EGREGORE

or, the Trinity of the Philtrum (2025)

"The face of a human foetus is formed by three rotating parts – one with the right eye, one with the left eye, and one with the mouth – meeting and growing together in the philtrum, resting on the cupid’s bow.

These parts represent the Trinity

Published by Infinity Land Press, London, UK
Translated from Swedish by B.J. Woodstein and John Macmillan
Photographs by Jozefien Van der Aelst and Karolina Urbaniak
Drawing by Josefin Jansson (repro by Nadja Sjöström)
Interview conducted by Martin Bladh

The timeless love story of a saint and a serial killer: Joan of Arc and Gilles de Rais must navigate the mechanics of genocide in a mystical apocalypse. EGREGORE or, the Trinity of the Philtrum, expands on the uniquely disturbing obsessions Hector Meinhof first revealed in Three Nails, Four Wounds: A journey into a winter landscape where mediaeval and contemporary visions of the last days combine, and horrifying rituals are played out for the gratification of a cruel divinity and mischievous child saints...

Outside my brain, a real war will take place. You will win, but it will be a bitter victory that changes your spirit; for there are thoughts that destroy something sacred within a person. That which you have risked your lives for and restored will no longer be yours. The price of your victory is alienation. Yes, everything is right there in front of you, your surroundings are familiar, everything as it should be; but the buildings, nature and the starry sky vibrate like a mirage – and you can’t make contact. Reality has become a memory, sealed off, out of reach, isolated in another time – and you don’t belong there. Dead to the world, you will no longer recognise yourselves. You will recognise each other, but as a collective the only thing left to share will be grief. Be happy. You have earned this. Your pain will correspond to mine.

DOPPELGÄNGER (Anthology 2021)

My childhood was curious. As the moon circles the Earth, so was my mother always present, ever prepared to remove any dangers that came my way. I was not to be exposed to direct sunlight. I was not to touch the ground. No one was allowed to meet my gaze.

Published by Infinity Land Press, London 2021.
Translated (from Swedish) by B. J. Epstein.
Edited by Steve Finbow.
Book design: Karolina Urbaniak.

The doctor listened to my veins: “The lightning in your blood is an echo of prehistoric gods – the thunder is activating your race,” he said, pleased.

I was woken by a guttural moaning. Mother was standing by my bed, holding up a new-born boy by his chubby arms. His body had two noisy red heads (twins). One was on his neck, as it should be, but the other was on his chest, with its face directed at the first one – they were staring at each other. There were long, inflamed scars stretching up from the navel towards the neck of the chest-head, as if it had been born out of the navel and then slowly moved up towards its mirror reflection. “Now you are three. The time is nearing. Father will come soon,” Mother said. 

The full moon pushed and pulled on the waters of the Earth. Nailed-up sheets of paper with animals painted on them in watercolour were pulverised into colourful clouds in front of the walls. 

THREE NAILS, FOUR WOUNDS (2018)

It was as though the area had been struck by a peculiar curse.

Strange incidents kept occurring, acts of insanity, abuse of animals,

unexplained disappearances...

Hector Meinhof has written a book that is both beautiful and cruel. His poetic prose and the doom-laden pictures from his extensive collection of vintage photographs have bled into one tortured, corporeal unity. This is the illustrated scripture for the new dark ages, it will be read and beheld again and again.

- Martin Bladh  

I rarely am eager to go right back to the beginning of a book and start reading again, immediately after finishing it. But this the case with Three Nails, Four Wounds.

- Michael Barnett (This Is Darkness Magazine)

Published by Infinity Land Press, London 2018.

Translated (from Swedish) by Marianne Griolet and John McMillan,

with an afterword by Martin Bladh.

Book design: Karolina Urbaniak.

So you medicated yourself back into your childhood room. A dark night coagulated itself around your body as memories of pointless incidents crept around inside your chest. For a long time, you stared at the graphite lines on the door-post: thin, horizontal lines that climbed higher and higher each year that went by, until your fall was sure to be lethal.

I’m reading Hector Meinhof’s book right now, and it’s excellent to say the least, so I encourage you to investigate its evidence up there and think about making it your own.

 - Dennis Cooper, author

Just as winter’s lost toys are found anew in springtime, with their colours faded, the children returned from the realm of disease. They were naked and washed with sparrows held by the claws, flapping over their bodies. After that, the wings were torn off and the children

ran out in the crisp April rain.

Copyright © Hector Meinhof 2026. All Rights Reserved.