SPANKY

By CHRISTOPHER FOWLER (Warner Books; 1994)

     To be sure, the novels of England’s Christopher Fowler--which include ROOFWORLD, RUNE, RED BRIDE and DARKEST DAY--have quite a few flaws: most are steeped in “hip” culture (SPANKY’S title character’s every appearance is accompanied by elaborate descriptions of his trendy duds) and so tend to date none too well, and bear an unfortunate reliance on cliches (climbing into bed with SPANKY’S protagonist, a chick warns: “no funny stuff!”). 

But Fowler’s books are also lively, inventive and extremely difficult to put down.  For proof, check out SPANKY, a witty and enjoyable pop horror updating of FAUST which, despite Fowler’s claims that it represents a “departure and a new direction for me”, is very much in fitting with much of the rest of his work.

     Martyn Ross is a lowly furniture store employee desperate for a better life.  He meets a slick guy named Spanky (real name: Spancialosaphus Lacrimosae), who offers to spice things up for him.  Spanky is a self-professed daemon (repeat: daemon, not demon!) who unlike most doesn’t want to take Martyn’s soul...although just what he does want is initially unclear. 

Martyn unwisely accepts Spanky’s offer and quickly finds himself steeped in a world of swanky nightclubs, fancy restaurants and loose women.  Inevitably, however, Spanky eventually reveals his price: he wants to take over Martyn’s body in order to commit dastardly acts.  Martyn resists, and Spanky retaliates by loosing mayhem on those close to him and eventually Martyn himself.  Luckily the latter has done research on Spanky’s current host body and discovers it only has a week to go before it decays completely, meaning Martyn has to resist Spanky’s onslaughts for that amount of time...a feat easier said than done!

     Fowler’s first person narrative is a brisk and compelling one.  His characterizations are reasonably strong and the presentation of Spanky’s high society world is quite convincing (complete with cameo appearances by Kenneth Branagh, Emma Thompson and Salman Rushdie). 

The book, like all Fowler’s work, is set in its author’s native London and is overall extremely English in its approach, but not to the point of alienating American readers like myself (although SPANKY, curiously enough, has never been published in the US).  What Fowler provides is a satisfying read that will never overshadow the works of Goethe or Christopher Marlowe, but acquits itself quite nicely on its own terms.  You could certainly do a lot worse.

     Anyway, my biggest beef is not with the writing but the packaging, specifically the cover art depicting a shirtless dude wearing thigh high boots and leather underwear.  I can fully understand prospective readers being put off the book, thinking it gay pornography.  For some time I thought so too, only deigning to open the thing after encountering a rave review.  I found myself pleasantly surprised by the content, but was still careful not to be caught reading it in public!