








So, in 2002, a mysterious plague wipes out every last mammal on the planet Earth with a Y chromosome. Except Yorick (he's a dude) and Ampersand (his pet monkey). With the joint purpose of finding his girlfriend/fiancée Beth (last heard of somewhere in the Australian outback) and discovering the reason for his immunity to the plague, Yorick joins forces with Agent 355 and Dr Alison Mann, along with a bunch of crazy Amazons, some astronauts, a varied cast of regulars and other villagers and idiots, to entertain us for 9 mighty volumes. Volume 10 is due to be released in a couple of days...


A really neat idea, this... One thousand and one ordinary people, linked by the extraordinary Miranda Zero - each one of them an expert at something, and each one of them needed to help save the world in their own way. Highly recommended.













These volumes pick up the tale of Lucifer Morningstar from when he left his kingdom of Hell in the capable administrative hands of the angels Remiel and Duma (in Neil Gaiman's masterpiece, the Sandman). On the whole, this is fan-freaking-tastic, BUT (and I promise I'm not giving anything away here) given story's trajectory, there is really no other way that it can end and that's a pity. Sometimes, I wish these things could go on forever, but I suppose they wouldn't be as good then. Let's just say that there's no fear of Lucifer jumping the shark, even though he could if he wanted to!

About as interesting as it sounds, so not very. Unfortunately, I will have to try and wade through this again because I couldn't bring myself to read the whole thing. In the interests of fairness, there will be no star rating until then.

So, it's a good while since I read this. I know that I had tried to read it before and given up (Chapter One was very familiar), which is never a good sign. All in all, not a bad read. Popcorn for the brain. Not as funny as the first one, but not entirely terrible either.
This is not something that I have done since I started this reviewing business, but sweet Christ, I could not read this book. I'm sorry. I tried. I kept plodding along with it in the hopes that I'd get into it, but no joy. The story is tragic, even worse, it is hopeless; the protaganists have no redeeming qualities, because their mother has fucked with their heads so badly; the sex is simultaneously prolific, profane and completely devoid of any heart or heat. I suppose that it's a feat to be able to write something so filthy without any eroticism whatsoever. Whatever. It wasn't enough to keep me turning the pages. Maybe I'll give it another go in a year or two... but for now, Houellebecq: nil points.



