Review: Please, Call Me Jesus
Reviewed by: Demi Cox
Author:
Samuel Te Kani
Publisher:
Dead Bird Books
ISBN:
9781991150615
Date Published:
15 November 2021
Pages:
102
Format:
Paperback
RRP:
$35.00
Suburban banality really does provide the perfect set up for eroticism: I’m sitting in a parked Volkswagen Golf that belongs to my partner’s mum. I haven’t been in a supermarket for 11 weeks because I’m immunocompromised, but I chaperone my partner to the supermarket and wait in the car as I do so now – in the basement car park of Pak N’ Save Mt Albert.
It’s raining and there’s no signal beneath all this concrete. Will anything reach me here? A sign, a revelation, a message from the world above me? What if my girlfriend needs to know whether we have enough Greek yoghurt or quick oats sachets? Anyway, I usually bring a book.
On such occasions the book appears as an afterthought while sitting in the passenger seat. The lack of phone signal offers a sweet reprieve from the 1pm updates but the electronics of the car seem to prompt a reminder that something awaits to break the dullness of the supermarket wait: the debut collection of erotic short stories Please, Call Me Jesus by Samuel Te Kani rests in the glove box compartment and, as I pop it open a little light illuminates the book’s cover, as if proffering its words to me. Do I accept?
Yes, for the third time again, because I simply can’t get enough. Te Kani’s collection may be slight, hitting a mere 99 pages, but its size and length won’t betray you. In fact, his stories will transform the most mundane of surroundings, such as the basement car park of Pak N’ Save Mt Albert, and wherever you happen to be when you read Te Kani’s words yourself. Trust me.
Admittedly, it’s difficult to review a collection of stories that fall under the category of ‘erotica.’ Not because the category itself appears to offer little in the way of ‘literary’ commentary but because it’s rather sophisticated or, at least, Te Kani’s stories certainly show. Moreover, it is difficult to comment on Please, Call Me Jesus without giving too much away and spoiling the best scenes: there is a lot of sex, the stories are very horny and ‘filthy’ is probably a polite way to describe them.
There’s an unsavory Messiah, a monk named Tilda Swinton, as well as werewolves, a lidless box of dildos and enough fisting scenes to equal 11 weeks of lockdown. And yet the physical book itself, which is made up of five stories, bears no ‘blurb’ other than the line: be your own Messiah. Upon holding the book and turning it over in your hands, you begin to ask is this some kind of manifesto, a bible, a manual that you unexpectedly find in your glove box compartment and wonder, where did this come from? If this were a zip file, your computer would become undeniably but delightfully corrupt. Your hands will burn upon holding the book, yet Te Kani somehow manages to make it feel good.
Of course, Samuel Te Kani is a real breathing writer you can witness in the flesh. He originally hails from Northland and currently resides on Karangahape Road. But upon reading these stories that make up his debut collection, you begin to feel the touch of some unholy godly authority, which no doubt explains why he is known as a full time sexpert.
While sitting in the basement car park of Pak N’ Save Mt Albert, I begin to pay attention to all those that return to their cars with their groceries and think any of them could be Te Kani’s creations - such as Bradley the devoted Dad with tenure and a barbecue who appears in the story The Good Boy. Bradley and his wife own a beautiful bungalow; have a beautiful child, an oven that cleans itself and a fridge that talks. He enjoys “sweet vanilla sex” but by night, when the wife is away and the child has gone to sleep, he is on his hands and knees ready to please his master in whatever way he wants…
So, leave that to your imagination or read Te Kani’s book. You won’t be able to look at a person returning to the car the same way again, as any of them could be Bradley. Please, Call Me Jesus is indeed a breath of fresh air. Amidst it all, there are tender moments that will evoke earnest and transformative responses from Te Kani’s readers, for in the material of his world, there is always a pleasant kink to be found.
Reviewed by Demi Cox
