OK, first thing’s first, I mostly enjoyed this book. It is atmospheric and the writing clear and crisp, and chock full of enough weird to make fans of the weird stand up and cheer. But I’m giving it 3.5 out of 5 stars, because…

I don’t get the fascination with shit. That is, stories with graphic scenes or themes revolving around feces. Like snakes to Indiana Jones, when I read about defecation, I think to myself, “Why’d it have to be… shit?” This story has a lot of good, weird, whacked out, and interesting images and ideas, it’s got depth of character, originality, a grimy, sleazy mood, and some grimy, sleazy sex and fetishes to match… but then there’s the shit. A character with an opening in her back, like a portal to another reality, but it’s a swirling whirlpool of shit. There’s expolding toilets that release torrents of fecal water, a scene seemingly interrupted by two characters’ bouts with diarrhea, flying turds explained in graphic, splattering detail. Mind you, this is a relatively small part of Jordan Krall’s first book, but still, it’s a bit much for me. Call me a wuss, or prudish, or whatever the hell fits, but there it is.

A quick plot summation – Kevin’s cat Mithra brings home sweaty pieces of what turns out to be a sex doll, which comes to life when finally assembled. Kevin and June fall for each other, but there are some bad dudes out there who have lost her and want her back. There’s a subplot about Simon, God of Whores who lives in an alternate reality world that drips with pus and sex organs and such, a very intriguing world that I found mysterious and palpable, though by the end, Simon turns out to be a bit if a softy, which you wouldn’t have guessed from the prologue.

Since Piecemeal June, Krall has published two other books, Squid Pulp Blues and Fistful of Feet, the latter of which I have on my to-read pile and looks really good. As long as the turds are kept to a minimum, I can stomach just about anything.