cover
ISBN: 0575402652

I didn’t get the book.

No plot.

Like a bunch of words strung together from a random pile of phrases.

Nice prose though, if you like that sort of writing.

P17. “… Slower than a tortoise humping a hardhat.”

P 23. “Roadkill intercourse — yes, those precious obstacles are the main event in my life and it’s a form of love so obscure nobody’s ever reviled my activities or dragged me into the hay-strewn square for the purpose of flogging amid toothless hags and free-range poultry.”

p 149. “Angels fell in a storm of hail, bouncing. Heavy weapons finally. Attempting re-entry, sanity broke its nails on my braincase.

Poetic, yes.

But not a coherent novel.

Gave me the impression that it’s trying to write like (necromancer), juxtapositioning fantastic (e.g. Minotaur and demons and aliens) with reality (political campaigns, it least it seems to me).

I’d go back to this book as reference material for sheer wackiness. Or to get ideas to jolt the creative mixer a bit. But not to read from cover to cover.

Maybe some others would enjoy it. After all, “every book its reader; every reader his book.”

Advertisements