Nurture or nature? Nature or nurture? One thing’s for sure— Your life’s not yours.
Meet BJ and Rainey, two misfits from a rural town in Kentucky. While living their everyday lives, they stumble upon a shocking humanity is controlled by invisible creatures called the viziers who manipulate through pheromones and telepathic suggestion. Delving deeper, they uncover a bizarre world where laughter and tears are commodities and are forced to strive to be more than just “syrup units” providing the viziers with all the tragi-comic emotion they can eat.
Darkly comedic and thought-provoking, Silent Bob is a captivating exploration of the human condition, exposing the absurdity and vulnerability of our lives. With subtle humor and unexpected twists, this page-turner will leave readers questioning the true nature of their emotions and the forces shaping their lives.
I’ve had stories published in over 100 literary magazines. Pineapple, A Comic Novel in Verse, was published by Sagging Meniscus Press, as was Back to the Wine Jug, another novel in verse. NewSouth Books published The Theoretics of Love. Sagging Meniscus also published a story collection of mine, entitled Ghostly Demarcations. A previous novel of mine, Oldcat & Ms. Puss: A Book of Days for You and Me, was published several years ago by the now defunct Black Belt Press, and it was reviewed in Publishers Weekly. I have three story collections published, and I’ve edited several anthologies, notably, Belles’ Letters: Contemporary Fiction by Alabama Women and Tartts One through Five. I recently published a novel with the imposing title, Let There Be Lite, OR, How I Came To Know and Love Godel’s Incompleteness Proof. I’ve been the director of Livingston Press . . . forever.
Silent Bob, by Joe Taylor, National Publishing, 100 pages, $9.95.
When a novel is reviewed by the prestigious Kirkus Reviews, the author already has a bonus. And even more if Kirkus praises the book, as they have done for Joe Taylor innovative novel, Silent Bob. And Kirkus is never wrong. So run (but do not trip) and get yourself a copy by the prolific novelist whose most recent novel was the highly praised Highway 28 West. Two characters in Silent Bob, Rainey (female) and her neighbor, BJ (male), discover that human beings are controlled by invisible, scaly, three-eyed creatures called “viziers”. In other words, there is no such thing as free will. Rainey and BJ are the only humans who can see the viziers and we follow the lives of the two through several decades. Here is a delicious sampling of Taylor’s depiction of one of the viziers, Tiny T, who has control of 14 folks in four households: Every night, all night long, Tiny T would scrabble over blue and gray shingles with its thirty tar-caked claws, expending great muscular leaps between rooftops to willy-nilly dribble dreams or nightmares downward into the four households. And in the mornings, with coffee or chocolate milk…being served below, Tiny T would huff its single great lung deeply to spill either wheezing ennui, suffocating guilt, or budding plans onto the fourteen heads inhabiting the four households below those blue and gray shingles… to invade each brain’s axons and neurons.
By curious coincidence, Joe Taylor’s darkly comedic fantasy blends in with scientific inquiry. Around the same time Silent Bob was published, The New York Times Science Times supplement ran an article by the neurologist, Robert Sapolsky, who concluded after decades of study that free will does not exist: it is just hormones that drive people to act. It is always a pleasure to read Joe Taylor’s superbly crafted prose with its sly humor and fully developed characters. Silent Bob is scintillating fiction, which Kirkus Reviews gets absolutely right by calling the novel “delightfully outlandish” with “mystery, humor and bizarre creatures.” Curt Leviant
BJ and Rainey, two friends, then lovers and later a family from central Kentucky, discover an invisible world of three-eyed viziers with reptilian pink tongues, living on the rooftops of ordinary people’s houses. To the viziers, people are syrup units, to watch, control and gossip about. And to thrive on their emotions.
Together, the couple takes the reader through different events of modern American history from the 1970s Vietnam War, the Oklahoma bombing, sheep Dolly cloning, the Twin Towers destruction, the millennium bug, COVID-19, and QAnon.
Here is what happened when someone named Gerald passed away.
When Rainey and BJ glanced at one another, Frances went on. “I mean, all the happiness and all the sadness in the world. We get overwhelmed and die when our cups are brim-filled with both.”
She hummed for a moment, and then she broke down and sobbed loudly, “But Gerald’s cup wasn’t full! He was just twenty-three! Why? Why?” There was no answer.
Silent Bob, Rainey thought. There was no answer. Silent Bob, BJ thought. Frances’s sobs transformed slowly into a jerky humming.
And who is silent Bob? It’s for you to discover.
The dark satirical book is exotic, tantalizing, absurdist, and wonderful.
I devoured this in one sitting. Silent Bob is equal parts dark comedy and emotional gut-punch. The idea of “syrup units” humans reduced to dispensers of tears and laughter, felt both grotesque and heartbreakingly plausible. BJ and Rainey felt like friends by the end: awkward, stubborn, and entirely human. Their discoveries about the viziers make you question what your own feelings are “for.”
What I loved most is how the book sneaks up on you: it’s funny, then suddenly wrenching, then slyly profound. There are moments of absurd imagery that had me giggling aloud and then pages later sniffling. The writing is sharp without being showy; the author trusts the reader’s intelligence. If you want a book that will make you examine your own reactions, that’s wry and weird but full of heart, this is it. I can’t stop thinking about a few lines, they’ll stay with me for a long time.
Okay, this is freaky and fantastic. Silent Bob is the sort of speculative satire that uses a small-town setting to lampoon mass manipulation, consumer emotion, and how performance has replaced sincerity. The viziers are a brilliantly simple conceit, invisible overlords who profit from human feeling, and the book milks the idea for comedy and horror in equal measure.
The humor is sometimes black, sometimes dry, and the author delights in small grotesqueries: the notion that tears can be packaged and sold is delightfully bizarre. BJ and Rainey’s relationship is messy and believable; both characters are odd in ways that make them lovable. If you enjoy books that are a bit off-kilter, that critique modern life without being didactic, this one is for you. It’s clever, it’s unsettling, and it keeps you smiling while the rug is pulled out from under you.
I almost passed on this because the premise sounded too quirky for my taste, but I’m so glad I didn’t. Silent Bob is that rare novel that turns an offbeat idea into something hauntingly real. It starts with a fun ‘what if’ invisible beings shaping human emotion, and then digs deeper into the ways we perform grief, joy, and love.
The author’s control of tone is excellent: the book can be light and sprightly one paragraph and then uncompromisingly bleak the next. I loved the attention to detail in the Kentucky setting, it grounds the surreal elements and makes the stakes feel personal. The characters’ growth is subtle but satisfying; by the end I cared about them. Recommended to readers who like to be surprised by ideas and who enjoy satire with emotional teeth.
I read it in a few hours and was impressed. Didn't want to put it down. Literary and film references on every other page -- not sure how well that will go over among the hoi polloi people, but it sure was amusingly intellectual. Especially the reference to James Joyce.
I was somewhat surprised not to find out who Silent Bob was till page 57, but it was worth the wait. This is not a trivial story; as in the best SF, you ask some important and so-phis-ti-cated philosophical questions. The answers (such as there can be any) aren't what I expected, either.