This is the tale of a 1960s student and his fascination for the occult. Told in the form of a diary, which his sinister mentor at the Black Book Lodge must read, this is a dense, claustrophobic tale. It's anarchic and weird, and only near the end does it lose its way in trying to deliver a conventional ending. It's quite fun for most of the way though, albeit in a very dark way. Never laugh out loud funny, it does prompt the occasional wry smile. However, for a book about the occult set in 1967 it drops some real factual clangers, and suggests that research was sloppy or non-existent. The narrator buys albums before they were actually released, hums tunes that didn't exist at the time, and has us believe he is a Sagittarian with Venus in Virgo (physically impossible). Something of a cult success, but not as brilliant as you'd hope.