From /tmp/sf.15692 Tue Mar 30 18:17:03 1993 Path: lysator.liu.se!isy!liuida!sunic!lunic!eru.mt.luth.se!enterpoop.mit.edu!usc!elroy.jpl.nasa.gov!ames!ig!dont-reply-to-paths From: wex@media.mit.edu (Alan Wexelblat) Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.reviews Subject: NECROM by Mick Farren Message-ID: <9212241706.AA02233@media.mit.edu> Date: 28 Dec 92 21:22:31 GMT Sender: mcb@presto.ig.com Followup-To: rec.arts.sf.written Lines: 52 Approved: mcb@presto.ig.com (temporary rec.arts.sf.reviews moderator) X-Now-Playing: Silence X-Dj-In-The-House: Wex NECROM by Mick Farren Review Copyright (c) 1992 Alan Wexelblat I'm still trying to decide how I feel about this book. As I was reading it, I bounced between being amused, being bored, and being enchanted by the sheer lunacy of it. Farren manages to pull it out in the end, though, which makes the book almost worth the cover price (mutter, grumble). Necrom is the story of Joe Gibson who is either a loony with an invented past and weird hallucinations he won't stop believing, or a down-on-his-luck rock&roll star with some *very* strange friends. The story is told by Gibson in a series of interviews with his psychiatrist. He tells her how he came to meet an assortment of truly weird demons, magicians, and associated maniacs, be kidnapped by them, and be taken to a series of other dimensions to participate in ever-more bizarre activities surrounding the possible awakening of an elder god. As the story is being told, the narrator Joe Gibson must deal with the apparent fact that in the reality where he finds himself, the rock-star Joe Gibson never existed. There are no records, no videos, nothing to document even the most mundane portions of his story. He fights against this as he fights against the drugs and restraints in an attempt to escape the mental hospital. At the same time, he is telling a story that would be thought insane even if the mundane parts could be documented. Real demons, UFOs, multiple dimensions, magic that works... it all sounds crazy. >From a plot point of view, Farren appears to have bit off more than he can chew. There are loose ends that don't make sense anywhere (like the UFOs -- anyone want to tell me what they're doing in this book?). But the main line hangs together and has a satisfying ending. Character-wise, I think the book fails. The reader realizes early on that Joe Gibson believes the story he is telling. We only have the word of minor characters that Gibson is not being truthful and we don't have any reason to trust them. This kills a major element of the suspense and forces us to deal with Gibson more straightforwardly than we might otherwise. He's not all that likable, except in comparison to the company he is forced to keep. And yet, Farren kept me from being disappointed. The book is funny enough in places, weird enough in places, and well enough written to keep me going. If you like strange stories and don't mind a few loose ends, this is one you should get. %T Necrom %A Mick Farren %I Del Rey SF Paperback %G ISBN 0-345-36185-7 %D 1991 %O $4.95 %P 371 pp From /tmp/sf.4258 Tue Feb 1 03:40:46 1994 Path: liuida!sunic!trane.uninett.no!nac.no!ifi.uio.no!sgiblab!swrinde!elroy.jpl.nasa.gov!ames!decwrl!pa.dec.com!hildy.zso.dec.com!rcrowley From: rcrowley@hildy.zso.dec.com ("Rebecca Leann Smit Crowley") Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.written Subject: Mick Farren, _Phaid the Gambler_ Date: 29 Nov 1993 02:55:43 GMT Organization: Canaries For Freedom Lines: 37 Message-ID: <2dbobf$587@usenet.pa.dec.com> Reply-To: rcrowley@zso.dec.com NNTP-Posting-Host: hildy.zso.dec.com X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL0] A friend of mine who never rereads books periodically makes room on his shelves by giving me his paperbacks. I wind up reading books I might not otherwise bother with, some of which are very, very good. Some, however, are merely acceptable. _Phaid the Gambler_, I'm afraid, falls into this category. In the far future, Earth is populated by three human races, intelligent cats and dogs, and androids which no one knows how to make but which reproduce themselves (and many whose functions have long since been forgotten), and is divided into regions of hot, cold, and bearable. Phaid used to live in a relatively civilized area, but had to split for the back country when his gambling ways got him into a spot of trouble. Years later, he returns to discover things have gone downhill. A lot. A lot of sf gadgetry of the Star Wars variety shows up: land crawlers and blasters, among others. The decadent republic is made up of sharply divided classes, and revolution is fomenting. Weird drugs. Weirder sex. Juvenal would have felt right at home describing the behavior of some of the aristocratic women. (I kept thinking about that satire about the mother of Caesar who supposedly amused herself by playing prostitute. Then a character in the book did exactly that. Very strange.) On the whole, relatively uninspired. The dialogue is pretty cheesy, and the action is stilted. Phaid is. . .passive, I suppose. Buffeted by destiny. He reacts to situations, rather than responding, and he never seems to initiate action of any sort. I might read the sequel, _Citizen Phaid_, since I have it sitting around. Then again, I might not. Either way, books like this help me understand why my friend doesn't bother to reread his books. -- Rebecca Crowley standard disclaimers apply rcrowley@zso.dec.com He doesn't give a damn about my body -- all he wants is my mind.