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Ballantine/Del Rey 1991 (US) ISBN 0 345 36185 7 |
| Funtopia review: |
Joe Gibson is a washed-up alcoholic rock
star, an ex-rebel who's now nothing but an embarrassment. When the TV
starts sending him messages one night, he's inclined to write it off as
no more than a bad case of DTs. Fortunately for Joe, the TV messages are
followed up by a visit from a representative of the Nine, a shadowy
council of mystics and seers, who warns Joe that he's on a voodoo
hitlist. Thus begins a chaotic interdimensional chase, in which Gibson confronts tontons macoutes; psychic interference; UFOs; a very hip, and very scary, demon called Yancey Slide; and the ultimate transdimensional threat – Necrom itself. A precursor to the thoroughgoing non-realism of his later book, Jim Morrison's Adventures In The Afterlife, Necrom sees Farren making playful use of some of the wilder jetsam of theosophy and parapsychology to drive an excellent thriller. |
| Other reviews: | |
| Author's comment | See Mick Farren's Collected Works |
| Availability |
Fairly common online, some new copies offered here and there.
Find
Necrom at Bookfinder.Com |
| Excerpt (by permission) |
Gibson was intrigued by the way
Nephredana managed to make six-hundred-year-old events sound like they had
happened just yesterday. "Around 1500, the Europeans started showing up, but Montezuma, who was emperor, by then, was ready for them, and they were never able to establish a beachhead on the continent. The threat from across the Atlantic, however, galvanized Aztec science. In less than seventy years, they had electricity, the internal combustion engine, and powered flight and were taking their first shots at splitting the atom." Gibson whistled. "You're putting me on?" Nephredana shook her head. "Not a bit of it. You can't imagine what can be achieved in a state run by an absolute, life-and-death autocrat when the motivation's there. And remember something else: all this time they were still practicing the same sun-worshiping, human-sacfificing religion that they'd had when they were living in mud huts, only it had now grown to truly epic proportions. You should have seen the Great Solstice Festival of 1577. They snuffed a quarter of a million people at that four-day bash. Now that's what you call motivation." "You make it sound like you were there." Nephredana sighed. "I was. I was having an affair with a fighter pilot from Tenochtitlan at the time, but after that slayfest I had to dump him. Too much blood even for me." "So what happened next?" "They let off their first experimental bomb in 1605 and then spent the next ten years perfecting a method for delivering a nuclear holocaust. The means wasn't all that spectacular - a big, clumsy, prop-driven bomber, all fuel and bombload, but it could make it across the Atlantic and that was all that mattered. The Aztecs weren't all that bothered about getting their aircrews home again." "Extra sacrifices?" "Exactly." "So what did they want to do? Nuke Europe back to the Stone Age?" "Precisely that. They knew that the Eurotrash in their sailing ships would keep on coming, and, more to the point, they would inevitably pilfer bits and pieces of Aztec advanced technology, upgrade their armaments, and begin posing a real threat. According to Aztec thinking, a preemptory strike was the only answer, and, as an added plus, it would be one fuck of a bonanza of souls for the Sun God. By 1615, the Aztec military industrial complex was in high gear, turning out an armada of planes for the raid on Northern Europe." "What stopped them?" "Nothing stopped them." "I don't understand." "That's because you're still thinking in terms of your own dimension. Just because you've still got Europe intact, you assume that everyone else has." Gibson blinked. "You mean they did it?" "Damn right they did it. July 4, 1618, the Night of the Many Suns. They laid a strip of bombs from Lisbon to Warsaw, as far north as London and as far south as Naples." |