Simon Spurrier has already carved out quite a career for himself in comics – first with the venerable British weekly 2000AD, before moving on to the big American comic publishers DC and Marvel; he’s currently writing an X-Men spin-off. He’s also written a number of licensed books for likes of the Warhammer universe and others. However he’s also branched out with his own crime novels, A Serpent Uncoiled being the second after Contract came out a few years ago.
If I say the Serpent stars Dan Shaper as a PI who walks the mean streets of London you are probably going to be thinking ‘oh same old, same old’ but Spurrier twists that cliché right around (the first of many twists on The Standard Detective Novel). Because Shaper is a PI for the Dark Side, an enforcer, a fixer, working for those shady inhabitants of Old London Town who can’t take their problems to legitimate investigators, never mind the police. The novel opens with an hilarious set-piece where Shaper is trying to catch the thief of the rather specialised Viagra substitute used by the madam of a brothel catering exclusively for geriatric clients. Shaper is not really evil himself – not so much black as a muddy grey. He cares for his pet iguana but gets no thanks for it. And Shaper has problems. Big problems. Something Very Bad happened in his past. To blot out the memories of that and keep himself sane he self-medicates on fistfuls of various drugs. However he can only go so far with this treatment and to prevent complete mental melt-down he has to regularly shut himself away in his flat to go cold turkey and detox.
He’s just about to start one of these come-down sessions when he is offered a job with a huge pay cheque – to investigate the threats on the life of one George Glass. Glass is one of a number of vivid, almost Dickensian characters that appear in the novel. He’s certainly not the sort of client that Sharper is used to dealing with – he’s old, rich and guru to a new-age cult. He also claims to be thousands of years old.
Sharper’s investigations are soon complicated by a nasty serial killer and the reappearance of the London crime family he used to work for. Sharper starts seeing… things and we can’t be sure if it’s real, chemical induced hallucination, or if pure madness has started kicking in. We have far East mysticism meeting East End gangsterism as Spurrier skips and slides between genres, bending noir crime, urban fantasy and graphic horror together. The novel’s plot develops to be as sinuous as the serpent of its title with many well-paced surprises along the way.
Spurrier has a singular prose style as this quote, the start of the first chapter, indicates:
London hacked up its lungs and glistened.
The november drizzle had held off for the first time in three nights, but the air seemed choked regardless: a clammy ambient moisture caressing slick bricks and grey, leafless trees. On ledges through Soho, pigeons sulked in moronic bedragglement, while brave smokers lurked in smoggy palls outside steaming pubs, muttering at the indignity. In doorways along oxford Street tramps clutched at dreaming dogs for warmth, and in Camden even the dealers – initially optimistic at the break in the rain – took to lurking near kebab shops and club queues, leeching excess heat, to mumble their mantras:
‘Skunk, hash, pills . . . skunk, hash, pills . . .’
At times it’s hard to see past the dazzling surface prose and the larger than life, almost grotesque, characters that show Spurrier’s comic book roots. But it’s not all like that – Sharper and some of his relationships are subtly drawn and deep down the novel has a real heart to it (if admittedly a little black). Overall it’s a bit of a heady brew, but if you get it down, the rewards are well worth it.
Without giving too much away the ending allows for more adventures with Sharper. If there are, I’ll be joining him. I think I’m addicted.