Customer Reviews

Slow Death (High Risk Books)

5 star:		(1)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Home tries to do a little too much here in attempting to satirize the contemporary London art scene within a what appears to be a parody of pulp fiction. The plot intertwines the trendies of the London art world with a gang of sympathetic, yet thuggish skinheads (the non-racist kind) let by Johnny Aggro. There's lots of silly art doubletalk, some asskicking of foolish people by the skins, and lots of sex. Not erotic or even pulp sex, but rather a parody of pulp sex. Everyone seems to want it--from frustrated social workers, to young schoolgirls, to the fat skinhead--and Home uses the same words to describe each act, sometimes duplicating the entire passage. In any event, Home's touch is far too heavy to pull this whole enterprise off.

Hilarious mix of art world satire and plagiarism of antique English porn and street punk fiction. Home realises that the leading characteristic of pulp fiction is repetition, and he just perfects the method, with highly amusing results. The book is populated with fictional versions of some of Home's own 'real-world' avant garde provocations, although with Home one is never sure what is original and what is a copy; what is 'real' and what is fiction.

Revolting prose, rediculous subject matter, annoying as hell--THE BEST BOOK I HAVE READ IN YEARS! Or the worst.