I love it when Joe R. Lansdale gets a little weird, or a little kinky. In The Ape Man’s Brother we get both. And we get some excellent writing in a first person narrative almost devoid of dialog.
First, it’s a novella, only 103 pages in a pretty large font and a few full page line drawing images to boot! This ain’t no epic yarn. Second, the link to the Amazon offering (by which I might make a few pennies if you buy) offers the deluxe hardcover for something like $28.00 despite the fact the inside cover says it’s $20.00. That’s probably Joe Biden’s fault. And I found at least three glaring typos inside. Harrumph to their “special edition.” (BTW, I just re-red this paragraph and found a typo.)
I give nothing away when I say the narrator purports to be the real life inspiration for Cheetah of Tarzan-and-Cheetah. It’s a wonderful trope to talk about nature/civilization and savagery/acculturation. That Lansdale is a clever fellow.
The narrator, whose name is given in the book but is unpronounceable, is a remarkable twist on the premise of the Pygmalion/My Fair Lady story on one hand and a connoisseur of Hedonism on the other.
The last thing I’ll give away is the narrator possesses the legendary senses that living in nature gives to all wild creatures. It plays into the plot nicely. Especially the sense of smell. But enjoy this list of sensory language until you get your own copy: “(He)…grabbed Red’s arm. There was a cracking sound, like the weight of heavy ice breaking a rotten limb,…” or this weird visual image of blood, “…like a geyser full of red plum juice had erupted.” or, back to the ears, “You could hear flesh ripping like someone tearing old bed sheets.” or, again, “I could hear helium leaking from the zeppelin like a slow fart from a grandma.”
Do yourself a favor—don’t read the jacket cover until after you read the book. You’ll like it better. Oh, and do yourself one more—Re-read chapter One immediately after you finish reading it. You’ll thank me.