Member Reviews
Note: I received a free unpublished proof of this book, for a limited time, in exchange for an honest review. All opinions here are my own.
*Since this book contains themes of death, violence, murder, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, guns, knives, addiction and substance use, sex work, mental illness, trauma, and fire, and all of these things are discussed very often, I only recommend it to adult readers (18+).*
I originally requested this book because it covers a few themes that feature in my reading and written work repeatedly—superheroes, vigilantes, angry guys trying to fix the world, the nature of obsession, gritty settings, the whole bit. I do not think it was a particularly exemplary example of a novel about any of those things, but it was alright so I’m giving it three stars.
Before I continue—this book is not *technically* science fiction or fantasy, as there are no truly speculative elements, but it is definitely geared towards a speculative fiction audience. It is billed as “horror,” “literary fiction,” and “mystery and thrillers,” and I do not think anybody who is not already interested in stories about superheroes and superpowers will be interested in this story. The reader’s ability to understand the author’s intent rests on the reader having some familiarity with the genre conventions and tropes of a certain sort of gritty superhero or fantasy fiction. As in, anybody can understand the text of the book, but it makes a whole lot more sense to someone who’s read at least a little bit of stuff like *The Boys* by Garth Ennis, *Wild Cards* by George R.R. Martin, *Watchmen* by Alan Moore, *Death Note* by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata, and *The Dresden Files* by Jim Butcher. There is also a touch of a noir sensibility reminiscent of, say, *The Hunter* by Richard Stark. I wouldn’t say that *Chasing the Dragon* subverts the gritty superhero genre, but it is the sort of thing, like *The Princess Bride* or *The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy* that stems from a genuine appreciation of the genre and plays certain things straight while also poking fun at it and lampshading it throughout.
The story follows a young man who one day decides to become a superhero—albeit in the real world, not a world with superpowers. While the author presents the story in a funny way, it is clear from the very beginning that protagonist Simon Dooley—a.k.a. “Reformo”—is not mentally or emotionally well. He has good intentions but they come from a deeply-flawed place. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. His ideas of right and wrong are childlike and clearly impressed into him by his now-dead, emotionally-abusive mother who, if Dooley’s recollections of her are accurate, probably had some sort of anxiety disorder.
Dooley’s journey to become Reformo is at parts disjointed, anticlimactic, and graphically violent. He kills people gratuitously. He helps people who could actually use his help. He kills people we might not blame him for killing. Over the course of his narrative, Dooley narrates his bizarre perceptions of love, family, justice, crime, societal ills, and his role in bringing back order. He also discovers new things about his family and the people around him. The narrative is by no means complex but it is unpredictable and goes beyond that of many stream-of-consciousness sorts of novels. I was also pleasantly surprised that the ending was somewhat happy and uplifting for a book so dependent on macabre humor. While Dooley is a flawed, violent, and unlikeable protagonist, the reader leaves the book with the sense that there is some hope for him in the world.
Overall, I didn’t find this book *offensive*, but it talks about a lot of depressing and morose topics throughout and I don’t think that anybody sensitive to heavy topics would enjoy it. I actually found the author’s portrayal of a character with emotional troubles, strong feelings at odds with the world around him, and a limited grasp on reality that leads to him relying on his fantasies to cope with uncertainty to be somewhat realistic, even alongside the blunt nature of the comedy. While it is clear that Dooley’s view of the world is very strange and his way of reacting to such things is, at many times, laughably bizarre, the reader still gets a sense of the life experiences that led to him acting this way and committing acts of violence. This depiction, while not perfect, still feels far more sensitive than the way that many real-world figures such as Chris Chan and Randy Stair are portrayed—while these people’s actions are and were abhorrent, many people don’t realize that poking fun at these people’s strange interests ignores the underlying factors that lead to mental illness, which have little to nothing to do with merely having an interest in comics or cartoons. We can feel sorry for Dooley as a character without approving of all his actions.
This book was pretty short and did not do many particularly interesting things, but I thought the writing was good enough and it was an alright read. I think the book could have been tightened up a bit in the editing process, but it is one of the author’s first few books from a small press and I honestly think that any subtle mistakes in his writing will be fixed with experience.