I’ve read and enjoyed both Kelso and Bradley before, so I came to this collaborative effort with high expectations and a few doubts. Well, the expectations have been met, and the doubts stomped down the drain like an accidental bowel movement had whilst showering… sorry, sorry, please blame that crude imagery on the fact that the protagonist of this story, an unsavoury gutter-journalist called Fulton, has left a little of his grubbiness upon me.
Where was I? Right, expectations and doubts.
My expectations were high because I’ve encountered the works of both authors before, though as singular entities, and they both more than deliver the goods every time. The doubts I had came from the manner of the goods they are able to deliver; Kelso I know from the ultra-hip and highly speculative end of independent lit, whereas Bradly is the veriest avatar of anarchic erudition. Both scare me to the point of pooping in the shower, where one is so young and yet so bloody talented, and the other wields a sledgehammer intellect in a literary scene where most carry ping-pong paddles… which is all my ham-fisted way of saying, how could two very different yet brilliant writers possibly produce a cohesive joint venture? I don’t know, but they did because THE CHURCH OF LATTER-DAY EUGENICS is a riotous romp.
(Oh, and special mention to the awesome illustrations by Nick Patterson throughout, which bear just a hint of James Gillray about them.)