The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty
"I've seen The Exorcist thirteen times, and it gets funnier every time I see it!" So, famously, said Beetlejuice, and I can't argue with him as I don't think I've seen the film of William Peter Blatty's generation-defining horror classic quite that many times. But I've certainly read the book often enough to appreciate the slow descent into Hell of Regan's Mum. But neither film nor book (which came first) was entitled Regan's Mom. The identiity of the titular exorcist seems, at first glance, clear: Lenkester Merrin, a fictionalised version of the archaeologist, phenomenologist and mystic Teilhard de Chardin, who saw his Christ not only as a god-man who once walked among us, but also as a point in the future upon which all Being will converge to partake of divinity. A mystical prefigurement of the Singularity, if you want, combining Hegel's eschaton with a vision of Christianity that is all too seldom allowed to precipitate from dis...