Review by Emma Greathead

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A mysterious painting left in the studio of a deceased artist throws a gallery owner’s comfortable life into turmoil. What begins as a quest for answers spirals into an all-consuming fixation, threatening to rip away Fairchild Moss’s sanity, his romantic endeavors, and the quiet life he’s worked hard to achieve. Set in 1970s Detroit, Peter Gooch’s SEREN is a psychological thriller that explores greed, desire, and a soul-sucking obsession.  

A former artist turned gallery owner becomes transfixed with a painting left behind by the late artist, Norris Bainbridge, just days after Bainbridge’s sudden death. While others barely glance at the painting, dismissing it as a picturesque winter scene, Moss’s eyes keep “returning to a spot six inches in from the left-hand edge where a small circular depression indented the thick impasto of oil paint. Barely visible from a distance more than six feet was the imprint of a female nipple.”  

Bainbridge had no reputation for affairs, public or otherwise, and he never allowed anything as personal as desire to surface through his artwork. The anomaly leaves Moss deeply intrigued. His curiosity takes him through the galleries of Detroit, to the secluded peninsula of Keweenaw, and all the way to Paris as he hunts for the truth behind the painting and the faceless muse who inspired it. His quest begins as a descent through self-discovery, awakening sexual desire, but ultimately leads to Seren—the human embodiment of greed.  

The reader encounters Seren only in small glimpses, though there’s an unmistakable sense of menace surrounding her: “She’s a ghost. No one will notice her haunting the galleries. Mayhap she’ll cross paths with another hungry painter? A sculptor?” … “Her anticipation tastes vaguely of copper, like blood in the lungs.”  

Moss’s eventual encounter with Seren feels like a long-awaited reward. Yet as the tension reaches its peak, that reward shatters into a catastrophic fever dream, disorienting the reader as completely as it does Moss.

For most of the novel, readers are left in the dark about who, or what, Seren truly is, which makes her character all the more fascinating. Moss’s eventual encounter with Seren feels like a long-awaited reward. Yet as the tension reaches its peak, that reward shatters into a catastrophic fever dream, disorienting the reader as completely as it does Moss. After inviting Seren to his secluded cottage in Michigan’s upper-peninsula, Moss experiences a vision, described with: “The beast’s head grew from the pale torso of a child dressed in a bathing costume. Moss recoiled in horror. Before his eyes the face of the animal transformed into that of a young girl, delicate features haloed by heavy black hair.” Gooch delivers a surreal combination of suspense, of horror, of dread. His precision with language and imagery lends to a reading experience that is as hypnotic as it is unsettling. 

SEREN is the closest I’ll get to time travel. Gooch’s ability to pull a reader into the 1970s Midwestern art scene is remarkable—I found myself in Detroit alongside Moss, schmoozing with arrogant art patrons on their expensive yachts, and sitting at the Midtown Café across from the magnetic Claudine, who stole my heart as quickly as she poured Moss’s signature Chartreuse. 

Gooch combines his studies and extensive background in artistry with his accounts of Midwestern art culture, making SEREN an immersive masterpiece with multidimensional characters, vivid scenery, and mysteries that had me glued to the page.

Gooch combines his studies and extensive background in artistry with his accounts of Midwestern art culture, making SEREN an immersive masterpiece with multidimensional characters, vivid scenery, and mysteries that had me glued to the page. I wanted to comfort Moss—and simultaneously to shake some sense into him. His inability to see his own worth (and to see Claudine’s, for Christ’s sake!) made this novel impossible to put down.  

SEREN is not a mystery about a man in search of answers, but a twisted exploration of how desire and ambition can spill chaos across the canvas of existence. Moss is profoundly lonely, unmoved by status, wealth, or sex. He turns down staggering offers for the Bainbridge panting, hesitates to pursue romantic connections, and retreats to the shadows of his own gallery where he allows his assistant director to manage the demands of the outside world. What drives him instead is a deep, aching hunger for meaning—a painful yearning to become the artist he’d once been. Even as his creativity is rekindled through the motivation of Claudine, Moss remains unsatisfied. He reaches for something beyond him, and gradually, the Bainbridge painting transforms into a mirror for that longing.  

Moss’s journey takes him beyond the Bainbridge painting, turning into a path of self destruction fueled by his secret artistic yearning. His relationship with Seren, the enigmatic muse who holds the answers to his quest for knowledge, explores the dangerous imbalance between obsession and creation. It poses a haunting question: at what point does fascination become so consuming that one is willing to forsake the people who helped and guided them?

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