomenal, I become tongue twisted –or is it mind blown– and I'm at a loss to describe how much a book has brought on all the feels. It's like this - the better the book, the more I struggle to express myself like an intelligent being without sounding like a silly, fawning fangirl. I want to give The Coldness of Objects every accolade it deserves. Five stars? I don't think so. How about... EVERY. SINGLE. STAR! Panayotis is a master of imagination and the written word. I was deeply affected by this story on so many levels. Dark, humorous, terrifying, poignant – all these things and so much more. Pure brilliance!
Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed, and it was this indivisibility that he found most disturbing, for it depicted by omission all the old freedoms. The vitality hidden in things that may have once got on his nerves had been snuffed out: there were no groups of tourists taking selfies; no men of God yelling fire and brimstone; no demonstrators marching or chaining themselves onto railings; no feverish sounds, or smells of sugared almonds and poisonous hotdogs– unbelievably no smells at all. The loudness of these absences was unendurable; it was all Mr. Ruebens could do to click his eyes wide open, and cast around for memories that might oppose the deadly dearth.
January 17, 2023
Just wow!
I simply don’t have words to convey what an amazing piece of writing this is. Cacoyannis creates such humanity and warmth and love and such a sinister world.
Beyond that he’s one of those great writers who awakens you to universal truths, drawing the reader in with such compassion and understanding of the human condition in all it’s disparate forms.
I’ll never forget this novel.
I simply don’t have words to convey what an amazing piece of writing this is. Cacoyannis creates such humanity and warmth and love and such a sinister world.
Beyond that he’s one of those great writers who awakens you to universal truths, drawing the reader in with such compassion and understanding of the human condition in all it’s disparate forms.
I’ll never forget this novel.
January 1, 2021
The Coldness of Objects
Near the close of 2020, Kim Stanley Robinson crossed the barrier between political novels and science fiction with his monumental, The Ministry for the Future. Now, on the first day of 2021, Panayotis Cacoyannis has bridged the barrier between political and literary novels with his latest, The Coldness of Objects. While Robinson’s book is a nearly 600-page mix of encyclopedic facts about climate change and a fictional international effort to curtail it, Panayotis Cacoyannis has given us a small jewel, filled with exquisite language, Intimate human characters and poignant drama, all of it taking place in a 1984ish 2030, in which populism has run amok and morphed into governmental authoritarianism.
The story begins on a small scale, with its main character, the aging Anthony Pablo Rubens, having his ritual morning coffee from his gold-rimmed porcelain cup, served to himself on “a massive silver tray whose handles formed the antlers of ivory stags.” Morning coffee was part of a routine that ended with tea at precisely six minutes to five in the afternoon, served on an even more elaborate set of bone china, decorated with an assortment of primates—chimps, orangutans, macaques and spider monkeys. These daily routines take place in "Mr. Rubens’” two-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac in suburban Highgate Village on the periphery of London. On the day the story opens, Mr. Rubens’ routine is disrupted by the appearance of courier at his door delivering an invitation for him to be an “exhibit” at the National People’s Museum.
It takes a while for Mr. Rubens to open his invitation and while we are waiting, we are treated to a description of the character, his favorite 1960’s Amoeba chair, which eventually becomes almost a character itself, and the house’s surrounds, in language poetic enough to convince us that we are on the verge of a classic literary novel concerning the musings of a member of England’s sophisticated middle-class. The streets are described in Cacoyannis’ characteristically exquisite, subtly humorous prose. “Lining both sides of his street, the gnarled London plane trees had shed all their leaves, exposing their tangle of emaciated limbs as though proud to have been stricken with arthritis.” All of this changes with the revelation of the invitation. We learn that the setting of the novel is ten years into the future—post-pandemic, post post-pandemic riots, post the chaotic rise of agitated populism, first resisted then embraced by politicians, which resulted in racist deportations and “disappearances” of immigrants and dissidents, post book burnings, post the replacement of art museums by “People’s Museums,” which feature exhibits of the newly ennobled average citizen, and in the middle of an era in which people are victims of government overreach and control, and where there is persecution of the elite intelligentsia, portrayed as pedants, abbreviated as “peds,” thought to be as suspicious in their behavior as the pedophiles whose abbreviation they share.
As we learn about the future world which Mr. Rubens inhabits, we also enter his past, the past of Anthony Pablo Rubens, a young man close to his Spanish-born grandmother and his sister, a renegade intellectual handy-woman who, in overalls and toolbox makes her living repairing houses, “no job too small.” They are a close, contentious trio, the widow and descendants of an English grandfather lost to the Spanish Civil War, whose legacy resulted in their middle names, his Pablo and hers Guernica, in homage to Picasso’s mural. Anthony Pablo, at the age of twenty, fully aware of his homosexuality, is on the verge of discovering that his roommate, Malcolm is the love of his life.
The story alternates between Anthony Pablo’s youth and the ominous present. The depth of his feelings are plumbed in language that transports the reader into the character’s experience. “[Malcolm] used his other arm to pull Anthony’s face closer to his, so close that the breath of his words caressed Anthony’s face in gentle waves.” We learn of Anthony’s innermost thoughts and conflicts. “It was different with the black and white photograph he always carried with him in its tiny silver frame, which he did often look at. It was not a reminder, because he had entirely forgotten his mother’s appearance and all her smells, but rather it was proof she had existed, and at one time had loved him.”
As we are pulled deeper and deeper into Anthony Pablo’s relationships, we are abruptly brought up by the specter of Mr. Rubens’ present day summons. Suddenly, the staid, slightly eccentric and bound-by-routine instantiation of the younger Anthony Pablo becomes a less cautious, stubborn guardian of the idiosyncrasies and exaggerations that constituted the younger man and the custodian of the memories of the departed Eunice Guernica, his iconoclastic sister, Marta Beatriz, his grandmother, and the gentle and generous Malcolm. It is clear that he has been such a protector of these memories all along, and we watch him eagerly engage the devious and dangerous representatives of the Government Party as they interrogate him about his life and lifestyle and attempt to wheedle their way into his confidence. The novel develops the intrigue of a thriller; it’s Raskolnikov being interrogated by Porfiry Petrovich, in Crime and Punishment, Winston Smith being interrogated by O’Brien in 1984. We feel Mr. Rubens’ fear, even as he is finding a way to rise above it.
I won’t disclose the ending, but this is a novel whose characters and setting remain with you long after putting it down. As I write this, I am watching crowds in the American streets, some of them armed, demanding that the U.S. election results be put aside and Donald Trump remain as president, claiming he “won” the election despite all the evidence that he didn’t. During his presidency, the government restricted immigration, and neo-Nazis and racist thugs relished in support from the president and his justice department. Science became a dirty word in debates about climate change and the Coronavirus. Those who stood up for eliminating racist and sexist language from our history lessons, were dismissed as elites (pedants?). The ugly side of populism is in ascendance and the distinction between democracy and mob rule has become blurred. The 2030 that consumes Anthony Pablo Rubens is not outside the realm of possibility.
Unlike some of my own writing, or even Kim Stanley Robinson’s Ministry for the Future, The Coldness of Objects doesn’t lecture or rant. It captures the terror of authoritarianism and mob mentality but remains a literary novel—one which uses words magically to paint a portrait of an individual caught in the constraints of life and struggling with learning what is meaningful while protecting his own vulnerabilities, an individual who must decide what to do when society says no to his individuality. It’s a story and a deep, beautiful and unforgettable one.
Near the close of 2020, Kim Stanley Robinson crossed the barrier between political novels and science fiction with his monumental, The Ministry for the Future. Now, on the first day of 2021, Panayotis Cacoyannis has bridged the barrier between political and literary novels with his latest, The Coldness of Objects. While Robinson’s book is a nearly 600-page mix of encyclopedic facts about climate change and a fictional international effort to curtail it, Panayotis Cacoyannis has given us a small jewel, filled with exquisite language, Intimate human characters and poignant drama, all of it taking place in a 1984ish 2030, in which populism has run amok and morphed into governmental authoritarianism.
The story begins on a small scale, with its main character, the aging Anthony Pablo Rubens, having his ritual morning coffee from his gold-rimmed porcelain cup, served to himself on “a massive silver tray whose handles formed the antlers of ivory stags.” Morning coffee was part of a routine that ended with tea at precisely six minutes to five in the afternoon, served on an even more elaborate set of bone china, decorated with an assortment of primates—chimps, orangutans, macaques and spider monkeys. These daily routines take place in "Mr. Rubens’” two-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac in suburban Highgate Village on the periphery of London. On the day the story opens, Mr. Rubens’ routine is disrupted by the appearance of courier at his door delivering an invitation for him to be an “exhibit” at the National People’s Museum.
It takes a while for Mr. Rubens to open his invitation and while we are waiting, we are treated to a description of the character, his favorite 1960’s Amoeba chair, which eventually becomes almost a character itself, and the house’s surrounds, in language poetic enough to convince us that we are on the verge of a classic literary novel concerning the musings of a member of England’s sophisticated middle-class. The streets are described in Cacoyannis’ characteristically exquisite, subtly humorous prose. “Lining both sides of his street, the gnarled London plane trees had shed all their leaves, exposing their tangle of emaciated limbs as though proud to have been stricken with arthritis.” All of this changes with the revelation of the invitation. We learn that the setting of the novel is ten years into the future—post-pandemic, post post-pandemic riots, post the chaotic rise of agitated populism, first resisted then embraced by politicians, which resulted in racist deportations and “disappearances” of immigrants and dissidents, post book burnings, post the replacement of art museums by “People’s Museums,” which feature exhibits of the newly ennobled average citizen, and in the middle of an era in which people are victims of government overreach and control, and where there is persecution of the elite intelligentsia, portrayed as pedants, abbreviated as “peds,” thought to be as suspicious in their behavior as the pedophiles whose abbreviation they share.
As we learn about the future world which Mr. Rubens inhabits, we also enter his past, the past of Anthony Pablo Rubens, a young man close to his Spanish-born grandmother and his sister, a renegade intellectual handy-woman who, in overalls and toolbox makes her living repairing houses, “no job too small.” They are a close, contentious trio, the widow and descendants of an English grandfather lost to the Spanish Civil War, whose legacy resulted in their middle names, his Pablo and hers Guernica, in homage to Picasso’s mural. Anthony Pablo, at the age of twenty, fully aware of his homosexuality, is on the verge of discovering that his roommate, Malcolm is the love of his life.
The story alternates between Anthony Pablo’s youth and the ominous present. The depth of his feelings are plumbed in language that transports the reader into the character’s experience. “[Malcolm] used his other arm to pull Anthony’s face closer to his, so close that the breath of his words caressed Anthony’s face in gentle waves.” We learn of Anthony’s innermost thoughts and conflicts. “It was different with the black and white photograph he always carried with him in its tiny silver frame, which he did often look at. It was not a reminder, because he had entirely forgotten his mother’s appearance and all her smells, but rather it was proof she had existed, and at one time had loved him.”
As we are pulled deeper and deeper into Anthony Pablo’s relationships, we are abruptly brought up by the specter of Mr. Rubens’ present day summons. Suddenly, the staid, slightly eccentric and bound-by-routine instantiation of the younger Anthony Pablo becomes a less cautious, stubborn guardian of the idiosyncrasies and exaggerations that constituted the younger man and the custodian of the memories of the departed Eunice Guernica, his iconoclastic sister, Marta Beatriz, his grandmother, and the gentle and generous Malcolm. It is clear that he has been such a protector of these memories all along, and we watch him eagerly engage the devious and dangerous representatives of the Government Party as they interrogate him about his life and lifestyle and attempt to wheedle their way into his confidence. The novel develops the intrigue of a thriller; it’s Raskolnikov being interrogated by Porfiry Petrovich, in Crime and Punishment, Winston Smith being interrogated by O’Brien in 1984. We feel Mr. Rubens’ fear, even as he is finding a way to rise above it.
I won’t disclose the ending, but this is a novel whose characters and setting remain with you long after putting it down. As I write this, I am watching crowds in the American streets, some of them armed, demanding that the U.S. election results be put aside and Donald Trump remain as president, claiming he “won” the election despite all the evidence that he didn’t. During his presidency, the government restricted immigration, and neo-Nazis and racist thugs relished in support from the president and his justice department. Science became a dirty word in debates about climate change and the Coronavirus. Those who stood up for eliminating racist and sexist language from our history lessons, were dismissed as elites (pedants?). The ugly side of populism is in ascendance and the distinction between democracy and mob rule has become blurred. The 2030 that consumes Anthony Pablo Rubens is not outside the realm of possibility.
Unlike some of my own writing, or even Kim Stanley Robinson’s Ministry for the Future, The Coldness of Objects doesn’t lecture or rant. It captures the terror of authoritarianism and mob mentality but remains a literary novel—one which uses words magically to paint a portrait of an individual caught in the constraints of life and struggling with learning what is meaningful while protecting his own vulnerabilities, an individual who must decide what to do when society says no to his individuality. It’s a story and a deep, beautiful and unforgettable one.
January 30, 2021
“The Coldness of Objects” by Panayotis Cacoyannis is one of those excellent stories that just keeps getting better as you read on. It’s the early 2030s and the story opens in the tastefully decorated living room of our protagonist Anthony Pablo Rubens. Anthony in his early 70’s and retired from the British Civil Service. He lives alone and is a creature of habit following a strict schedule as he goes about his day and initially appears to be a stiff buttoned-up pensioner, that is until the postman knocks. Anthony receives a special delivery from a postman who has a pencil-thin mustache that reminds Anthony of an acquaintance from long ago. This spreads the story out as the mustache sends Anthony into a flashback from his younger days that allows the readers to see into Anthony’s past and his soul. The actual letter delivered sets up an important part of the story yet to come.
Anthony is very close to his older sister Eunice, a female handyman and interesting individual who is interested in politics. The politics of 2030’s Britain partly resemble George Orwell’s 1984 and partly resemble the rabid insurgent mob that recently attacked the U.S. Capitol Building. The story also refers to the pandemic of the 2020s.
Panayotis Cacoyannis has written a wonderful book where everything and everybody seems to come full circle. Even the first paragraph of the book shows up later as the first paragraph of a story that Anthony's lover wrote about him. All the characters matter. My purpose here is to give just a taste of the exquisite flavor of this story with no spoilers so you, curious reader, can read and become as enraptured in this story as I was. Love, family, friendship, hope, political intrigue, science fiction, life, and death. It’s all here just waiting for you. What a great book, don’t miss it.
Anthony is very close to his older sister Eunice, a female handyman and interesting individual who is interested in politics. The politics of 2030’s Britain partly resemble George Orwell’s 1984 and partly resemble the rabid insurgent mob that recently attacked the U.S. Capitol Building. The story also refers to the pandemic of the 2020s.
Panayotis Cacoyannis has written a wonderful book where everything and everybody seems to come full circle. Even the first paragraph of the book shows up later as the first paragraph of a story that Anthony's lover wrote about him. All the characters matter. My purpose here is to give just a taste of the exquisite flavor of this story with no spoilers so you, curious reader, can read and become as enraptured in this story as I was. Love, family, friendship, hope, political intrigue, science fiction, life, and death. It’s all here just waiting for you. What a great book, don’t miss it.
January 20, 2021
The Coldness of Objects. The title says it all. This timely, heartbreaking novel, the sixth by Panayotis Cacoyannis, reminds us of what is really important in life. This is a chilling portrayal of how our future might look and feel, if we allow it, yet, at its heart, there is hope and, most of all, a reminder that it is love and connection to others that give life its joy and meaning.
Cacoyannis places us there, in Anthony Pablo Rubens’ off-kilter, dystopian world of London, 2030, with his unfailing attention to detail and sublime characterization. Every novel written by Cacoyannis is a surprise. Always filled with beautiful, evocative prose, each book takes us to a completely different place and reveals its story, setting, and characters, layer by layer, always leaving us wanting more. The Coldness of Objects is no exception. The melancholy Anthony Pablo, his rebellious sister, Eunice Guernica, sweet, lovely Malcolm, and beautiful, stoic, and wise Marta Beatriz, will always be with me, and my world is better for knowing them.
Cacoyannis places us there, in Anthony Pablo Rubens’ off-kilter, dystopian world of London, 2030, with his unfailing attention to detail and sublime characterization. Every novel written by Cacoyannis is a surprise. Always filled with beautiful, evocative prose, each book takes us to a completely different place and reveals its story, setting, and characters, layer by layer, always leaving us wanting more. The Coldness of Objects is no exception. The melancholy Anthony Pablo, his rebellious sister, Eunice Guernica, sweet, lovely Malcolm, and beautiful, stoic, and wise Marta Beatriz, will always be with me, and my world is better for knowing them.
January 29, 2021
Again, Cacoyannis has given the world another piece of art. His work cannot be regarded as just novels or books, but should be considered works of art. Each piece is so much different than the last. It is as though there is no such word as "genre" for Cacoyannis. This piece is no exception.
This piece takes the reader back and forth in London from the 1980s and its freedoms and gaiety, and a new disease that the then President of the United States would not even acknowledge in his speeches because it was grieviously mistaken as the "gay man's disease", and into 2030, in which a deadly virus in 2020 caused permanent damage, not only to people's health around the globe, but to the governing bodies of the world themselves, with the United Kingdom being no exception.
I found myself reflecting over this change in the people and government and eerily seeing that this could, in fact, become our future if there is this continuous hatred for others who are different than ourselves and a stubborn, child-like defiance from the different parties and factions in a government, refusing to work together as one unified governing power. After what I have witnessed in the last four years in the governing powers in the United States, January 6th at the Capitol building in Washington, DC, and what followed afterwards, I can see this work as a warning to its readers.
The world of 2030 has changed in a way in which perfection is seen as tantamount, with no allowance for self expression. Although some very huge improvements have been made in medicine and the environment, it makes no difference when you cannot trust anyone you come into contact with. An overall paranoia sets in and everyone becomes a spy or a liar, but being paranoid does not mean that your feelings are not legitimate in this newly defined dystopian future.
Because I do not want to give away any spoilers, I will keep this review shorter than the one I previously wrote that got wiped away because of glitch in my iPad. I was smarter this time and am writing this review on my MacBook and on the website which automatically saves your writing. How did we live our lives in the 1980s without the technology we have now? I reminisce thinking about the fun I had in the 80s and wonder if technology has really made our lives easier or has it become an obsession to have the newest updated everything from the biggest television to the newest, faster smart phone?
This is exactly what this piece does. It makes you contemplate, deliberate, evaluate everything you think is important and a part of your being. That is why this is not just a novel or just a book, it is a work of art. Something that makes an area of brain spark that only does so when you look at a painting or a sculpture, trying to reason what exactly what message the artist is trying to send to you.
I highly recommend this piece of art, along with Cacoyannis' other pieces. He never disappoints with any of the creations he composes.
This piece takes the reader back and forth in London from the 1980s and its freedoms and gaiety, and a new disease that the then President of the United States would not even acknowledge in his speeches because it was grieviously mistaken as the "gay man's disease", and into 2030, in which a deadly virus in 2020 caused permanent damage, not only to people's health around the globe, but to the governing bodies of the world themselves, with the United Kingdom being no exception.
I found myself reflecting over this change in the people and government and eerily seeing that this could, in fact, become our future if there is this continuous hatred for others who are different than ourselves and a stubborn, child-like defiance from the different parties and factions in a government, refusing to work together as one unified governing power. After what I have witnessed in the last four years in the governing powers in the United States, January 6th at the Capitol building in Washington, DC, and what followed afterwards, I can see this work as a warning to its readers.
The world of 2030 has changed in a way in which perfection is seen as tantamount, with no allowance for self expression. Although some very huge improvements have been made in medicine and the environment, it makes no difference when you cannot trust anyone you come into contact with. An overall paranoia sets in and everyone becomes a spy or a liar, but being paranoid does not mean that your feelings are not legitimate in this newly defined dystopian future.
Because I do not want to give away any spoilers, I will keep this review shorter than the one I previously wrote that got wiped away because of glitch in my iPad. I was smarter this time and am writing this review on my MacBook and on the website which automatically saves your writing. How did we live our lives in the 1980s without the technology we have now? I reminisce thinking about the fun I had in the 80s and wonder if technology has really made our lives easier or has it become an obsession to have the newest updated everything from the biggest television to the newest, faster smart phone?
This is exactly what this piece does. It makes you contemplate, deliberate, evaluate everything you think is important and a part of your being. That is why this is not just a novel or just a book, it is a work of art. Something that makes an area of brain spark that only does so when you look at a painting or a sculpture, trying to reason what exactly what message the artist is trying to send to you.
I highly recommend this piece of art, along with Cacoyannis' other pieces. He never disappoints with any of the creations he composes.
January 9, 2021
This is the third book that I have read recently read by Panayotis Cacoyannis having discovered him during lockdown, I have three more lined up ready to read.
The Coldness of Objects is another excellent book, clearly influenced by the despair of the pandemic and partly set in a dystopian sanitised near future. The book refers to Kafka, Orwell and Murakami, the influence of each being clear to see, maybe with a touch of Genet thrown in.
I highly recommend this book.
The Coldness of Objects is another excellent book, clearly influenced by the despair of the pandemic and partly set in a dystopian sanitised near future. The book refers to Kafka, Orwell and Murakami, the influence of each being clear to see, maybe with a touch of Genet thrown in.
I highly recommend this book.
February 9, 2021
My review is a quote from the book:
"My advice, for what it’s worth? Never think in black and white, nothing’s ever either or. Try and imagine just a little Murakami in between, and I promise you an experience you’ll enjoy."
"My advice, for what it’s worth? Never think in black and white, nothing’s ever either or. Try and imagine just a little Murakami in between, and I promise you an experience you’ll enjoy."
March 5, 2021
‘By clinging on to grief so implacably, he had made himself impervious to life’
British author Panayotis Cacoyannis was born and grew up in Cyprus, studied Law at Oxford, and then moved to London and qualified to practice at the Bar. The Legal landscape was not to his liking so he changed careers and entered Art School. Winning a Degree in Fine Art, and an MA in Painting from the Royal College of Art, he spent his next years painting and sculpting. Another career step directed him to courses in Creative Writing. So in his debut novel THE DEAD OF AUGUST he tossed in all prior experience and out came a novel that is a delight to read on many levels. Cacoyannis seems to have a penchant for satire and parody and has absorbed that inherently British sense of comedy touched with Cyprian flavors that makes his writing not only entertaining but lightens our own lives a bit - seeing how absurdity just may be the best medicine for surviving at the moment! Much the same can be said about his subsequent novels – BOWL OF FRUIT (1907), POLK, HARPER & WHO, FINGER OF AN ANGEL, THE MADNESS OF GRIEF, and now THE COLDNESS OF OBJECTS - only now the increasing sophistication of how Panayotis dissects ‘one man’s lonely rebellion and journey to courage, after early loss and a life of withdrawal and isolation’ (from the author’s words) makes his work even more impressive.
Panayotis sculpts figures – his characters – with such polish that in but a few words we are able to visualize and appreciate them. Example, as we meet Anthony Rubens: ‘In the exquisite comfort of his favourite armchair – an original, and signed, 1960s Amoeba – Mr Rubens contemplated his surroundings with pleasure. He was a man of impeccable taste, if he sad so himself: a real connoisseur. One leg crossed over the other, rather sprawled in the vastness of this singular piece of design, he basked in the warm, affectionate light of the fiberglass lamp that loomed overhead, suspended from the ceiling by invisible threads. Mr Rubens held his cup in mid-air in a satisfied reverie as if to savour the moment for longer, though precisely what moment he savoured, and why, Mr Rubens would have found it hard to describe…’ And very subtly we discover Mr Rubens is a gay man simply by the author’s exceptional use of descriptive language.
The story, so very successful on many levels, is condensed as follows: ‘London 2030. When a postman knocks on his door, the news he delivers will cause 70-year-old Anthony Pablo Rubens to reflect on all the sadnesses and joys of the past, while he begins to prepare for the surprises of the future. The past still revolves around the moment in the summer of 1984 when young Anthony first realized he had fallen in love. The present is a Kafkaesque nightmare worse than Orwell's 1984, "a hideous world where people don't need to be watched by Big Brother." It's a world that Anthony has mostly shut his eyes to, but which suddenly he is forced to confront. And the future now encompasses the mystery, and excitement, and dread of a day as an exhibit at the National People's Museum.’
With this particularly fine novel Panayotis Cacoyannis confirms his accelerating status as a major author. He simply just gets better with each book. Highly recommended.
British author Panayotis Cacoyannis was born and grew up in Cyprus, studied Law at Oxford, and then moved to London and qualified to practice at the Bar. The Legal landscape was not to his liking so he changed careers and entered Art School. Winning a Degree in Fine Art, and an MA in Painting from the Royal College of Art, he spent his next years painting and sculpting. Another career step directed him to courses in Creative Writing. So in his debut novel THE DEAD OF AUGUST he tossed in all prior experience and out came a novel that is a delight to read on many levels. Cacoyannis seems to have a penchant for satire and parody and has absorbed that inherently British sense of comedy touched with Cyprian flavors that makes his writing not only entertaining but lightens our own lives a bit - seeing how absurdity just may be the best medicine for surviving at the moment! Much the same can be said about his subsequent novels – BOWL OF FRUIT (1907), POLK, HARPER & WHO, FINGER OF AN ANGEL, THE MADNESS OF GRIEF, and now THE COLDNESS OF OBJECTS - only now the increasing sophistication of how Panayotis dissects ‘one man’s lonely rebellion and journey to courage, after early loss and a life of withdrawal and isolation’ (from the author’s words) makes his work even more impressive.
Panayotis sculpts figures – his characters – with such polish that in but a few words we are able to visualize and appreciate them. Example, as we meet Anthony Rubens: ‘In the exquisite comfort of his favourite armchair – an original, and signed, 1960s Amoeba – Mr Rubens contemplated his surroundings with pleasure. He was a man of impeccable taste, if he sad so himself: a real connoisseur. One leg crossed over the other, rather sprawled in the vastness of this singular piece of design, he basked in the warm, affectionate light of the fiberglass lamp that loomed overhead, suspended from the ceiling by invisible threads. Mr Rubens held his cup in mid-air in a satisfied reverie as if to savour the moment for longer, though precisely what moment he savoured, and why, Mr Rubens would have found it hard to describe…’ And very subtly we discover Mr Rubens is a gay man simply by the author’s exceptional use of descriptive language.
The story, so very successful on many levels, is condensed as follows: ‘London 2030. When a postman knocks on his door, the news he delivers will cause 70-year-old Anthony Pablo Rubens to reflect on all the sadnesses and joys of the past, while he begins to prepare for the surprises of the future. The past still revolves around the moment in the summer of 1984 when young Anthony first realized he had fallen in love. The present is a Kafkaesque nightmare worse than Orwell's 1984, "a hideous world where people don't need to be watched by Big Brother." It's a world that Anthony has mostly shut his eyes to, but which suddenly he is forced to confront. And the future now encompasses the mystery, and excitement, and dread of a day as an exhibit at the National People's Museum.’
With this particularly fine novel Panayotis Cacoyannis confirms his accelerating status as a major author. He simply just gets better with each book. Highly recommended.
January 10, 2021
A post-pandemic novel with a terrifyingly abnormal “new normal.”
“The Coldness of Objects” is like a luxurious bath in words. Cacoyannis paints such beautiful pictures with his prose. This sentence is an outstanding example, “It was a melancholy evening, with the sun brightly brushing the dirty shop windows with the orange aftertaste of daylight.” I can just feel it.
As always, with Cacoyannis’s books, I felt like I was reading real literature, not just some random piece of fiction.
In this dystopian future, taking place in the year 2030, the world is post-pandemic, but our main character’s (Anthony Pablo Rubens) country, Britain, has embraced governmental authoritarianism with its Government Party being the only Party.
“As the Government Party fulfilled one by one its far-reaching electoral promises, ranging from the abolition of trial by a jury of one’s peers to wholesale new restrictions on the flow of information, and culminating in the internment, and even deportation, of that section of the population stripped of its citizen’s rights, one institution after another that had long been regarded elitist had been closed and then converted to a variety of alternative uses.” When Rubens is selected for Museum Service, he is expected to become a one-day exhibit in the National People’s Museum. These new People’s Museums have replaced the art museums in Britain under the Government Party’s regime.
Rubens must then meet and deal with many government agencies to prepare for this Service. These agency meetings become somewhat menacing, and he begins to wonder if this honor of being chosen may be something more sinister than he first imagined.
While he is pondering these ideas, he must decide which of his many collected objects to display in his exhibit. “Anthony had carried on collecting, overfilling his new home with the coldness of more and more beautiful objects — from which he was able to derive ever-diminishing pleasure. This lack of fulfillment was a reminder of his youthful compulsion to have casual sex, as though one more encounter might have made up for the utter desolation of the last.”
Our journey in this story takes us through Anthony’s life and relationships. It is a story of love, life, and death against the backdrop of a terrifyingly abnormal “new normal.”
“The Coldness of Objects” is like a luxurious bath in words. Cacoyannis paints such beautiful pictures with his prose. This sentence is an outstanding example, “It was a melancholy evening, with the sun brightly brushing the dirty shop windows with the orange aftertaste of daylight.” I can just feel it.
As always, with Cacoyannis’s books, I felt like I was reading real literature, not just some random piece of fiction.
In this dystopian future, taking place in the year 2030, the world is post-pandemic, but our main character’s (Anthony Pablo Rubens) country, Britain, has embraced governmental authoritarianism with its Government Party being the only Party.
“As the Government Party fulfilled one by one its far-reaching electoral promises, ranging from the abolition of trial by a jury of one’s peers to wholesale new restrictions on the flow of information, and culminating in the internment, and even deportation, of that section of the population stripped of its citizen’s rights, one institution after another that had long been regarded elitist had been closed and then converted to a variety of alternative uses.” When Rubens is selected for Museum Service, he is expected to become a one-day exhibit in the National People’s Museum. These new People’s Museums have replaced the art museums in Britain under the Government Party’s regime.
Rubens must then meet and deal with many government agencies to prepare for this Service. These agency meetings become somewhat menacing, and he begins to wonder if this honor of being chosen may be something more sinister than he first imagined.
While he is pondering these ideas, he must decide which of his many collected objects to display in his exhibit. “Anthony had carried on collecting, overfilling his new home with the coldness of more and more beautiful objects — from which he was able to derive ever-diminishing pleasure. This lack of fulfillment was a reminder of his youthful compulsion to have casual sex, as though one more encounter might have made up for the utter desolation of the last.”
Our journey in this story takes us through Anthony’s life and relationships. It is a story of love, life, and death against the backdrop of a terrifyingly abnormal “new normal.”
October 19, 2022
Smoke and mirrors 🤔
February 15, 2021
The humour is less slapstick than in The Dead of August, and the emotion more charged than in all the author's previous books. The tears were almost sobs.
January 13, 2021
Panayotis Cacoyannis has written another outstanding novel which wholly absorbed me and, at times, took my breath away. His use of language is so beautiful, his characters so believable, and his imagined worlds, so plausible. If you haven't read anything by this author before, I cannot recommend him highly enough. If you have, you don't need my recommendation and will probably just be eager to start this latest one. I rather envy you for having this one still to read!
February 7, 2021
At first I was too afraid that I wouldn't like The Coldness of Objects by Panayotis Cacoyannis because of its dystopian political theme that I thought would be heavy, but I was surprised because when I started reading it, I found out that it was light and easy to read but equally exciting and intriguing. The story was set in London in the year 2030 and it mainly highlighted what happened after the Covid-19 era.
I loved how it was written. The author sure has a way to pull a reader into the story from the beginning up to the last page. The series of events was totally unexpected and I had a great time following it and what happened to the characters. For me it was a refreshing read and one that I could highly recommend to everyone who wants to read something different and out of the ordinary.
I loved how it was written. The author sure has a way to pull a reader into the story from the beginning up to the last page. The series of events was totally unexpected and I had a great time following it and what happened to the characters. For me it was a refreshing read and one that I could highly recommend to everyone who wants to read something different and out of the ordinary.
February 6, 2021
The culmination of my Cacoyannis binge, The Coldness of Objects left me wanting more - more of Anthony and Eunice and Malcolm, and more of Cacoyannis. It was the perfect book to read after reading the madcap, fabulously scathing The Dead of August. I'm curious which direction the author might take next, and I look forward to finding out.
January 7, 2021
The end comes with "another flash of whiteness" and Anthony Pablo wresting control of his "story" from whatever has been planned for his day at the National People's Museum. It is a magnificent, breathtaking finale to a story of love that runs parallel to a story of what might happen if enough of us give in to "the comfort food of easy, and deadly, solutions".
July 27, 2021
The story shifts back and forth between 1984 and 2030. We follow the day-to-day life of Londoner Anthony Pablo Rubens during the beginnings of the AIDS epidemic and, alternately, the fallout of the 2020 pandemic, which we learn has given rise to an authoritarian society that is part Orwell, part Huxley.
In the chapters set in the mid-1980s, we watch Anthony and his best friend Malcolm go from being friends to lovers. When the sweet and witty Malcom develops a mysterious fever and bruising, we know things will not end well.
The horrors of 2030, in contrast, are revealed slowly. We learn about the initial shock and disbelief when the Government Party comes to power, followed by street protests and then purges. By 2030, most people are fearful, willing shut-ins. There is no more art, no more theater. Life is at once brutal and banal.
Anthony is old and alone in the world. He keeps to his rituals and treasures his memories, letting time drift by as he lolls in a mid-century lounge chair he and Malcolm once bought together on a fateful day.
This tranquil state of affairs is disrupted by a visit from government officials representing the Museum Ministry. (The Government Party, after removing all of the art, established “People’s Museums” with exhibits built around the lives of ordinary citizens. The precise function of these museums is unclear and vaguely sinister.) Anthony learns that he has been selected for Museums Service, a summons that delivers him into the maw of a vast and ludicrous bureaucracy.
The Coldness of Objects is a work of near-future speculative fiction, but of the contemplative (versus action-adventure) variety. One reads this story in order to inhabit the space represented by Mr. Rubens, who has out-lived friends, lovers, and family, and is alone with his memories in a greatly altered world.
Though the second half is highly suspenseful and hard to put down, the novel is perhaps best described as a series of finely-crafted vignettes (prospective readers should not be put off by the first sentence). The ending is mysterious and evocative.
In the chapters set in the mid-1980s, we watch Anthony and his best friend Malcolm go from being friends to lovers. When the sweet and witty Malcom develops a mysterious fever and bruising, we know things will not end well.
The horrors of 2030, in contrast, are revealed slowly. We learn about the initial shock and disbelief when the Government Party comes to power, followed by street protests and then purges. By 2030, most people are fearful, willing shut-ins. There is no more art, no more theater. Life is at once brutal and banal.
Anthony is old and alone in the world. He keeps to his rituals and treasures his memories, letting time drift by as he lolls in a mid-century lounge chair he and Malcolm once bought together on a fateful day.
This tranquil state of affairs is disrupted by a visit from government officials representing the Museum Ministry. (The Government Party, after removing all of the art, established “People’s Museums” with exhibits built around the lives of ordinary citizens. The precise function of these museums is unclear and vaguely sinister.) Anthony learns that he has been selected for Museums Service, a summons that delivers him into the maw of a vast and ludicrous bureaucracy.
The Coldness of Objects is a work of near-future speculative fiction, but of the contemplative (versus action-adventure) variety. One reads this story in order to inhabit the space represented by Mr. Rubens, who has out-lived friends, lovers, and family, and is alone with his memories in a greatly altered world.
Though the second half is highly suspenseful and hard to put down, the novel is perhaps best described as a series of finely-crafted vignettes (prospective readers should not be put off by the first sentence). The ending is mysterious and evocative.
February 1, 2021
So, although I get the subtle satire, I have to admit I went into it a bit skeptical and cynical, thinking it was swaying a certain political direction. Although I can't definitively say it wasn't, it pokes holes in all political ways of thinking in a brilliant way. It is so incredibly well-written, the storytelling is amazing. I appreciate the almost romantic descriptive language used in scenes that are otherwise ordinary, it's just such a satisfying read. Highly recommended.
February 27, 2021
Cacoyannis seems preoccupied with madness, specifically the madness of grief. He has a magical, lyrical touch, combining elegance, humanity and humour.
That was my review for Finger of an Angel, which I wrote having also read The Madness of Grief. The Coldness of Objects adds a political/dystopian dimension to the author's writing which is fresh, entertaining, and once again incredibly human.
That was my review for Finger of an Angel, which I wrote having also read The Madness of Grief. The Coldness of Objects adds a political/dystopian dimension to the author's writing which is fresh, entertaining, and once again incredibly human.
September 19, 2021
With a poetry and deftness of language and imagery, Panayotis Cacoyannis has created and offered up to us a bleak and terrifying glimpse into a future even George Orwell could never have imagine.
Moving from 1980's Margaret Thatcher's Britain to a bleak post pandemic future of 2030, this terrifying and heartbreaking Story tells the tale of 70 year old Anthony Pablo, reminiscing on his past, his grandmother, his sister Eunice and most of all, dear sweet Malcolm, who left well too soon but never forgotten. All the while dealing with the lies and deceit of a government gone terribly wrong.
A must read for all.
Moving from 1980's Margaret Thatcher's Britain to a bleak post pandemic future of 2030, this terrifying and heartbreaking Story tells the tale of 70 year old Anthony Pablo, reminiscing on his past, his grandmother, his sister Eunice and most of all, dear sweet Malcolm, who left well too soon but never forgotten. All the while dealing with the lies and deceit of a government gone terribly wrong.
A must read for all.
October 22, 2021
“Never think in black and white, nothing’s ever either-or.” There are some books you just read and come out feeling so inspired. This is one of such amazing reads. The book is littered with nuggets of wisdom all through.
It’s a story of joy and pain, companionship and loneliness, love and loss. The constant crossing of negative themes over positive themes had me deeply affected on so many levels. Moody but humorous; terrifying but poignant – all these things and so much more. Panayotis is a brilliant wordsmith!
Although ‘The Coldness of Objects’ isn’t about the current pandemic per se, the world painted by Cacoyannis feels all-too-familiar or let’s say relatable to the current state of affairs. This novel goes far beyond fiction and borders on modern-day literature. It is a masterful depiction of political and literary genres.
“The Coldness of Objects” is a chilling reminder of what is important in life. Love and hope are the foundation stones on which a happy life should be built. What a lesson!
“Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed…” The Coldness of Objects by Panayotis Cacoyannis.
It’s a story of joy and pain, companionship and loneliness, love and loss. The constant crossing of negative themes over positive themes had me deeply affected on so many levels. Moody but humorous; terrifying but poignant – all these things and so much more. Panayotis is a brilliant wordsmith!
Although ‘The Coldness of Objects’ isn’t about the current pandemic per se, the world painted by Cacoyannis feels all-too-familiar or let’s say relatable to the current state of affairs. This novel goes far beyond fiction and borders on modern-day literature. It is a masterful depiction of political and literary genres.
“The Coldness of Objects” is a chilling reminder of what is important in life. Love and hope are the foundation stones on which a happy life should be built. What a lesson!
“Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed…” The Coldness of Objects by Panayotis Cacoyannis.
January 19, 2021
The author's 'unpredictability', which I mentioned in my review of The Madness of Grief, is probably what makes him so consistent. Unlikely combinations of subject-matter are united by an elusive connection that runs through all his novels, which I find hard to put into words. The Coldness of Objects is perhaps his most moving - so many parts of it are strongly evocative of sadness. And yet, as always, the feeling one is left with is not one of despair but one of an abundance of love.
June 1, 2022
A silly old fool becomes a rebel, and turns out never to have been a silly fool in the first place. Bringing his memories to life, he takes control of his "story", as Malcolm had wished him to do.
February 4, 2021
What a brilliant idea for a book in these strange political times! A tip of the hat to the role that humor and wit can play in politics. A reminder has never been more welcome.
The Coldness of Objects is an amazing, funny and captivating book. This dystopian science-fiction political satire is, in my opinion, a great work done by a creative genius. Panayotis Cacoyannis is a master storyteller who has a knack for developing realistic characters and a plot very interesting like the one of this masterpiece. I dare to say that the story is a bit slow in some parts but nothing too heavy to put it down.
I wasn’t familiar with his writing before, but I’m definitely a fan now and undoubtedly, I will check all of his titles.
I enjoyed this novel immensely and I highly recommend it!
The Coldness of Objects is an amazing, funny and captivating book. This dystopian science-fiction political satire is, in my opinion, a great work done by a creative genius. Panayotis Cacoyannis is a master storyteller who has a knack for developing realistic characters and a plot very interesting like the one of this masterpiece. I dare to say that the story is a bit slow in some parts but nothing too heavy to put it down.
I wasn’t familiar with his writing before, but I’m definitely a fan now and undoubtedly, I will check all of his titles.
I enjoyed this novel immensely and I highly recommend it!
January 30, 2022
I absolutely love everything written by Cacoyannis. I have read all of his books available. Even though The Coldness… is not my favourite work by the author, I found it very true to the author’s style, his unique take on life, his sophisticated language.
As always, the writer talked about several, not just one, big as life itself issues. The political flavour of the story is the reflection of today’s worldwide trends. The complicated family relationships are part and parcel of Cacoyannis’s work as well as art.
I am looking forward to reading more by the author in the future.
As always, the writer talked about several, not just one, big as life itself issues. The political flavour of the story is the reflection of today’s worldwide trends. The complicated family relationships are part and parcel of Cacoyannis’s work as well as art.
I am looking forward to reading more by the author in the future.
August 12, 2021
A Treasured Read!
It's not the first time Cacoyannis has written about characters who struggle with loss and grief. It's an intense, magnificent, and brilliantly written novel that takes him to greater heights this time. Even if The Coldness of Objects was just that, it would still be a major accomplishment.
It's more than that. There are dystopian elements to the story, and it serves as a warning of how delicate our liberties are and how quickly our lifestyle can be lost if we allow apathy to take hold.
The writing is gorgeous. It conjures up images from both the past and the future, both of which are bleak. It is both deeply personal and political, and the author tackled it with elegance. Characters continue to exist in the reader's mind and imagination long after the book's pages have closed.
The Coldness of Objects has gained a special place among my treasured reads.
It's not the first time Cacoyannis has written about characters who struggle with loss and grief. It's an intense, magnificent, and brilliantly written novel that takes him to greater heights this time. Even if The Coldness of Objects was just that, it would still be a major accomplishment.
It's more than that. There are dystopian elements to the story, and it serves as a warning of how delicate our liberties are and how quickly our lifestyle can be lost if we allow apathy to take hold.
The writing is gorgeous. It conjures up images from both the past and the future, both of which are bleak. It is both deeply personal and political, and the author tackled it with elegance. Characters continue to exist in the reader's mind and imagination long after the book's pages have closed.
The Coldness of Objects has gained a special place among my treasured reads.
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