Theatrum Mundi, out now
Visions and vignettes of an ever-changing world…
Reading Tim Dry’s Ricochet is like looking at the world through a distorting kaleidoscope, with aspects of our lives – and of those who have come before us – twisted into new forms that somehow make a terrible sense. Sometimes it feels as if words have just been thrown in a random order on the page, with fake newspaper headlines apparently created by some word generator or a translator who’s considerably less well versed in the language than he’s made himself out to be. But then, as you travel through the realms of Dry’s imagination – with real people dead and alive crowding into vignettes of impossibility – themes start to become apparent, and you may even wonder if somehow he’s seen beneath the surface of a sham reality to find something deeper.
Dry wields words like weapons, sometimes to wound, other times to deflect. It’s not a read for the faint of heart – the descriptions of sex and violence are visceral at times, and there’s a black humour running throughout. Some of the glimpses of this madness you wish would go on for much longer; others can’t go quickly enough – and no doubt, everyone will have their own take on which chapters go in which category.
Verdict: If you’re looking for a linear tale, Ricochet is not the book for you; if you want something that may challenge your imagination, then dive in. Just mind the Nazis, the slugs and Celebrity Bloodbath… 7/10