"The god settles on the table. Rose tears a piece from her toast, slathers a heap of cream cheese on the ear-sized morsel, and lays it next to the god. It consumes the tribute."
Tiny gods rule a world of women who treat them as pampered pets. The women sing and pray to their gods, hand-feed them "tributes" from their own plates, and clean up their gods' messes.
To video store assistant-manager Rose, this is all as it should be. Gods kept happy through the faithful worship of their women reward their loyal subjects with harmonious homes and--for the most faithful and blessed--children. But Rose's partner Sara is less content to accept the status quo, and Sara's questioning nature throws Rose's life into upheaval.
The Object of Worship is a subtle horror story which creeps up on the reader. It begins with a cosy breakfast ritual. Weird? Yes. But also cute and--the author would have us believe (at least for that one moment)--warm and fuzzy. Then things begin to deteriorate.
As Rose struggles to hold her familiar world together, Claude LaLumière romps fearlessly through an unforgiving exposé of the darkest corners of religion, social convention and gender roles. His depiction of pregnancy in this story punched all of my "ick" buttons, and the end result was dark, disturbing and creepy.