Peter Sotos
Author of Index
Series
Works by Peter Sotos
Associated Works
Tagged
Common Knowledge
- Canonical name
- Sotos, Peter
- Other names
- Sotos, Peter Gus
- Birthdate
- 1960-04-17
- Gender
- male
- Education
- Art Institute of Chicago
- Occupations
- writer
musician - Short biography
- Peter Sotos (born 1960?) is a Chicago-born writer who has contributed an unprecedented examination of the peculiar motivations of sadistic sexual criminals. His works are often cited as conveying an uncanny understanding of myriad aspects of pornography. Most of his writings have focused on sexually violent pornography, particularly of that involving children. His writings are also considered by many to be social criticism often commenting on the hypocritical way media handles these issues.
In 1984, while attending The Art Institute of Chicago, Sotos began producing a self-published newsletter or “fanzine” named Pure, notable as the first zine dedicated to serial killer lore. Much of the text and pictures in Pure were photocopied images from major newspapers and other print media. Sotos also used a photocopy from a magazine of child pornography as the cover of issue#2 of Pure. In 1986 this cover led to his arrest and charges of obscenity and possession of child pornography. The charges of obscenity were dropped, but Sotos eventually pled guilty to the possession charge and received a suspended sentence. Sotos was the first person in the United States ever to be charged for owning child pornography.
Sotos’ writings explore sadistic and pedophilic sexual impulses in their many, often hidden, guises. Often using first person narratives, his prose takes on the point of view of the sexual predator. Despite his early legal troubles, and the seemingly fatal stigma of falsely being labeled a pedophile, Sotos continues to garner support for his ideas and literary output.
He was until 2003 a seminal member of the industrial noise band Whitehouse.
http://www.last.fm/music/Peter+Sotos/... - Nationality
- USA
- Birthplace
- Chicago, Illinois, USA
- Associated Place (for map)
- Illinois, USA
Members
Reviews
Home by Peter Sotos
In this collaboration between Peter Sotos and photographer Michael Salerno, Sotos' text prefaces the photographs, and thus colors them if you go through the book from beginning to end. Text feeds into image and image feeds back into text. Sotos lingers in the particulars of the crimes of Joseph Duncan, picking at them like crusted scab, disrupting them with his own need and concentration. His text uses much less direct collage here, more an exercise of putting words and ideas into "other show more mouths," A more subtle and infectious juxtaposition without seams. Salerno's photographic collage work of sleeping boys blanketed by the wreckage of hurricanes is not able to be divorced, after reading the words, from Duncan as once a serenely sleeping boy, a long time ago, and how little that matters now, You see a the literal image of a broken home and contextualize that in term's of Shasta's lived experience. These boys are sleeping serenely, and what these images evoke, after everything, is the opposition between the curled serenity of her sleeping smallness and the wreckage in her mind that's not supposed to be there. show less
When compared to all of the books that precede it, it is apparent that this is Sotos' greatest work. Though you probably need to read one or two of those earlier books to realize the magnitude of the shift. The structure here is intricately crafted, taking the reader down a maelstrom that slowly unfolds in reverse detailing the tragic murder of Sarah Payne. If Sotos' nineties work is percussive and bludgeoning, this is a maddening drone exacted with a high level of empathy, suspicion, and show more revelations of intent. This is a document that draws out the parallels and disconnects between public and private obsession. Sotos' articulates the messy divide between himself and his subject, which is always, rightfully, the victim.
Distinctions are made between the narrator who talks about these children, the men who have hurt them, and the parents who mourn them in such a questionably public manner. The fascinating thing here is how all three are treated with specifically unique feelings of disgust. After reading the short text, around one hundred and fifty pages, the photo portion hits you like a blast. The gaze that their careful presentation forces you to adopt makes you meditate on the author's personal obsession, the media's public and exploitative fascination, and on the victims themselves. You have a desire to try and see who they really are, beyond the text and beyond the image, and you realize tragically that these children are unable to be divorced from the grizzly reality of their end, and that their end is all they signify to everybody involved. show less
Distinctions are made between the narrator who talks about these children, the men who have hurt them, and the parents who mourn them in such a questionably public manner. The fascinating thing here is how all three are treated with specifically unique feelings of disgust. After reading the short text, around one hundred and fifty pages, the photo portion hits you like a blast. The gaze that their careful presentation forces you to adopt makes you meditate on the author's personal obsession, the media's public and exploitative fascination, and on the victims themselves. You have a desire to try and see who they really are, beyond the text and beyond the image, and you realize tragically that these children are unable to be divorced from the grizzly reality of their end, and that their end is all they signify to everybody involved. show less
Sotos is hard for me to read. He is relentless. I have to put him down and come back to him. I can never read him in one go. He upsets me. He makes me sick. At times, I do not understand him and when I do, it bothers me because it makes me wonder about the sickness that lurks in my own soul. But I comfort myself that what is happening to me is that Sotos is provoking a reaction, not a realization, which is why I think this book exists.
I expose myself to Peter Sotos for the same reasons I show more expose myself to any number of artistic darknesses: I have to. It is a compulsion and one I gave up fighting years ago. Sotos leaves me bewildered, unsure about what I just read. Parts of the book are unclear. Was it truth, a remembrance of actual sexual couplings? Fantasy? Is he describing himself or is it a fiction? And would knowing the truth make any difference?
I don't know. Read the rest of the review here: http://ireadoddbooks.com/?p=500 show less
I expose myself to Peter Sotos for the same reasons I show more expose myself to any number of artistic darknesses: I have to. It is a compulsion and one I gave up fighting years ago. Sotos leaves me bewildered, unsure about what I just read. Parts of the book are unclear. Was it truth, a remembrance of actual sexual couplings? Fantasy? Is he describing himself or is it a fiction? And would knowing the truth make any difference?
I don't know. Read the rest of the review here: http://ireadoddbooks.com/?p=500 show less
Tool. by Peter Sotos
I finished reading this book at 3:00 in the morning and didn’t really sleep that night. I read it in one sitting and though it only took a few hours to read, when I was finished I felt hollowed out. Sick. Queasy. Not unlike how it feels when you crash after a speed bender. Jittery and empty yet all too aware that sleep is not coming. Parts of this book were like being flayed. I think anyone who was ever victimized finds Sotos a daunting read, but of all the books he has written that I have show more read thus far, this one was the most upsetting to me. And the reason I was so upset was because that which is wrong in this book is often wrong in me.
Of course we all know that I read upsetting books because I like being upset (or sickened or awakened or whatever happens to me when I read really difficult content). But even within that paradigm I take a beating when I read Sotos. Without engaging in too much self-analysis, I can only assume that at the end it was a beating I needed or truly wanted in some way. This is why I read Sotos. Because on some level we have similar thoughts – a book like this could only be devastating to a person who has already been down this road. To the unaffected reader, it might just come off as vulgarity or pointless obscenity. Despite being trained to analyze literature in an academic manner, I prefer to react in an emotional manner to the books I read. I don’t really care about the schools of thought and the tradition of transgression that many attempt to apply to Sotos’ work. When I read him I care only about my reaction, how he pokes at my own obsessions, how he knows so much more than anyone else about the will to harm and the will to survive harm.
I don’t know how this fact had not jumped out at me before, but in every book, keeping in mind every little bit of genuine autobiographical data he gives, Peter Sotos is playing different roles and channeling different people. He is exploring humanity by speculating about the worst things that go through the minds of the worst people. Because he is taking on the roles of other people, Sotos, in a very real sense, is engaging in psychodrama. And that is why I am so wrung out at the end of each book he writes. His psychodrama speaks to my own worries, neuroses, experiences and fears.
This is purely incidental. Peter Sotos is not writing for you or for me. Never forget that. Any meaning you take from Sotos’ words may have nothing to do with his intentions as he wrote the book. He’s not trying to relate to us. His psychodramas are his own. They are so deeply personal and unintended for purgation of others that it’s very interesting to me the extreme reactions his writing creates, especially in those who find themselves angry at what they consider Sotos’ wickedness.
That having been said, no matter how incidental any connection I have to this book may be, this book was a great emotional purge for me. Even in the extremity of another person’s psychodrama I found little pieces of my own experiences, most of them unpleasant. Clearly something in me is perverse enough to enjoy being poked psychically. It’s a useful pain, I think.
This is a very long discussion. You can read the rest of it here: http://ireadoddbooks.com/tool-by-peter-sotos/ show less
Of course we all know that I read upsetting books because I like being upset (or sickened or awakened or whatever happens to me when I read really difficult content). But even within that paradigm I take a beating when I read Sotos. Without engaging in too much self-analysis, I can only assume that at the end it was a beating I needed or truly wanted in some way. This is why I read Sotos. Because on some level we have similar thoughts – a book like this could only be devastating to a person who has already been down this road. To the unaffected reader, it might just come off as vulgarity or pointless obscenity. Despite being trained to analyze literature in an academic manner, I prefer to react in an emotional manner to the books I read. I don’t really care about the schools of thought and the tradition of transgression that many attempt to apply to Sotos’ work. When I read him I care only about my reaction, how he pokes at my own obsessions, how he knows so much more than anyone else about the will to harm and the will to survive harm.
I don’t know how this fact had not jumped out at me before, but in every book, keeping in mind every little bit of genuine autobiographical data he gives, Peter Sotos is playing different roles and channeling different people. He is exploring humanity by speculating about the worst things that go through the minds of the worst people. Because he is taking on the roles of other people, Sotos, in a very real sense, is engaging in psychodrama. And that is why I am so wrung out at the end of each book he writes. His psychodrama speaks to my own worries, neuroses, experiences and fears.
This is purely incidental. Peter Sotos is not writing for you or for me. Never forget that. Any meaning you take from Sotos’ words may have nothing to do with his intentions as he wrote the book. He’s not trying to relate to us. His psychodramas are his own. They are so deeply personal and unintended for purgation of others that it’s very interesting to me the extreme reactions his writing creates, especially in those who find themselves angry at what they consider Sotos’ wickedness.
That having been said, no matter how incidental any connection I have to this book may be, this book was a great emotional purge for me. Even in the extremity of another person’s psychodrama I found little pieces of my own experiences, most of them unpleasant. Clearly something in me is perverse enough to enjoy being poked psychically. It’s a useful pain, I think.
This is a very long discussion. You can read the rest of it here: http://ireadoddbooks.com/tool-by-peter-sotos/ show less
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