Book Review: Son of a Bitch

Son of a BitchSon of a Bitch by Wrath James White and Andre Duza

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Aw, who’s a cute wittle puppy? Who’s a coot wittew puppy? Who’s a…AH! AH! AH!

Son of a Bitch is a collaborative work by Andre Duza and Wrath James White and recently published by Deadite Press, the horror imprint of Eraserhead Press. The story is simple: A creature who is part demon and part dog is born and wreaks havoc, particularly after it is possessed by the soul of a hitman. The book is bloody and gory, nearly to excess, but it is a horror novel, so as long as don’t mind huge amounts of blood, guts, and violence in the book’s short run, you’ll know what you’re getting.

The characters are well-developed, or at least as well developed as you can expect with such a short novel, so they’re developed about as much as they need to be. We learn what we need to know during the course of the book, including the basic personalities, the motivations, etc. The characters are simple in this regard, but not unbelievable, especially given the short time we’re given to know them, kind of like meeting someone at a party and you get to know them but not in any deep sense. The story is sound, even if it follows a very typical structure, with plot points placed at almost exactly the right spots. It works, even if it would have been nice to have a little more innovation.

The overall feel of the book is hard to describe, which is part of the problem. While officially a horror novel, something I don’t dispute, it has more of an “Evil Dead” feel where it’s tempered by a dark humor. Therein lies the central problem with this novel. It takes a little too much of an “Evil Dead” approach, and not always successfully. This requires some explanation.

When mixing humor into any genre other than a comic novel, but especially in a horror novel, the jokes can get taken in one of three ways. The first is that the audience gets the joke and laughs with you at the right time. This happens a few times in this novel, so kudos to the authors there.

The second is when the joke goes over the audience’s head. They simply don’t get it and only a few audience member will get the joke. Not an ideal situation, but not exactly the end of the world. The story simply moves on without acknowledgment of the attempted humor.

The third way a joke can be taken is one that should be avoided at all costs. This is when the audience gets the joke, or the attempt at a joke, but doesn’t find it funny. In stand-up comedy, this would be the typical “groaner” or even a “boo.” This only works if completely intentional and followed by a joke that acknowledges how bad the last one was.

Unfortunately, in literature, you don’t usually get such a followup as it’s generally ineffective. And sadly, there’s a few times this happens in Son of a Bitch. In a few places, the reader realizes that the situation is absurd or there’s an attempt at a joke, but it falls flat, mostly with the juxtaposition of the serious and violent situation the characters find themselves in. While I can respect the heavy risk the authors took with this approach, I also can’t ignore when they missed the mark.

The reader should also be warned that the book has a heavily “urban” feel to it (you probably know what I mean, but if you don’t, I’m referring to racial stereotypes). If you’re uncomfortable with racial epithets or references, this book is probably not going to sit well with you, even if you’ve got a generalized sense of humor, and I point this out because of certain sensitivities that I’ve witnessed in society. I, for one, didn’t mind and felt that it added character to the novel while at the same time acknowledging those stereotypes and ridiculing them in the process. The dialogue itself is a bit striking, but you get used to it. Like “Pulp Fiction,” it’s mostly reminding us that this book is not about nice people. Pretty much every character is not someone you would want to have anything to do with in real life, from Demetrius, the dog breeder who breeds dogs mostly for fighting, or the hitman Warlock. Whether this book actually makes you like the bad guys is questionable as they really aren’t likable and Demetrius is only barely redeemable. But in this context, they have a strange way of working. Up to a point.

Son of a Bitch is not going to be for everyone, but what it does, it generally does well. At the same time, it misses the mark a few times with the humor enough to border on an identity crisis, whether it should be funny or a horror novel, or if the jokes are simply in poor taste. The characters are developed mostly for the purposes of the story, but anything outside the context of the story tends to be lost and remain mostly unacknowledged.

Son of a Bitch by Andre Duza and Wrath James White earns 3 cuddly attack puppies out of 5.

Book Review: Penetralia

PenetraliaPenetralia by Jordan Krall

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Okay, we need to get one thing out of the way: The title of this book, Penetralia, is not actually as dirty as it sounds. The definition is:

1. the innermost parts or recesses of a place or thing.

2. the most private or secret things.

Okay, so you can get your mind out of the gutter.

Okay, now put your mind right back in that gutter.

Penetralia by Jordan Krall is a hard book to get your head around. You’re constantly slapped around by images of physical and sexual violence, and yet there’s a constant promise that there’s going to be a grand revelation of wisdom through these actions. The story follows a family who is seeking through violent experiments on unwilling subjects/victims for an ultimate Wisdom as prescribed through ancient texts. The grown-up brother and sister, Philip and Elizabeth, are conducting these experiments on their own in their father’s absence, who dresses in a plague doctor costume and is away for unknown reasons but will be returning soon.

Right away, you will realize that it takes a strong stomach to get through Penetralia. Krall has never shied away from gross and violent gross imagery before. In some books, like Squid Pulp Blues for example, he seemed have a strange obsession with characters releasing their bowels at inopportune times. In Penetralia, Krall has kicked it up more than a couple of notches. Almost from the get go, you’re shown that this is a very incestuous family, and that some of the experiments performed on their subjects/victims to reveal the ultimate Wisdom involve extraction and consumption of numerous bodily fluids and substances. Seriously, do not read this right after you’ve eaten. I have a cast-iron stomach, and even I felt a little queasy after one of the early scenes where Philip consumes one of their subject’s vomit.

If you can get past this (or even if these parts were cut out or rewritten), it’s not so much a story about torture, murder, and incest, but becomes a story of an extremely dysfunctional family that suffered continual and extreme abuse at the hands of their patriarch. While Philip resents his father for the abuse with every fiber of his being, he still does everything he can to continue his father’s work knowing full well that he will never earn his father’s approval. Elizabeth, on the other hand, has a case of Stockholm syndrome, loving her father deeply even for or because of the abuse she has suffered, despite knowing in the back of her mind that what she has suffered through was horrible and violent.

This made the book very frustrating. Krall is a great writer, and the prose is brilliant throughout, clean (not counting the gross imagery), and quick to read, even with making you stop to reread something or think about a particular scene carefully. But the imagery felt unnecessary to what would have been a fascinating story, and even distracted from it. The disturbing images felt like they were put in for sheer shock value. In that respect, they do their job well. But the story underneath it is actually very interesting. The story of a dysfunctional family who finally come to terms with the abuse they’ve suffered and confronting their abuser is actually quite engaging, but it becomes buried in the shock scenes so heavily that it’s difficult to see. You practically get two separate books, one for shock value and one for a heartbreaking story, but the two don’t mesh well and are constantly fighting for your attention.

Overall, Penetralia has some great writing, a potentially powerful story, and vivid if disturbing imagery. I know that Krall has recently moved away from writing bizarro fiction, and Penetralia may have been his swan song in the genre. It’s certainly a strong and powerful way to bow out, but it was a little too extreme for my tastes. I sort of wish he had bowed out sooner and written Penetralia with more focus on the story than the imagery, which based on his False Magic Kingdom series he can clearly do. Don’t get me wrong. Krall has a real talent for descriptive imagery and storytelling, but in Penetralia, those to forces seem to be at war with each other rather than support each other, making it confusing and not my particular cup of tea.

Penetralia by Jordan Krall earns 3 plague outfits out of 5.

Why I Review Books

ThumbnailI’ve been reviewing a lot of books on this blog lately. The question comes up about why I review these books. Do I get paid or what? Well, let me tell you how it started.

I started this blog a little while ago just to have a place that I could write in long form, have a bit of a soapbox, and to publicly talk about what I was working on or what was going on. I’m still working on my writing. Actually, lately, I’m picking up the pace, although the novel I have been working on has taken a bit of a back-burner right now while I try to develop my skills a little more. It’s a project that’s really important to me and I want to be sure that I can do it justice. Being able to publicly talk about it creates a feeling of accountability. Admittedly, it does help with marketing if you know how to leverage it, which is something I’m working on. So, it’s not entirely for art’s sake.

I started reviewing books on this blog mostly because I needed content. It was very early in my blog’s life and I need to add content. At the time, things had kind of come to standstill with…well, everything. So I started putting my name on lists for review copies of books in several locations and began receiving some. The caveat with getting these is that they want you to provide them with a review, which is only fair. They give you a free book, you pay them with an honest review. I started putting these reviews on this blog and there you have it. It just became a thing.

I enjoy doing it because, aside from writing, I also enjoy reading. By reviewing these books, not only do I get to share my opinions and potentially help some authors, particularly new authors, but I get to reflect on what I just read and chew it over a little more, making sure I really understood it and got the most out of it. Do I get paid for it or do I want to get paid? Well, I don’t really get paid (with the Bizarro Brigade, I earn points toward receiving a free book, but that’s it). As for whether would I like to be paid, sure. Everyone would like to be paid for just about everything they do. I’d like to get paid for breathing, but that’s probably not going to happen. But if I were to ever get hired by a website or other publication to write reviews, I wouldn’t object. And I’m hoping that when I do start publishing my work (soon, I hope, once I get what I’m working on to a state I’m happy with), that they might return the favor of reading and providing an honest review. I can take criticism, and really I prefer honesty over anything else.

I did get myself into a situation a little while ago where I wound up receiving so many review copies that I couldn’t keep up. I’m still catching up, but I’m making a lot of headway. So if you’re a writer, editor, or publisher who needs a review and you want to send me a review copy, you’re welcome to contact me at the link above, but remember that I’m still catching up, and I’ll get to your book as soon as I can.

Book Review: Help! A Bear is Eating Me!

Help! a Bear Is Eating Me!Help! a Bear Is Eating Me! by Mykle Hansen

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Help! A bear is eating Marv Pushkin!

And, uh, that’s pretty much it. That was the easiest review I’ve ever written.

Well, okay, maybe that’s not all of it.

What happens when you have a complete narcissist stuck in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness (insert Sarah Palin joke here) underneath his SUV getting eaten by a bear? You have Help! A Bear is Eating Me! by Mykle Hansen.

It’s been said that there are three basic plots: Man vs. man, man vs. nature, and man vs. himself. While this book at first seems like it would be man vs. nature just by the title alone, it quickly becomes apparent that this plot is actually man vs. himself. This book is a character study in its purest form. It’s told in a complete stream-of-consciousness style where you read Marv’s entire thought process during the days he is trapped under his SUV being slowly eaten by a bear and waiting for rescue. He flashes back to his version of events throughout his life and how it led up to him being in this predicament. There’s nothing left out of this stream, so you’ll read everything he’s thinking, hallucinations and all.

Marv Pushkin is probably on the most unlikable characters you will ever read about, which tests the literary hypothesis that the protagonist, while flawed, always needs to be likable, or at least redeemable, to the reader. Marv has no redeeming values. He’s an ad executive, a bully, a philanderer, and completely self-centered. He thinks of himself as a gift to the universe and that through the power of positive thinking, the universe is there to serve him. As the book progresses, though, you discover that everything is not peachy-keen with Marv. He’s got some serious demons and has a history of mental illness. At times, you’re not entirely sure if what he’s describing is what’s actually happening or if it’s just happening in his head. So, while he doesn’t have a redeeming value, he does have a certain sympathetic value, and the reader come to feel sorry for him. Whether the reader roots for him to get out of the situation is up to each individual reader and how sympathetic they actually are.

The stream-of-consciousness style of writing is often something that puts off a lot of people. I’m actually drawn to it. It’s fascinating to actually get into another person head and read every thought that goes through their mind, rather than the selected thoughts that many authors choose to show for the sake of plot. Marv, however, is the plot. In a sense, he’s correct in that he is the universe, at least as it pertains to this book.

The stream-of-consciousness does get a bit choppy at times, but for the most part it flows well with a few bumps here and there. I’m not entirely sold on the ending either (which is probably not what you’re expecting), but in its own way it worked, especially given what we learn about Marv during the course of the novel.

While this book is technically classified as bizarro fiction, the most bizarre thing about it is that it’s published by Eraserhead Press. There’s really nothing that bizarre about it. So if you’re expecting a genuine bizarro book, or what you may think of when you think about bizarre fiction, you’ll probably be disappointed. If you’re looking for a genuine character study of a severely broken man who doesn’t know he’s broken, then you’ll definitely want to read this.

Help! A Bear is Eating Me! by Mykle Hansen earns a solid 4 bear cubs out of 5.

Book Review: The Emerald Burrito of Oz

The Emerald Burrito of OzThe Emerald Burrito of Oz by John Skipp and Marc Levinthal

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

From the Files of Sheldon Nylander:

I came across a publication the other day called The Emerald Burrito of Oz, put together by John Skipp and Marc Levinthal. It was an account of Gene Spielman of Los Angeles’ visit to his friend Aurora Jones, the proprietor of the Emerald Burrito which is the only Mexican restaurant in Oz, a magical world that seems to exist in parallel with our own and is the true world which L. Frank Baum based his books on. The gate exists in Salina, Kansas, but it requires special government permission to pass through. This would explain the recent influx of Munchkins working around Salina in recent years.

This world of Oz plays by its own rules, right down to the laws of science. Things don’t work the same as they do over here, especially when it comes to technology. In Oz, only the simplest of technologies work. When any man-made technology passes through the gate, the results are…unpredictable, which leads to some odd situations, especially when reading through Gene’s account written on the computer he took with him.

It becomes very easy to feel lost with this account, especially if you are only familiar with the Judy Garland movie (and to a lesser extent the much darker “Return to Oz” with Fairuza Balk; this book was originally published back in 2000, before “Oz, the Great and Powerful” was even a gleam in a studio executive’s eye). There are references to individuals and creatures that, to my knowledge, are only accounted for in the L. Frank Baum books, which I haven’t read.

The book has more violence than you might initially expect from something related to Baum’s children’s books, but then you remember that is the real life accounting of time in Oz during a civil war as they face off against someone known as the Hollow Man. When you get the real life counterparts of an axe-wielding Tin Man or the Lion, there’s going to be violence and blood.

While the book seemed interesting for what it is, I had a hard time getting into it. Admittedly, this may be because, as I mentioned above, I haven’t read Baum’s original books, so there was some sense of feeling lost in a world that I should have reviewed the map for before traveling there. The players are interesting, with Aurora being the traditional tough hero while Gene is more of a wimp, but I would have liked to learn more details about the real life counterparts of the Scarecrow or the Lion. Still, you get quite a bit of story, character, and world-building, and The Emerald Burrito of Oz is one of the longer books to fall into the bizarro genre with very little padding, so you’ll get more substance out of your reading.

The Emerald Burrito of Oz earns 3 flying monkeys out of 5.

Note: Just in case you can’t tell (and there some are some out there who might not), this review was written in character. Yes, I know it’s not real.