Charlie Templeton, his wife Mandy, and student mistress Mary-Jane Millford survived the London terrorist bombings of 7/7, but history has yet to be made. To save the future of western civilization, Charlie, a schizoid cultural studies lecturer with a penchant for horror films and necrophilia, must fight the zombies of university bureaucracy and summon the will to become the last in a long line of mad prophets announcing the end of art.
…A bleakly humourous look at the moral bankruptcy of the institutional life of modern academia; it’s supposition, that the archetypal modern psychopath is no longer a Bateman-esque neo-liberal banker, but university pseud.
Much of the controversiality of Home is in the ragamuffin lines he draws: no literature, no high art, no serious music, no non-revolutionary politics, no white-orientated community buzz and so on. Like Poe rejecting old Europe, Home is forging a new continent for the modern, breaking with the new context we’re in, delineating a parallax vision of hallucinatory powers… Home’s novel is not about devils, but is itself devilish. At the start I said what he’s out to do is go further than just be real; he’s out to be fundamental. Of course, it’s a masterpiece.
…One of the great virtues of Home’s work is the way it forces us to address our own complacency.
Mandy, Charlie & Mary-Jane is a either a campus anti-novel or an anti-campus novel, or both. It is an anti-novel in the sense that it has no interest in the novel’s conventions. Characters are mere cyphers. There’s no ‘fine writing’ in its description. The anti-novel is relentless in its refusal of a redemptive dimension to the ‘literary’ as that which sets its petit-bourgeois readers above the world of capital and violence.