BOOK
Retromancer, by Robert Rankin
Gollancz, £14.99
3/5
IN A NUTSHELL
More far fetched fiction from the prodigious inventor of curious anomalies and their bonkers consequences.
REVIEW
I imagine Robert Rankin to be that oddly-attired real ale fan at the end of the bar, content in his own company, occasionally laughing at a private joke of his own making.
But if you buy him a pint he'll tell you a fanciful, wicked and amusing tale of magic and mayhem.
He'll tell you another tale the next night, fuelled by another pint, and the tale might be similar to the first and there'll be something vaguely reassuring in the tics and repetitions and something irritating too because you wish he'd just get on with it.
But he's telling the tale not for you, although you are his patron, but for his own pleasure because he likes to take his inventions on manoeuvres and keep his linguistic musculature tip-top and circumnavigate his most peculiar and abundant imaginings, like a gardener tending his blooms.
The latest in Rankin's output of "Far-Fetched Fiction" is Retromancer, in which young hero Rizla finds himself in a Brentford overrun by the Nazis.
He must go back in time in the company of genius, magician and oddball Hugo Rune to pit his wits against dark foes in a series of Tarot-related challenges to restore a more obliging timeline.
If you like this sort of silliness, you'll like this because this, well, this is that sort of silliness. There really is no point asking Rankin to grow up. It's way too late.
