Stars and Other Monsters review

Title: Stars and Other Monsters

Author: Phronk

Publisher: Forest City Pulp

Release: (paperback and digital) Friday, 13 June, 2014

Official: fuckvampires.com
 

Available now at Amazon.

Let me say off the start that I despise vampire stories. I’ve enjoyed, perhaps, three of them over the years (Dracula, Salem’s Lot, Children of The Night), and been disappointed innumerable times. There is one thing worse than vampire stories, however, and that’s light-hearted and comical vampire stories. Stars and Other Monsters by Phronk is a light-hearted and comical vampire story. And, somehow, against all odds, I thoroughly enjoyed every page of it.

The story involves a wicked and slimy creature that prowls the night, seeking out unwitting victims. Is it necessarily evil, though? After all, it is merely trying to survive. It must surreptitiously stalk its prey, track it down, and take its picture so it can sell the photos to magazines — and then he meets a vampire. The reader is left to ponder if one is worse than the other: if they’re both degenerate parasites, or simply misunderstood by humans. Maybe they have more in common than either would have imagined, and maybe they are both more human than we think.

The vampire solicits the aid of the photographer (and his little dog, too) in her quest to find a film star with whom she’s become rather smitten. The photog decides to assist her, as not doing so would result in his gruesome death, and together they embark upon a journey up through the Western U.S. and Canada in search of her hunky obsession. The trials they encounter along the way are one thing; what they find at the climax of their adventure is quite another.

"Stars" never lets up. It steams ahead like a locomotive hell-bent on arriving straight to its destination, then switches tracks when you least expect it, resulting in a wickedly entertaining and surprising trip.

I was pleasantly surprised with this novel from start to finish. The sweet charm and morbidity, the grotesquerie and the laugh-out-loud surprises, they all mesh expertly to provide a thoroughly satisfying read. At no point does it drag, and it refuses to conform to conventions even while maintaining a comfortable literary familiarity, mostly. That's no small feat for any author.

If you enjoy vampire stories, you’ll love Stars and Other Monsters. If you hate vampire stories, you’ll still love it. Highly recommended. Also, the book jacket has laurel leaves on it, so you know it must be good.

It's The End Of The World But Everything's Cool

There’s Something In The Fridge. And It’s Cold...

Will the Technological Singularity lead us to an Amana Nirvana? Or perhaps some place we Frigidaire not think about?

As is befitting a concerned citizen of this planet, Mark A. Rayner has opportunistically and shamelessly jumped on the “Singularity” bandwagon and incorporated the topical subject into his new novel, Fridgularity.

If you’re familiar with his previous works, such as The Amadeus Net and Marvellous Hairy, or his collection of short bits, Pirate Therapy and Other Cures, well, then you already know Rayner’s a bit of a nutcase. A nutcase, however, with a wickedly funny imagination, a proven talent for telling unique stories well, and, most importantly, an enduring charm of extraordinary proportions.

You’ll be pleased to discover these elements of his previous writing haven’t forsaken him this time around, nor has his characteristic covert solemnity; it resides, as always, quietly beneath the silly surface, warming the reader’s heart and provoking thought. Like a Dr. Seuss for big people.

The baddie in Fridgularity, the “prophet” Sona, is a gamer hell-bent, so to speak, on leading a revolt against an emerging technological “god”, even if it means sacrificing his lame, virginal existence in the process; it’s a price he’s willing to pay.

His counterpart, Blake, is the sole representative for the digital consciousness, which has manifested in Blake’s web-enabled fridge (hey, it could happen). It seems to be the Internet, forming itself into a sentient being, learning as it grows - and considering the benefits of annihilating the seemingly hopeless species known as Man.

Its first act is to restrict human access to the ‘net, which has, understandably, dire consequences for daily living. As societies begins to collapse around the globe, Blake must balance a fine line between his computer and human instructors, and his own sense of duty and morality, to try to make everything cool again. He may even have an ethereal assistant of sorts, whether he’s aware of it or not.

Fridgularity is a wonderfully wacky must-read for anyone who has concerns about Accelerating Artificial Intelligence, religious zealots in monkey suits, portly pirates, and the true nature of spirituality as it may exist within us and throughout the universe. Anyone who manages to stitch, seamlessly, all these elements into one finely-tuned novel, is worth reading for the sheer awe of the experience. The poignant underlying message is just gravy.

You can find Fridgularity, along with Rayner’s other works, at Amazon or markarayner.com

Urban Nation: Why We Need To Give Power Back To The Cities To Make Canada Strong

 Alan Broadbent (Harper Collins 2008)

According to Alan Broadbent, the economic engines that fuel Canada are being throttled. These engines are our largest cities. The country as a whole, he contends, is suffering, and will continue to do so unless much more power and resources are handed over to these municipalities by the federal government.

Broadbent, an entrepreneur and philanthropist, as well as Chairman and CEO of Avana Capital Corporation, is personally dedicated to this movement, lays out a compelling case to make it happen, and explains succinctly and passionately why it ought to.

The early chapters offer a wonderful account of Canadian history from the fur trade to the eventual and inevitable rise of our great cities. These chapters alone would make for a compelling and scholarly book, but they’re merely the preamble to his ultimate, convincing argument.

One key point to further his case, is the issue of immigration. Most immigrants settle in Toronto, Montreal, or Vancouver, as it is here they are most likely to find family, friends, suitable services in their mother language, and employment opportunities. They are more often than not, industrious and eager to contribute to the country that gave them and their families a chance at a better life.

“We can choose to hobble people who come to Canada, or empower them. If we do the former, we’ll pay a price down the road. If we do the latter, we’ll reap benefits.” When we attempt to manage immigration as a problem, we fail. When we see immigrants as assets and treat them accordingly, we all win.

Besides immigration, we have spent considerable effort doing the opposite of better enabling our cities, and therefore diminishing our overall strength. Massive downloading of responsibilities from the federal government to the provinces began in earnest under Prime Minister Jean Cretien. The responsibilities were handed over, but not the resources to pay for them. In turn, the provinces, BC and Ontario in particular, simply passed the buck and passed responsibilities (again without adequate resources) down to municipalities. Mike Harris, Premier of Ontario at the time, “seemed to embrace the practice with some relish, and no slight malice”.

Harris dismissed the mayor and council of Toronto, along with those of Scarborough, York, North York, East York, and Etobicoke, and created the new city of Toronto. Citizens were outraged. A referendum was organized; voters turned out en masse and rejected Harris’s amalgamation. It was flippantly ignored. Thus, the city was throttled with ever-increasing duties and responsibilities, and less ability to deal with them. The largest and most powerful economic engine in the country had been soundly shackled.

Broadbent proposes, in part, implementing the following strategies to help fuel Canada for the new century: Enhance the democratic process, rather than have politicians pretend to listen once every few years at election time, and then proceed with their pre-planned agenda regardless of citizen concerns.

Understand the importance of the three major municipalities (Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver) and equip them with the resources they need to get the job done. That is, working to make the cities more viable on the world stage, thereby benefitting the country as a whole.

Another important change we need is to have truly proportionally government representation, to ensure the major cities get the even break required to build and maintain infrastructure in order to fairly compete. Further, allow Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver to act as city-states, comparative in political power to the current provinces (Broadbent refers to this as “liberating” them).

He contends Vancouver would then become the undisputed leader of Cascadia – the region from central California to Alaska. It would then be able to be more aggressive in dominating trade throughout the Pacific Rim. Montreal, he admits, will never again be the financial capital it once was, but could “once again assert its cosmopolitan, world-city ways, and begin to regain its old importance commercially, socially, and culturally”.

For Toronto’s part, to finally be able to focus on its strengths without federal or provincial restraint, research and development and financial services ( among others) would catapult it into a globally-important and successful city.

Once these cities were allowed to grow and compete without inhibition, the rewards would be more than enough to subsidize smaller communities in the country through federal tax plans.

Of course, utopias have a funny way of never achieving their glorious potential, but with intelligent careful planning by passionate and sincere architects such as Broadbent and colleagues, this is an idea that should be seriously considered, for the betterment of all Canada.

Upchuck Palahniuk

Haunted: A Novel 

Chuck Palahniuk (Doubleday 2005)

Chuck Palahniuk’s Haunted may very well be the most appalling novel you will ever read, and you’ll guiltily savour every deplorable chapter. Or you will throw it away in utter disgust before making it through “Guts,” the first individual story contained within its covers. You will not, however, find it forgettable, no matter how desperately you may wish to do so.

The novel consists of some twenty such stories (many of which had previously appeared in magazines such as Playboy,) bound together by a bizarre plot which grows increasingly more bizarre as events unfold. The individual stories are told by a slew of different characters who have been enticed by a mysterious host to participate in a writers’ retreat at an abandoned theatre. They are told they must write an original story within 12 weeks before they are allowed to leave.

The doors are locked, the keys hidden, the atmosphere set. Let the horror commence.

The story is narrated by one of the writers in the group, though it is never clear which one. Each chapter is divided into three sections: a little background on a character, a short poem by, or about, that character, and then his or her autobiographical contribution to the “workshop.”

We discover in time that each character has some great moral shortcoming, or, at least, an embarrassing secret (shades of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None.) It becomes apparent to them that their host has some shocking tactics designed to force them to write, but rather than attempt to escape their plight, they instead decide to embrace the situation.

As they imagine and discuss the glory that will be bestowed upon them if they happen to survive the retreat, their behaviours become increasingly erratic, their methods radical to the point of macabre absurdity. Realizing that anything less than an astoundingly horrific experience will only dampen their post-retreat prestige, they commence employing measures to prevent such a horrid publicity failure. Shocking, brutal measures. Because if a rival writer has a more dire experience, a more disturbing and terrible tale to share than they do, then the spotlight will be redirected accordingly when the nightmare is finally over. Thus begins an unscrupulous, perverted race for one-upmanship.

Combined with the classic Agatha Christie vibe, are elements of Peter Straub’s Ghost Story, the legends of Percy and Mary Shelley with Lord Byron at Villa Dorati (events referenced in Haunted by Mrs. Clark, a central character,) as well as the reality television series Big Brother.

As readers have come to expect from Palahniuk (Fight Club, Choke) his masterful prose, shocking juxtapositions, and biting wit are very much present here. He once again charges unapologetically through the barriers of common decency and good taste to create a blatantly sharp satire of contemporary American life, this time focusing on the desire to achieve recognition and fame at any cost.

Similar to the work of his contemporary, Jonathan Lethem (Amnesia Moon, Motherless Brooklyn,) Palahniuk’s style is rich and flows with brilliant and colourful metaphor throughout. Some paragraphs can be read and reread for the sheer appreciation of his beautiful manipulation of language, even when the subject matter is repulsive and shocking. Rather than being jarring, this aspect of his writing allows the reader to encompass beauty and horror simultaneously, creating such a glorious bi-polar effect, that the reader leaves feeling both assaulted and satiated.

It should be noted, though, that public readings of the story “Guts”, often result in the fainting of audience members. Palahniuk explains: “”The first time I read “Guts,” nobody fainted. My goal was just to write some new form of horror story, something based on the ordinary world. Without supernatural monsters or magic. This would be a book you wouldn’t want to keep next to your bed. A book that would be a trapdoor down into some place dark. A place only you could go, alone, when you opened the cover. Because only books have that power.”

He succeeded. If you have a low tolerance for the grotesque, it may be advisable to avoid this book. However, if you’re adventurous enough to brave the ride, you may find that the pleasure ultimately derived, will supersede the queasiness felt along the way.

Simply Fabulist!

Marvellous Hairy: A Novel In Five Fractals 

Mark A. Rayner  (Crossing Chaos Enigmatic Ink 2009)

I was somewhat hoping I wouldn’t enjoy this book so that I could entitle the review Marvellous? Hardly! but, alas, it turned out to be a very enjoyable romp through the madcappery of an all too familiar fictitious setting, so, much to my chagrin, I had to think up a whole new review title. Thank you, Mark A. Rayner, for robbing me of that pithy idea. It was going to be really clever.

As most of us have, from time to time, you’ve likely asked yourself the question: What would happen if Carl Hiassen, William Shakespeare, and Kurt Vonnegut got together for a little mead ‘n snuff party, and a story idea emerged from their wondrous and thoroughly pickled collective minds? Well, I’m delighted to let you know that we can now move on to other such ponderables, as Mr. Rayner has provided the answer to that age old question with his new novel Marvellous Hairy.

Rayner opens his story with such an insane commotion that you immediately (and wisely) pause for a moment to fasten your mental seatbelt, steadfast in the knowledge that, for better or worse, you’ve just accepted a ride from a deranged driver –  and one who is likely under the influence of more than one illicit substance. I felt it was a quite considerate gesture to let us prepare ourselves up front in this manner, before we hit the freeway in high gear. Respect.

Hairy is narrated in first person quasi-omniscient style (yes, you read that correctly) by the central character — a mostly normal sort of chap named Rob (that is, more normal than his eclectic group of friends and dubious associates). Rob’s ability to ubiquitously relate the story is explained within the pages, and I found this approach to be not only clever and unique but completely reasonable in an unreasonable sort of way.

The story involves, on one level, a bizarre allegorical battle between the separate reptilian, simian, and human parts of the Triune brain, and how we must somehow cope and flourish, not just within our own consciousness but within society as well, while all 3 types are in control of our thoughts and actions at different times, at different levels, and in different circumstances.

It’s also quite a traditional (I really didn’t expect to be using that word in this review) tale of megalomania, the dangers of rampant, unchecked science, the bonds of love and friendship, monkey sex, and the nature of military cacti.

I think that my being any more specific may do the reader a disservice so I’ll leave it there – suffice it to say that Rayner proves to be a masterful story weaver with a gifted imagination and a remarkable wit. If that’s not enough, a deep social conscience lies beneath it all. Those qualities combined provide for an exciting, hilarious and ultimately fulfilling reading experience. Just don’t forget to fasten your seatbelt.

You’ve been warned.

Marvellous Hairy is Rayner’s second novel. The Amadeus Net, his first, is also a captivating read. Both can be found on Amazon and Rayner’s personal website.

Maybe Not Quite "Super"...

Super Sad True Love Story 

Gary Shteyngart (Random House 2010)

I know. Horrid book jacket design.  It’s like some dusty, smelly thing from 1972 that you would find in the attic, perhaps the fiction-riddled memoirs of some long-forgotten starlet crying out to be remembered. Take the jacket off and throw it away, for what lies within is a wonderful novel. Clever, absorbing, prophetic, hilarious and poignant.

“I am never going to die. Never, never, never, never. And you can go to hell for doubting me.”

These words are enthusiastically and defiantly entered into the journal of one Lenny Abramov at the start of Super Sad True Love Story, and he means them. He has every intention of fulfilling this dream, with the aid of the life-extending company he works for. It is a dream that has enchanted mankind likely from the very moment after self-awareness came into being. It’s why we love vampires, and often blindly embrace the concept of eternal life after we have shuffled off this mortal coil, despite all logical doubts to the contrary.

As universal as the inherent yearning for immortality resides within us is, however, the following question must eventually arise:  Why do you think you would be happier if you could live forever? The immediate response is likely that it’s a no-brainer, but if contemplated seriously for just a few moments, the simple obvious answer slowly begins to recede and become hazy.

Lenny, a likable schmuck, is insulted and degraded often throughout the story, once being told vehemently that “Mediocrities like you deserve to live forever!”  Could being sentenced to eternal life actually be a fate worse than death? Woody Allen once proclaimed that he doesn’t wish to achieve immortality through his work, that he wants to achieve immortality through not dying. Be careful what you wish for, Woody. Maybe you hadn’t considered the possibility quite as deeply as such a profound desire warrants.

The questioning of immortality’s ultimate logic hums along as background noise throughout Super Sad, forever present but deep enough that the reader isn’t always conscious of it. Certainly, it’s not a concern to Lenny. He’s approaching middle age and feels like a failure. He sees youth and beauty at every turn, mocking his thinning greying hair, slumping shoulders and deepening awareness of his own eventual demise. By the time he learns he has the opportunity to live indefinitely, no such worries about the consequences enter his mind.

The story is set in the Manhattan of a world that has progressed, for lack of a better word, a decade or two beyond our current one, after having followed a path that seems entirely possible, if not probable, based on our current course. A political party known as the Bipartisans are at the helm of the US government, and that may be the most outlandish of all the predictions.

Much more reasonable assumptions include the war with Venezuela, the Chinese domination of American currency and therefore America, and the public display of everyone’s most personal details at the fingertips of everyone else via their äppäräti (handheld devices that will tell you, based on facial recognition, everything from a neighbour’s cholesterol level to her fuckability rating).  Lenny is a neo-Luddite to a certain degree. He prefers reading books than spending time with his äppärät, a hobby that is looked down upon in his world. The fact that his own fuckability rating is far below average may contribute to that. Of the äppärät, he decries that it knows “every last stinking detail about the world, whereas my books only know the minds of their authors.”

These near-future predictions all seem disturbingly realistic, yet none are presented with a heavy hand. Nothing in Super Sad is. It is a viciously funny book. Shteyngart has a wicked wit and his unease with the future we face is presented with biting satire. He also happens to have the ability to form his thoughts, his sentences and paragraphs, into beautiful, flowing  passages that could be read for the sheer love of language, even if they didn’t connect to build an interesting story. The fact that they do is merely icing on the cake.

We also become familiar with soon-to-merge mega-corporations such as  ColgatePalmoliveYum!BrandsViacom, and new texting acronyms like JBF (just butt-fucking) instead of the old familiar ‘jk’. Everything about Shteyngart’s vision is familiar, which helps to make it all so eerily plausible. Most of the characters reside in this world with the nonchalance of kids today who don’t recall a time without internet or cell phones. Lenny is different.

Lenny is more old fashioned, and he’s not an original character. We’ve met him many times. He is Willy Loman. He is Winston Smith. He is Rick Blaine, Terry Malloy, a dozen hapless Jerry Lewis characters and Ernest Borgnine’s Marty. He’s every man who has felt the bitter loneliness of unrequited love, who is an ordinary man forced to endure the trials of an unjust world, who yearns to not go gently into that good night, yet lives a life of quiet desperation. Lenny is us. We can live vicariously through him, and cheer him on as he fights to avoid going to the grave, whether the song is still in him or not.

He falls in love with a young woman, possibly more in love with the ‘young’ than the ‘woman.’ She’s fifteen years his junior. He feels she is out of his league, and she agrees.  She is upfront about her lack of love for him, yet her occasional tenderness gives him hope that he can change that. He is determined to make her love him whether she wants to or not. She teaches him to not be so much of a nerd while he strives to become her source of strength, her rock, or perhaps something softer. He writes in his journal:

“I relished the opportunity to observe her behind, which sat humbly, almost unnecessarily, atop two sturdy legs. I wondered how she could survive in the world without an ass. Everyone needs a cushion. Perhaps I could be that for her.”

Super Sad is the account of that unlikely-to-succeed love affair amid a broken America, and a place where if love is not eternal, at least existence might be.

I greatly look forward to reading Shteyngart’s next effort, but only if the publisher hires a new jacket artist. LOL, JBF.

Final Days?

The Last Economic Superpower:

The Retreat of Globalization, The End of American Dominance,

and What We Can Do About It

Joseph P. Quinlan (McGraw-Hill, 2010)

To attempt to explain the current global financial situation in 250 pages would be an impossible feat. There are just far too many factors, each requiring a thousand pages of cross-referenced footnotes. Yet in The Last Economic Superpower: The Retreat of Globalization, The End of American Dominance, And What We Can Do About It, author Joseph P. Quinlan not only gives it a shot, but also throws in a history of how we came to be where we are now, and how to ride out the waves into the future.

The sheer magnitude of material and knowledge needed to aptly encompass all this, would require a year-long college course at least, so it should come as no surprise that Quinlan’s account comes often across as rudimentary at best, and seemingly naive at worst.

But I’m sure he knew when he undertook the monumental task, that result would be inevitable to a certain degree. The reader must understand at the onset that the author (if for no other reasons than to satisfy his publisher and save a few forests) had to do a lot of skimming and generalizing in order to make his ultimate point in a reasonable amount of space.

So with that grain of salt taken, does Quinlan manage to encapsulate the general concept of the world’s financial state? Mostly. It’s a valiant effort and he is academically and professionally qualified to assert his opinions. He teaches at New York and Fordham Universities, and is Managing Director for US Trust, Bank of America Private Wealth Management.

However, I’m not so certain that such credits, or any credits, qualify an individual to accurately predict the financial future. Not just Quinlan, but the term “financial forecaster” seems almost oxymoronic in that those who know capitalism and economics inside out are often plagued with tunnel vision so myopic that they are unable to fathom the human aspects that constantly throw wrenches into their logical machines. 

Not just human compassion, but the other end of the spectrum as well: human greed and manipulation of any processes that are enacted. A healthy dose of chaos theory needs to be calculated into the mix before any conclusions can be reasonably arrived at. Not only do unpredictable human elements need to be predicted, but human needs, other than money, need to be taken into consideration as well.

If one tackles the issue from the perspective that America cannot be a successful nation without dominating the world, and that the very word “success” is considered synonymous with monetary wealth and dominance, then your results can not be anything other than skewed. That myth of Western thinking is a hindrance rather than a help to the personal happiness of its citizens, at least when looking forward. With all that in mind, if a couple of centuries of professional economic forecasting has led us to the fragile state of today, then why would we place any credence in the advice of contemporary prognosticators and strategists?

But I digress. Given all that, including my own aversions and suspicions, The Last Economic Superpower does manage to be an interesting and informative read, offering insight, at least, into how we arrived at our current place economic situation, domestically and throughout the continents.

Quinlan talks about the “golden era” of the fifties and sixties when Detroit was the envy of the world, before OPEC flexed its substantial muscle. The rise of European and Asian countries since then, up to today’s perceived threat from China and India, are all circumstances that have left America in a very unfamiliar and tenuous position. He also wisely looks south toward Venezuela and the rising concerns from that direction as well. All of this is true, of course, but any plans that are embarked upon to negate these threats simply cannot come to fruition. Not in the twenty-first century. The rules have simply changed.

The suggestion by Quinlan that America, and everyone else, strives instead for cooperation for the global good, is likely the best that can be done – but with the assumption that everyone else will be planning a cut-throat self-interest maneuver while smiling and shaking your hand. Such is the nature of capitalism. Such is the nature of man.

If it isn’t too fatalistic, I would suggest America comes to terms with the fact that it is no longer king of the castle. It’s someone else’s turn to lead the parade now. China, India and Venezuela will not be bullied back into the shadows now that they have had a moment in the sun. America’s challenge is not how to keep them down, but how to work with them as the power structure shifts. The prudent way for America to seek the most economically (and politically) stable future for its citizens is to move with the shift, rather than push against it, and that will require an entirely new mindset. Whether or not that is possible remains to be seen, and it will certainly involve some severe growing pains, but once it’s understood that no alternate plan is feasible, maybe it is possible.

I must admit I was surprised and impressed that Quinlan argued in favour of being reasonable and accepting of change for a brighter future. He also lays out his book in a concise, fluent and organized fashion, making it easier for the reader to comprehend the enormity and complexity of the issues and challenges he discusses.

I don’t think I would go as far as calling The Last Economic Superpower a must read, but it is a well thought-out and interesting look into our recent past, present, and near future from an economic perspective. And that makes it a worthwhile read.

Amadeus Rocked Me

The Amadeus Net

Mark A. Rayner (ENC PRESS, 2005)

I sensed there was some element of The Odyssey beneath the surface of The Amadeus Net– or maybe The Iliad. I’m not well versed in Homer, but the backgrounds of a few Amadeus characters evoke those classic Greek myths. Regardless of whether I imagined that influence, Amadeus is a fantastic story told very well. The time and labour author Mark Rayner put into creating the characters within these pages is quickly apparent, and their eclectic richness pays off handsomely as the reader becomes deeply concerned with their individual and collective fates.

The story itself concerns Mozart (yes, that Mozart) who, in this fictional world, has a peculiar habit of not dying. As a result, he’s alive and well in the near future, living on an isolated (though thriving) South Pacific island named Ipolis. His identity is, as you would expect, a long kept secret, and he would prefer it remained so. However, some are aware of his gift and view it as a grand opportunity for their own enrichment, and from there the trouble commences.

The story is simultaneously light, deep, silly and poignant. In the hands of a lesser author, an attempt like this could very well become a dispassionate dog’s breakfast. But in Rayner’s deft hands and mind, it leads the reader deep into the city which serves as the setting (and the city itself is actually a character in its own right!), and into the minds, hearts and souls of the characters. It seems a great many novels I read aren’t able to focus on creating more than a couple of full, rich characters surrounded by cardboard plot devices. Not so with Amadeus, and there within, I believe, lies the book’s greatest strength.

These well-constructed characters each become integral to the story’s grand climax, all the while faced with the somber specter of global destruction. Personally, I found myself concerned with the fates of his characters more than the actual planet, and for that I blame Rayner for making me care about them so deeply.

As mentioned, the city itself is in the mix as one of the main characters, observing and occasionally manipulating events, using subtle and not-so-subtle methods to help create a harmonious outcome. Ipolis provides a big-picture perspective that the human characters cannot. It comes across like a Shakespearian muse or benevolent god, though not a fully omnipotent one that could assure its own wishes will come to fruition. It’s very nearly mortal in this regard, thus allowing the reader to sympathize with its plight and feel concern for its frustrations and even its “being.”

If a parallel can be drawn with another Rayner book I have read (and reviewed), Marvellous Hairy, I think it would be that beneath the hectic, comedic surface is a solemn message about man’s inhumanity to man and the horrific results that can occur when callous (or zealously misguided) beings are left to run rampant and hold the rest of mankind at their twisted mercy.

But Amadeus is a thoroughly different book than Hairy (though no less compelling) and this illustrates Rayner’s ability to create completely different yet believable worlds from one novel to the next. Some may take comfort in continuity of tone in an author’s collective works; I tend to admire an author more when he can show me radically different places, persons, and depths. That’s not to say Rayner’s style doesn’t remain consistent; it certainly does.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and highly recommend it to anyone seeking a fresh and talented author who unabashedly departs from traditional storytelling for more experimental prose, much to the delight and satisfaction of his audience. Congratulations, Mr. Rayner; besides creating another very enjoyable novel, you’ve created a genuine fan in me.