- Hardcover: 254 pages
- Publisher: Savoy Books (12 Feb 2001)
- Language English
- ISBN-10: 0861301013
- ISBN-13: 978-0861301010
- Product Dimensions: 23.4 x 16 x 2.8 cm
- Average Customer Review: 4.0 out of 5 stars See all reviews (1 customer review)
- Amazon Bestsellers Rank: 656,413 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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Customer Reviews
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful
Format:Hardcover
If you like your books challenging, they don't come much more challenging than this. Baptised in the blood of millions is Britton's third novel in the Lord Horror series. The first (of the same name) has yet to see print in English and is the only book in Britain to have been banned since Last exit to Brooklyn. The second, entitled 'Motherf*ckers', covers much of the same ground, but with a comic flair sadly missing from Baptised. This book is perhaps his most relentless work to date. The novel's protagonist, a fictionalised, mythologized simulacrum of the wartime radio traitor William Joyce, a.k.a. Lord Haw-haw, battles his way through a London besieged by Germania and terrorised by chocolate-covered Jews fired as missiles against the hapless citizenry. This book sets an unholy pace, as happy tackling the relative merits of rock'n'roll, as Wittgenstein and Schopenhaur, hardcore sex, international Jewry, political didactics, and wartime confectionary; it slices through history like a cutthroat razor. It's impossible to compare Britton's work with any other contemporary British writer because it is nothing like anything written by any other contemporary British writer. Only by taking a leaf out of Britton's insanely eclectic world can you get anywhere near the essence of it. Imagine Screwdriver, The Specials, P.J. Proby, the Prodigy and ACDC providing the soundtrack, then add a dollop of Swift, Burroughs, Home, Lovecraft, Ballard and Moorcock, and you're kind of getting there. Then all you need is some bizarre, redundant cultural iconography and weird wartime slang. Swallow your Prozac, exterminate all rational thought and leave your prejudices at the door. Then you might 'enjoy' "Baptised for what it is" .That said, the book does suffer from blindingly obtuse linguistic tomfoolery, repetition, a sense of surrealism that would shame Bosch, no sense of narrative cohesion, and a complete lack of concern for the sanity of its reader. I wouldn't read it twice. But I'd read it once.
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