The O5R Book Club

So, last year I remember reading in Entertainment Weekly that Warren Ellis, author of such wonderful comic books as Transmetropolitan and Planetary, had written a prose novel.  I read the review, which seemed more befuddled than anything else, filed away the information that Ellis had written a novel, told one of my friends about it, and then promptly forgot about it.  Perhaps because, outside of Neil Gaiman, I've never read a novel by a comic book writer, probably for the same reason that I've never read a novel by a filmmaker (okay, I've read a collection of short stories by one of the Coen brothers, but that's it).  I know, for example, that Alan Moore, who is the greatest comic book writer alive, has written a novel, but I've never bothered to read it, because I can't imagine it being as good as his comic books (and from what I've read about it, I seem to be right, although I'm sure I'll wind up reading it someday.)  

Like I said, I forgot that the book existed.  Until I was at Barnes and Nobel on Saturday, killing time before going to see The Wackness (good, not great.  I'd say to wait until it is on DVD, but at some point, if you aren't doing anything more important, Ben Kingsley gives a performance that might be worth watching.) and I saw that the novel, Crooked Little Vein, was out in paperback.  Having nothing better to do, I went ahead and picked up the book.  I finished reading Gone Baby Gone, which I would have liked more if I hadn't seen the movie and didn't already know the huge twist that is central to the plot.  I had to take the car I drive into the dealership for an inspection and oil change, so I brought the book with me.  I finished it a few minutes ago.  It's... almost exactly what I expected, which is an odd thing to say about a book that is so weird.  The book is about a private eye, hired by the white house to find the secret "real constitution" that the founding fathers wrote, but that's little more than a MacGuffin.  The book is really about the profound weirdness of modern (or, if I was an asshole, I might write postmodern) America, and how the internet has basically made every bit of weirdness or perversion (and I say that with only some prejudice) into the mainstream, which is the kind of thing that permeates the best parts of Transmetropolitan.  Also, like Transmetropolitan, there are odd references to harpoons.  Just thought I'd throw that in there.  The book is good, especially for a first prose novel, and has a decent chance of becoming a cult phenomenon, but it's hardly essential reading. 

And that's my book report.