Let's set things straight: Will Clarke's LORD VISHNU'S LOVE HANDLES is a darn funny book--some of it literally laugh-out-loud funny. Clarke's here-it-is, straight-forward style is fun to read, and the author can set up a scene, antagonize his protagonist, then knock it out of the park with ingenuous comedic wit and ease. Clarke's goofy, ultra-fantastic story--about a yuppie psychic who goes to work for the government in exchange for forgiveness of his IRS debt, yet subsequently loses his family when they're kidnapped by his wacky cohorts--is fresh, innovative, funny. . .but just takes darn forever to wrap itself up.
To be sure, this is not your Aunt Sadie's light comedy; Clarke's story is quite dark, fueled by violence and death. While Travis Anderson, the protagonist, more or less keeps his wits about him as his life hopelessly unravels, I couldn't help but feel frustrated as the plot descended into catastrophic goofiness. And kept descending, page after page, chapter after chapter--until I was begging for the book to be over, and the insanity to end. (And then the author punctuates all of the nonsense with a final, four-page chapter that left me scratching my head in sheer bewilderment.) LORD VISHNU'S LOVE HANDLES is well-written and funny--but when you have to suspend disbelief to this degree, for a comedy, mind you, much of the positives this book brings vanish like the blue Vishnu gods the protagonist imagines he's seeing.