I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.
– Hunter S. Thompson
An Adderall and alcohol fueled, dangerous dream of a novel, in a nightmarish paean to Waits and Kerouac, Burgess and Kubrick, Forbes paints a LSD fueled journey down the rabbit-hole with his stunning brilliance of imagery, drowning in surreal pageantry. He drags you, literally, into a different world, a world of multi-coloured dragons and breathtaking vistas, where nothing is ever what it seems. Or is it?
Forbes’ prose is brilliant, a searchlight reaching across a blasted land. Sandpaper sliding across exposed nerve endings, the frisson of dread before the beast of the night explodes from on high. The smell of carrion upon the night wind, sliding across the senses. As Michael Bunker puts it, Nighthawks at the Mission is an epic, fantasy, sci-fi, tour-de-force. I don’t know whether to hug Michael or hit him – his review of Nighthawks is everything I wished to say about the novel. Drat him, anyway, for stealing my thunder! (Yes, I now have a crush on him for reaching into my soul . . .)
In a closed society where everybody’s guilty, the only crime is getting caught. In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity.
Visualize, please, a world of seven moons. A world of light and storms, of death and life carried out on an unimaginable scale. A world where nothing, and everything is, and is not, what it seems. Nighthawks reads like the bastard offspring of A Clockwork Orange and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas –
. . . two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half-full of cocaine and a whole galaxy of multicolored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers…. A quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of Budweiser, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls.
All consumed on the deck of the Queen Mary as she sails towards a new and shocking world of dreams and illusion.
Not everyone is going to love this book as I do. It is a twisted and bacchanalian view into a quirky, funky and totally surreal mind, a mind not everyone will enjoy or appreciate. It is more a view into social pathology and psychological serenity, a world beyond the mundane and boring Pity those whose mind cannot reach beyond the boundaries. This a frightening and surreal fable, weird and wonderful. And almost painfully brilliant.
If you require that all your little bunny-rabbits have lovely, silky brown fur, don’t bother picking up this book. These bunnies have brilliantly coloured fur, warping and twisting through serpentine mirrors, razor-sharp teeth reaching out through blood-stained maws. They are shockingly alive, reaching into your mind to dazzle and tease, leaving you breathless and dazed, deep beneath the sea of darkness within your own mind.
“And the tail-lights dissolve, in the coming of night, and the questions in thousands take flight… – Robert Plant
Very, very highly recommended – buy the ticket, and take the ride, a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label and a vat of colourful pills by your side . . .
Nighthawks at the Mission is available for FREE August 1st at Amazon.