Synopsis

Taking place across a mutating set of darkrooms, art galleries, blank apartments and bedrooms; In Their Arms is an acute inspection of loneliness, desire and confusion.

The narrator attempts to simultaneously find himself and become lost completely in a world of sex, internet hook-ups, drugs and pleasure.

Within the arms of nameless and unknown lovers, a strange, often conflicted spirituality is hinted at. In Thomas Moore’s second novel, he uses a deft and purposely layered prose to create a grey area of illusions and smokescreens, where needs and fears entwine, often becoming the same thing.

In Their Arms is a disturbingly seductive assault from one of the most exciting new voices in experimental fiction.

– In Their Arms was released October 11th 2016 by Rebel Satori Press

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Reviews

Minor Literature[s]: In Their Arms by Thomas Moore — Joe Rollins

Thomas Moore’s second novel, In Their Arms (Rebel Satori Press, 2016), begins with a proposition: ‘the world is full of warmth…’ Offered not as a trite observation but as an outstretched hand to a figure on a precipice, this notion becomes a vital mantra for the reader plunged into Moore’s world. ‘Remember,’ Moore seems to beg of his reader, ‘the world is full of warmth,’ no matter how cold it might appear. And Moore’s world is certainly cold. In Their Arms maps a nightmare geography, a terrible and glittering sprawl of fantasy and abuse. And yet some warmth does still persist in the back streets of Moore’s creation: a faint animus of meaning that haunts the urban and digital spaces of this slim novel. Moore flirts with the abject, yet never allows his novel to degrade into pure nihilism. Instead, In Their Arms is a rare thing: a novel at once unafraid to confront the darkest recesses of the human condition, and yet unwilling to allow the light to be snuffed out completely.

Guided by an unnamed narrator, In Their Arms weaves through a series of endlessly mutating spaces: gay club ‘darkrooms’ playing host to predatory sexual encounters, online message boards populated by bug-chasers and submissives, cruising bars and cruising apps that orchestrate the sexual fantasies of anonymous men, web pages of the damaged and disaffected. Moore’s narrator relays these sights in the affectless tone of the chemically dependent and chronically bored, yawning his way through tales of work, parties, orgies, and death. The milieu reads like a jacked-in Burroughs, the narrator an escapee from Ellis’ L.A. haze … It is at once tender and transgressive, delicate and grotesque, abject and sublime.

Read the full piece @ Minor Literature[s]: https://minorliteratures.com/2016/09/16/in-their-arms-by-thomas-moore-joe-rollins/

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Filthy Dreams: You Make Me ____: 21st Century Cruising And Nihilism In Thomas Moore’s ‘In Their Arms’ by Emily Colucci

In 1977, Richard Hell appeared on the cover of his seminal album Blank Generation with the words “You Make Me______.” scrawled on his bony chest. While the term blank generation certainly resonated with the post-Vietnam, bankrupt New York of the 1970s, they had nothing on the blankness of our digitally obsessed 21st century. In fact, it feels almost prophetic.

“The journey home is a blank. I’m so blurry that the world and my interactions with it are too opaque for either component to illuminate the other enough to form anything approaching sense,” opens Thomas Moore’s second novel In Their Arms, which was recently published by Rebel Satori Press. The experimental fictional novel narrates the alienation, detachment and aloofness of our contemporary era despite the buffet of bodies available on online hook-up sites, gay bars and cruising apps. Even though, in 2016, there are many ways to be queer, Moore’s novel essentially shows that we are possibly even more alone.

And despite this seething isolation that runs through the book with characters glued to their smartphones and computers, In Their Arms is a genuine page-turner, which I read (quite ironically) on my iPhone in a little over a day.

In Their Arms follows an arts writing protagonist, who–like the rest of the characters that flow in and out of the book–is unnamed. Without a set identity, Moore already cements the narrator’s disconnection from the rest of the world, as well as the readers. You can never quite get a grasp of the narrator or his intentions, with the exception of some very relatable moments for fellow art critics (I’ve always wanted to write a review of a show I never went to).

Similarly, certain chapters are peppered with references to “you” (“I walk into the show that I’m supposed to review, with a black eye where you punched me last night” (57).) but there’s not a clear sense that this “you” is the same every time. It may be an ever-revolving set of hook-ups.

Like the vagueness of the novel’s characters, the plot of In Their Arms twists and turns through a series of darkened bars, various apartments, parties, openings, backrooms and obsessive skimming through Tumblr, Twitter and forums linked to an event called Cum Worship. “I feel like a ghost,” describes the narrator, “Like if I were to take my feet off the floor, I could just float or the wind would push me through the streets and cars could pass through while I was flinching for notion” (34). This sense of floating almost perfectly describes the plot–nothing particularly notable happens. Instead, there’s a strangely relatable sense of meandering through spaces–both physical and online.
Whether IRL or online, the spaces inhabited by the protagonist are hazy and indefinite, rendering the entire novel dreamlike and right on the border between memory and reality. As Moore writes, “It could be memories from anywhere” (3).

A moment mid-way through the book acts as a sly key to the ambiguousness of the plot in comparison to its emotional resonance. Writing a review, the narrator explains, “I talk about the artist using paintings as a queer space in which meaning and facts and specifics are bent out of shape and displaced by a dream-logic where things make emotional sense as opposed to a narrative sense” (84-85). This is precisely what Moore does through the novel–a nod and a wink to readers who may be wondering what the hell is happening throughout the text.

Read the full piece @ Filthy Dreams: https://filthydreams.wordpress.com/2016/10/23/you-make-me-____-21st-century-cruising-and-nihilism-in-thomas-moores-in-their-arms/

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Beach Sloth: In Their Arms by Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore’s presents voyeurism as a way of life in the eerie glow of “In Their Arms”. Featuring a main character who looks at the lives of others online, those he quite seems to dislike, the story unfolds of one who prefers observation to participation. Everything involving the rest of the world feels weary as he hooks up with the same old he saw online a few months ago, reading the comments of everybody who opts to share online. Most, if not all, of the time he reads the sort of things that sort of startle and shake him to his very core.

Even with the beginning the character wakes up with a great tiredness. Nothing feels real. All feels memorized nearly. Friendships are there, he is cared about, but returning that care appears to be a bit of a struggle for him. His career seems perfectly suited for him as well as he judges the artistic output of others. Judging from his internal monologue that forms the crux of the book, the art he could create would be rather beautiful. Much of the time he’s confused, wondering how people interact successfully with each other. This is why he makes up stories, tragic ones, of non-existent previous loves, working out every possible detail. While he tells these stories he notes how others project their hopes onto his work of fiction …With a night vibe and a deep look inside the inner workings of emotional states and introspection, Thomas Moore’s “In Their Arms” is darkly beautiful work.

Read the full piece @ Beach Sloth: http://www.beachsloth.com/in-their-arms-by-thomas-moore.html

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Cultured Vultures: In Their Arms by Thomas Moore, by Ben Arzate

In Their Arms is an excellent exploration of disconnection from life and loneliness among others … Moore’s prose is simple but evokes powerful imagery of loneliness and sex … I highly recommend picking this up when it’s out.

Read the full piece @ Cultured Vultures: http://culturedvultures.com/book-review-arms-thomas-moore/

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Excerpts:

The world is full of warmth…

Six hours later I’m asleep in the darkroom. I wake up when the light turns on. The barman tells me to leave. I push against the damp floor and manage to sit up. I struggle to get my jeans and belt to fasten. The barman pulls at my arm and tells me to get out again but angrier than the first time. He only works here because he has to.

The journey home is a blank. I’m so blurry that the world and my interactions with it are too opaque for either component to illuminate the other enough to form anything approaching sense.

There’s no music vague enough to fit the mood that I wake up in. I opt for silence. I’d managed to make it on to the bed, which for an optimist could just about be conceived as a plus. I let the tap run and listen to the sound while I reach under the sink for a glass. I let the water overflow quickly and run onto my hands. Water sprays off around the bowl and leaves an imprint on my t-shirt.

There’s an ache behind my eyes, like tiredness has swollen and become something solid and tangible. I try to rearrange my thoughts into something linear tracing back through the night. I remember getting to the bar. I remember walking around the darkroom to get an idea of who was there. I remember having to train my eyes to the darkness so I could get used to the movements of shadows, knowing when to avoid old men who are only in a queer place because their wives have died and they’re able to clearly differentiate a libido amidst their loneliness. I remember smoking out the back and trying to make the right kind of glance at the people who interested me or I felt I could potentially interest.

It could all be a guess. It could be memories from anywhere.

The buzz of the iPhone on the table feels like a sudden attack. I flinch. A photograph of my friend wearing sunglasses, giving a drunken thumbs-up. I silence the call and flop backwards onto the bed. My jeans are still wet. Sticky denim uncomfortably pulling my leg hairs. I pick up the phone. My friend’s face has disappeared and she’s relegated to a banner alongside two more missed calls.

Two minutes later and another buzz, another flinch. The water ripples in the glass. A text message: Hey stranger … are you alive? I guess we could make it dinner if you’re not around for lunch?

When I get my jeans off I realise that there is a hole torn in my underwear, a flap of material hanging out of place.

I run a bath and start to swill mouthwash around my tongue and gums. The inside of my cheeks sting as I inflate them. I let the mouth wash linger long enough to start hurting. I spit it out and lick the roof of my mouth. My tongue doesn’t taste as bad as when I woke up.

The bath takes a while to fill. I turn on the coffee machine that I inherited when someone at work got divorced. I make an espresso and drink it quickly from a normal sized mug.

I get into the bath and try to stretch. My neck and back feel sore and I wonder what a massage would feel like right now. I’ve only ever had friends do it when I’ve been high or sleepy. I lift my hips and pick at my asshole. I run the tip of my finger around the rim and then rub it with my thumb, letting the miniscule mix of sperm and dried shit dissipate into the water.

A subtle fog of condensation spreads over the small window and mirror. My skin starts to relax. I put a full stop on trying to remember pieces from last night. It feels irrelevant. It’ll only make things more complicated. I imagine what drowning would feel like. For about two seconds I’m close to sleep again.

Read another excerpt from In Their Arms at BERFROIS:
http://www.berfrois.com/2016/09/in-their-arms-thomas-moore/

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About the author

Thomas Moore’s work has appeared in various publications in the UK, USA, France and Sweden. His first novel, A Certain Kind of Light, was published by Rebel Satori Press. His novella, GRAVES, and two poetry collections, The Night Is An Empire and Skeleton Costumes, have been published by Kiddiepunk. In Their Arms, published by Rebel Satori Press is his second novel. He lives in the UK.

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Special thanks to Michael Salerno for his beautiful artwork.

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Trailer

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Links

In Their Arms @ Rebel Satori: http://rebelsatori.com/new-release-in-their-arms/
Buy In Their Arms @ Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/Their-Arms-Thomas-Moore/dp/1608641236/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1477310983&sr=8-1&keywords=thomas+moore+in+their+arms
Buy In Their Arms @ Amazon.co.uk: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Their-Arms-Thomas-Moore/dp/1608641236/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1477311037&sr=8-1&keywords=thomas+moore+in+their+arms
Thomas Moore on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thomasmoronic/
Thomas Moore on Twitter: https://twitter.com/thomasmoronic
In Their Arms @ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30115547-in-their-arms
Thomas Moore @ Kiddiepunk: http://kiddiepunk.com/skeleton_costumes.htm
Michael Salerno: http://www.michaelsalerno.net

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p.s. Hey. Today the blog has the enormous privilege of helping to usher the new novel by the spectacular author and longtime DC’s d.l. Thomas ‘Moronic’ Moore into this place we call the world. Please use your local time today to find out precisely why you need to have this book in your life. Thank you very much, and thanks mostly, to say the least, to you, Thomas. ** Jamie McMorrow, Hey, Jamie! Thank you most kindly about the gif work. Yes, that’s my first gif work/thing/whatever since I finished the gif novel. Her show was at Tramway, cool. The one incursion of Gisele’s and my theater works into Scotland was a ‘Kindertotenlieder’ gig at Tramway years ago. Nice place. ‘The Innocents’ … no, I don’t think I’ve seen it. I’ll find out the scoop. Did Halloween make a sufficient spectacle around you? Zac’s doing the very last tech stuff on the music video, and it should completed and on its way to Xiu Xiu this very morning. And then we head off to Salon du Chocolat. Very excited! Morning after love, Dennis. ** H, Hi. Happy post-Halloween to you. Yes, the 7th is spookily soon. I need to get ready. I’m glad you want to come. Thank you. ** Bernard, B-ster! It means just a massive, transcendent ton to me that you liked the new gif work. Thanks, maestro. It was very lovely to see you in Brooklyn too, and Zac seconds that loveliness or reiterates it or extenuates it or something like that. Darn about the mistiming on the NYC. ** Montse, Hey, Montse! Happy a bit late Halloween! Thank you muchly about the gif thing. I’m good. I’m busy, you know me. Cool that you liked the Youth Code album. Yeah, they’re sweet, right? That’s wonderful and very interesting about your helpful foray into lu jong and chi kung. I’m going to google them. I ended up doing nothing last night, which was fine. I’ve always preferred the build up to Halloween more than the actual night, or least since I outgrew my trick or treating costumes. Love to you!!!! ** Dóra Grőber, Hi, Dóra. Thanks a bunch about the Halloween gif thingeroonie. Fingers crossed about the video. Like I told Jamie M. up above, we’re sending it to Xiu Xiu this morning. Was the party a total blast as per your hopes or even something that outdistanced your fondest wish for it? I didn’t do anything last night, just worked. It was fine. Have a great Tuesday! ** David Ehrenstein, Ha ha, thanks. ** Bill, Hi, Bill. No, no annotating, just laborious (but pleasurable) trial and error until I find combos that work. Unlike Blogger, WordPress provides the data on how many times each post gets revised before you launch it, and the Halloween one was revised 373 times, which I guess gives some kind of sense of how time-consuming the building of those things are. Cool that you sprang for the giant-sized ‘RB’, and I do remember that ‘in case you didn’t’ ending, ha ha, yes. Good luck with all of your work this week if I don’t get to see you in the meantime. ** Tosh Berman, Thanks, Tosh. I think coffee might be to the gif works the way LSD is to ‘2001’, ha ha. ** Damien Ark, Hi, Damien. Thanks a lot, man. Jeez, I hope you’re feeling a lot better today. Sick on Halloween is just cruel. ** Steevee, Hi. Good news for now on the withdrawals and sleep amount. I hope future bridges are just as crossable. Oh, gosh, I so completely disagree with you that WA’s work with that thematic is just playing out a sexist male fantasy trope. I think we come at this issue from super oppositional places. To me, the whole notion of what constitutes ‘interesting analysis or spin’ is nothing but subjective, as is what constitutes ‘a sexist male fantasy trope’. The idea that he should balance out his interest in depicting older man/younger woman relationships by flipping that … I mean, his films aren’t documentaries. Look, during my entire writing life my work has been consistently attacked by some people along exactly that same line. That my books depict sex/violence without ‘interesting analysis or spin’ and thus just perpetuate homophobic portrayals of gays. I think that criticism is bunk and rigid and preset and generalizing and, as a consequence, deeply inattentive, both in the case of my work and in the case of Allen’s, regarding this issue too. Sorry, that particular way of reading art is a real bee in my bonnet. ** Daniel and Eric, Hi Daniel and Eric! Welcome! Oh, sure, I’ll write to you today. That sounds very intriguing. Thank you very much. Oh, and my email, if you’d like it, is: denniscooper72@outlook.com. ** Thomas Moronic, Mr T! So very, very happy to have your work and book grace this humble abode today. Thank you so much! I can’t wait to read the novel! Love your Halloween look. Very scary. *Brrr* Love, me. ** Jeff Jackson, Hi, Jeff! Happy Day After! Thank you kindly for your attentiveness to the gif work and your good words. Would love to see photos of your sculpture show, for sure. I’ll keep the Facebook version of my eyes peeled. Work-wise, I just finished the Xiu Xiu video, am in-between things on the opera and TV series projects as we await confirmations, am getting ready to start work on the new film with Zac, so kind of in a brief lull at the very moment. And you? ** New Juche, Hi, Joe! Great to see you, man! On the opera, we’re currently awaiting the feedback of the musician/composer who is going over the libretto sketch and preliminary ideas now. So, it’s on hold until he gets back to us. Which should be very soon. Take care! ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi, Ben. Happy Yesterday (and Today too)! If I have correctly parsed your screenprint idea based on your little description, I’m on board and excited too! ** Toniok, Hi, man! So nice to see you! I hope you had a very, very fun Halloween! ** Nemo, Hey. Glad you liked sadness. I will never have characters like that, ha ha. Belated Halloween of Happiness to you and yours! ** B, Hi, B! Thank you so much. Oh, the title refers to the toll of injuries and deaths in the gif work itself. Later, gator. ** Misanthrope, Hi, G. Well, it can’t just be gone. Find it. Ugh is very useful. And it is capable of radiating many different tones, which is useful as well. I don’t have a clue who David Laid is, of course, but I will remove that ignorance during the course of this day. My Halloween was not happy but it had a mild pleasantness quality that was perfectly acceptable. ** Sypha, Hi. My friend and collaborator Jonathan C. is historically a Lady Gaga fan, and he was playing her new album as the soundtrack to his warm up exercises during the ‘Kindertotenlieder’ rehearsals last week, so I heard at least most of the album, and I thought it was dull as dishwater, as did a very crestfallen Jonathan C. I know, post-kid, Halloween’s mojo is entirely conceptual, which is okay, but … ** Alistair, Hi, Alistair! Thank you so much about the gif work. Yeah, man, I know what you’re going through with the submissions from personal experience and many times. It’s kind of an interesting process if you can manage to depersonalize it. Very interesting about the revision. I have no doubt in the world that the book will get a wonderful home, and I just hope that it’s sooner than later. I’ll munch some chocolate and astral project my consequent joy in your direction today. Love, me. ** Hyperbolic_plain, Hey! Exactly, on the Hecker show. You put it really, really well. I do like Ben Frost and Jóhann Jóhannsson, yes. The latter has started to tire me out a little bit in recent years. A kind of settling of his thing or something. But, yeah, Frost for sure. Excellent that you’re here for a while. Where are you exactly? Let’s do a coffee for sure. It might be a bit tough this week ‘cos I’m getting ready for a short-long trip to the States, but I’ll be back on the 18th, so maybe after I get back, if that works for you? My email is denniscooper72@outlook.com. Have a fine day! ** Chris dankland, Hi, Chris! I loved your leaping. I didn’t even eat candy last night, but I’m going to eat a ton of funny looking chocolates today, so no prob. Thank you so, so much to putting your mind to the intricacies of the gif work. I so appreciate it. I don’t know that Salem song, but I’ll play it for myself in full in a minute. Thank you! Oh, man, really, reading your thoughts on the gif work was very exciting. Another exciting thing is that Dorothea Lasky is going to be one of the artists who reads/interprets my gif works at the New Museum event! I’m going to be in the US on election day. I’m very scared. Have a most, most fine day! ** Jeff Coleman, Hi, Jeff! You’re a sight for sore eyes, as they say. Halloween’s kaput over here, yep. And, yes, you did scare me. I’m still scared. Can you tell? I loved your exit. It’s one for the books. ** Right. Now spend your day greeting Thomas Moore’s book, and thank you, and see you tomorrow.