The Meister Effect

Chicago, 2057 and France, 1327 are entangled in this electric, compelling novel

By Peter O’Brien

2022, Mosaic Press

DESCRIPTION

The year is 2057. Siobhan Eckhart, a graduate student in neuro-engineering, tests her idea that the brains of people with ADHD, OCD, PTSD and other disorders generate more electrical power than typical brains. Barely suppressing her own psychological trauma, she discovers tumultuous personal, familial, and societal powers at work, many of which are far outside her control. And how does Meister Eckhart, the 14th-century German mystic known for his elaborate theories of virgin-brides and the soul of God, influence Siobhan and the newly empowered, who call themselves Meisters?

From Chapter One

ON. OFF. ON-OFF. ON-OFF. ON-OFF. ON-OFF. ON-OFF. ON-OFF. ON.
Twitching, churning – the trauma in the streets a few moments
past still resounding inside – Siobhan Eckhart unlocked the door to her
small apartment.
She stood at the threshold, directly under the head jamb.
Words inside … thudding bodies thudding against concrete … gave
way to quieter words she said out loud to herself … calm, unruffle, compose
…
Asking her body to staunch the internal clamor, Siobhan reached
inside with her left hand, tapping with her index finger the flat electronic
touchpad on, and then off, seven times.
Then, one final time. On.

From Chapter Three

Morning, April 4, 1327. Avignon.
The first thing Meister Eckhart smelled, before opening his eyes, was
melting wax. It was sensuous, intoxicating, and in the images of his waking
dream it warmed the air of his small, locked room. He was dipping his
fingers in it, splashing his face with it, drinking it. “And they must have
added … ah, cinnamon or anise,” he said to himself as he drifted toward
wakefulness. “Some ambrosial liquid … brandy! Boniface VIII, who
thought himself the soul of the world, and Clement V, who with such violence suppressed the Dulcinians and the Knights Templar, demanded that
the wax in their candles be infused with enriching flavors. A honeyed
thurible that allows us to speak to the heavens. And the heavens to speak to
us! John XXII must have learned of this pontifical indulgence from them.
And here in his grand Avignon palais, he has put their incensed desires to
work for him. This is the pope’s wax that I smell! Aeriformed rivulets of the
divine! Caressing me …”