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In some unnamed alter-America, things are getting weird: its starting to look as though the president may be manufactured, a fat, bald old man in superhero tights rapes young girls in the ghetto, a celebrity porn star loses her mind and disappears, a serial-killing werewolf slaughters scores of prostitutes while the police remain baffled, mysterious mega-corporations disintegrate and vanish without a trace and gangs of street urchins announce the coming of their messiah, who will arrive in the form of a shirtless, knife-wielding, blond boy . . . meanwhile, some spectral, enigmatic force seems to pull all the strings as everyone marches blindly into an almost incomprehensible civil war.
By turns punishingly stark and wildly lyrical, grimly humorous and deadly serious, The Garbageman and the Prostitute is an eerie, genre-bending tour de force, a Menippean satire echoing the envelope-pushing pulp fiction of Philip K. Dick, Cornell Woolrich and Jim Thompson, as well as the seminal literary innovations of Franz Kafka, William Faulkner and Alain Robbe-Grillet. It is a dark, disjointed journey into the meanings of memory, madness and murder . . .
A sad and creepy work which, like all science fiction, is really about the present. Many moving effects; much consensual and nonconsensual power exchange with alien life. Entertaining and at times haunting.
-- William T. Vollmann
Dirty and alive . . .
-- Steve Aylett , author of Slaughtermatic, Lint and The Crime Studio
The Garbageman and the Prostitute is a sensuous riot of language, perverse and outrageous - a wild, gonzo-porn excavation of some wicked, post-futurist landscape rendered with such scatological precision you can practically see the buildings sweat. Zack Wentz is Pynchon, Bukowski, P. K. Dick, and someone else - some huffy, undiscovered heavyweight - all swinging at once, fists knowingly trained on the reader's sense of what's possible in fiction. A word of advice - read the book, take the beating - you'll wear your bruises with pride.
-- Matthew Derby , author of Super Flat Times
Zack Wentz is possessed, Im convinced of this. The wandering souls of Kathy Acker, Richard Brautigan and Cornell Woolrich have, at one time or all at once, invaded Wentz body as he wrote this book. I have not been as disturbed by such bloody sickening madness since Richard Grossmans The Alphabet Man. Lycanthrope lunacy abounds, whores working the corners of Vollmann Street, rocknroll from a UFO and Barry Malzbergs worst wet dream . . . sound like fun? Oh yes, oh yes, indeedare you going to open these pages, I ask, or are you going to open these pages?
-- Michael Hemmingson , editor of What the Fuck: The Avant-Porn Anthology
You can special order me at any bookstore. I'm also available online via Chiasmus Press , Powells , Amazon , SPD , or Kill Me Tomorrow .
For those of you in the UK, Amazon has a few copies there as well.
All Chiasmus Press books are distributed by SPD . Stores: see the "booksellers" link on the top right hand corner of the SPD page for discounts on multiple copies.
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