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Slave State
The Black Dog Eats the City
The 14th Ward of Wire City has become a mecca of sin and excess ever since a depression virus tore its way through the denizens of the slumsphere. Only one man, Lester Proctor--having buried his family who succumbed to the disease--is determined to find the mythic ‘Cure’ and restore some semblance of order to his city. On the way, he’ll encounter androids in search of forbidden love, stalkers, pimps, teeth salesmen, evil dwarves, slumlords, knife-gangs, and the few lucky escapologists who uploaded their minds to the Hollow Earth simulation.
Chris Kelso’s cult tale of nihilism and anarchy is back in print. There is no escape in the pursuit of hope.
Chris Kelso’s cult tale of nihilism and anarchy is back in print. There is no escape in the pursuit of hope.
174 pages, Paperback
First published March 28, 2014
3 people are currently reading
565 people want to read
About the author
Chris Kelso
72 books205 followersChris Kelso is an award-winning genre writer, editor, illustrator, and musician from Scotland. His work has been published widely across the UK, US and Canada.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
March 29, 2025
Minor edits July 2022.
In the mood for something different? Thirsty for a strange brew? Seek no more. Black Dog Eats the City is wildly creative and entertaining. I loved it. Chris Kelso deserves more readers.
This review was my first of about six for Literary Orphans
.....................
The Black Dog Eats The City by Chris Kelso. (Dig that title and cover art!)
Chris Kelso possibly was transported here from the future. Others say he channels the souls of WS Burroughs and PK Dick. Kelso himself claims to hail from Scotland, and that he's only 27 years old. That's his story and he's sticking to it. What's certain is, Kelso is a fearless and accomplished prose stylist with a pretty nifty imagination.
In The Black Dog Eats the City, Kelso employs bleak locales and speculative plot lines that incorporate satire, black humor, and occasionally, experimental techniques, that together recall the best of certain genre-busting authors from days past. Make no mistake though, Kelso is his own man.
The amusingly named town of Ersatz ("north of Wire, upwind of Spittle"), has its share of troubles. The place is "fortified with apathy, clotted by corruption. You go to sleep a boy; wake up an old man." The principal career path appears to be collecting trash. That, or salvaging human teeth and fingernails from the dead and sometimes the living, for use in Immitant sex objects. (Androids to you.) What's more, the town is afflicted with a malady that takes the form of a black dog, "the size of a large calf, its footfalls are silent" and "its ghost travels through human action and words before taking up residence in the victim's thoughts. From there, the Black Dog squeezes into the soul." One character hunts down a mysterious drug, The Cure, to ward off the Black Dog. Others say The Cure is a rumor. They're convinced that uploading your mind to the supercomputer in Hollow Earth is the way to go.
If this all sounds a tad … dark, well, it is that. Who doesn't love dark? Besides, Kelso is a whiz at humor. He seems to have an instinct for knowing when comic relief is needed, whether it's a line here or there, or an entire story inserted to give the reader a breather. "Even Androids Get the Blues" comes to mind, in which two androids hitch up after finding each other on www.Droid Match.com.
Trouble is, each is a repulsive, accurate recreation of one Thomas Gale, a human with "a craterous, acne scarred complexion with a yellow squeegee of hair growing in tufts from either side of his head" and a pillar-box mouth that "was enough to kindle the gag reflex of the sturdiest of droids." Not to mention sometimes incompatible genitalia. Or lack thereof. Take for example this exchange between Immitant no. 3118 and no. 215:
" —I see you were designed with a penis …
—Yes, unfortunately that horrible wife of his demands intercourse at least twice a year … Don't worry. I can insert into your rear socket. I think that's how it's supposed to go with droid-on-droid coitus."
A bit about the structure: The path of least resistance, I suppose, is to consider The Black Dog Eats the City a collection of linked stories. After all, there's a table of contents, each story with its own title. (If it quacks like a duck …) Or does Kelso consider it an experimentally structured novel? The chapters/stories are more closely linked than first impression suggests. And, while many characters are here and gone, some do reappear, and in many cases the characters' plot lines intersect. The Black Dog, of course, is at the core of many of these tales. Interspersed in the narrative are your typical themes of love, sex, battles between the sexes, and side trips to discuss whether or not feminist agenda is at the heart of the Alien movie franchise. Throughout the book, the tendency of each segment is to speak of the Black Dog at least in passing, and/or fill in blanks, like a guidebook to this place called Ersatz.
On the other hand, the Androids tale for one could easily stand on its own as a story. And then there's the look: the sections vary in style such that their unity is obscured. One chapter is a comic. Inner City Red is a three part screenplay—in which, btw, Black Dog has a speaking part. Some of the text is poetry. Some text is presented in three, narrow columns (which reads much smoother than you might think). And part two of "Soft" is repeated, largely verbatim, folded like a soufflé into the longer part three, with some ingredients missing but others added. Maybe Kelso was inspired here by the Dada/surrealist technique later employed by Burroughs, of cutting and rearranging text. I'll have to ask him about that and other stuff, someday over a beer or two in Scotland. I plan to sneak a peek at his ID. Is a writer this interesting really only 27? And then there's the earlier matter. Where do you really come from, sir? Fess up.
--This review appeared in Literary Orphans Journal
In the mood for something different? Thirsty for a strange brew? Seek no more. Black Dog Eats the City is wildly creative and entertaining. I loved it. Chris Kelso deserves more readers.
This review was my first of about six for Literary Orphans
.....................
The Black Dog Eats The City by Chris Kelso. (Dig that title and cover art!)
Chris Kelso possibly was transported here from the future. Others say he channels the souls of WS Burroughs and PK Dick. Kelso himself claims to hail from Scotland, and that he's only 27 years old. That's his story and he's sticking to it. What's certain is, Kelso is a fearless and accomplished prose stylist with a pretty nifty imagination.
In The Black Dog Eats the City, Kelso employs bleak locales and speculative plot lines that incorporate satire, black humor, and occasionally, experimental techniques, that together recall the best of certain genre-busting authors from days past. Make no mistake though, Kelso is his own man.
The amusingly named town of Ersatz ("north of Wire, upwind of Spittle"), has its share of troubles. The place is "fortified with apathy, clotted by corruption. You go to sleep a boy; wake up an old man." The principal career path appears to be collecting trash. That, or salvaging human teeth and fingernails from the dead and sometimes the living, for use in Immitant sex objects. (Androids to you.) What's more, the town is afflicted with a malady that takes the form of a black dog, "the size of a large calf, its footfalls are silent" and "its ghost travels through human action and words before taking up residence in the victim's thoughts. From there, the Black Dog squeezes into the soul." One character hunts down a mysterious drug, The Cure, to ward off the Black Dog. Others say The Cure is a rumor. They're convinced that uploading your mind to the supercomputer in Hollow Earth is the way to go.
If this all sounds a tad … dark, well, it is that. Who doesn't love dark? Besides, Kelso is a whiz at humor. He seems to have an instinct for knowing when comic relief is needed, whether it's a line here or there, or an entire story inserted to give the reader a breather. "Even Androids Get the Blues" comes to mind, in which two androids hitch up after finding each other on www.Droid Match.com.
Trouble is, each is a repulsive, accurate recreation of one Thomas Gale, a human with "a craterous, acne scarred complexion with a yellow squeegee of hair growing in tufts from either side of his head" and a pillar-box mouth that "was enough to kindle the gag reflex of the sturdiest of droids." Not to mention sometimes incompatible genitalia. Or lack thereof. Take for example this exchange between Immitant no. 3118 and no. 215:
" —I see you were designed with a penis …
—Yes, unfortunately that horrible wife of his demands intercourse at least twice a year … Don't worry. I can insert into your rear socket. I think that's how it's supposed to go with droid-on-droid coitus."
A bit about the structure: The path of least resistance, I suppose, is to consider The Black Dog Eats the City a collection of linked stories. After all, there's a table of contents, each story with its own title. (If it quacks like a duck …) Or does Kelso consider it an experimentally structured novel? The chapters/stories are more closely linked than first impression suggests. And, while many characters are here and gone, some do reappear, and in many cases the characters' plot lines intersect. The Black Dog, of course, is at the core of many of these tales. Interspersed in the narrative are your typical themes of love, sex, battles between the sexes, and side trips to discuss whether or not feminist agenda is at the heart of the Alien movie franchise. Throughout the book, the tendency of each segment is to speak of the Black Dog at least in passing, and/or fill in blanks, like a guidebook to this place called Ersatz.
On the other hand, the Androids tale for one could easily stand on its own as a story. And then there's the look: the sections vary in style such that their unity is obscured. One chapter is a comic. Inner City Red is a three part screenplay—in which, btw, Black Dog has a speaking part. Some of the text is poetry. Some text is presented in three, narrow columns (which reads much smoother than you might think). And part two of "Soft" is repeated, largely verbatim, folded like a soufflé into the longer part three, with some ingredients missing but others added. Maybe Kelso was inspired here by the Dada/surrealist technique later employed by Burroughs, of cutting and rearranging text. I'll have to ask him about that and other stuff, someday over a beer or two in Scotland. I plan to sneak a peek at his ID. Is a writer this interesting really only 27? And then there's the earlier matter. Where do you really come from, sir? Fess up.
--This review appeared in Literary Orphans Journal
May 26, 2019
Most of the time when I finish a book I’m thinking ‘that was good/great/OK etc. Right, what’s next?’ But finishing a book by Chris Kelso forces me to ignore that voice in my head and instead ponder further on exactly what I just read.
What is the book saying? Did I get it? Are my conclusions correct? Asking these questions makes me think back over the events of the book in an almost analytical sense, my enjoyment levels soaring to another level as I do so.
The Black Dog Who Eats the City resulted in exactly that. You could call this a novel, but it reads more like a collection of short stories, flash fictions, and poems. You’d be forgiven for thinking this was an anthology of sorts, each ‘piece’ adding to the backstory of the ‘thing’. This, of course, is a marvellous thing.
So this Black Dog, is it actually a living breathing dog? Well no, but yes, it does make an appearance at one point. This canine entity is eating the city, or is it eating the people, or their minds? Does it represent an illness, a madness, depression? I’m not sure entirely, maybe all three, which makes this book so amazing.
There are many characters in this story, most make fleeting cameos, some are referenced later on. But they all have one thing in common; they are trying to escape the Black Dog which is seemingly coming for them all. It tears families apart, feasts on people from the inside, and is responsible for many a stolen erection.
Apparently there’s an antidote to this sickness, The Cure. But can this be real? Some say it’s only a rumour, some refuse to believe and will stop at nothing to find it.
My favourite stories(?)/chapters(?) involved the characters Steve, a guy obsessed with the subtext of the movie Alien, and Bobby, a crazy ‘painter’ who’s anarchic outlook on life is both hilarious and saddening.
Some passages involve the struggles of the denizens in this dystopian nightmare, others are just downright weird. But obviously the weirdness is not just there for the sake of it. Kelso effortlessly paints a depressing picture of the world and its inhabitants with humour and darkness. This is transgressive fiction at its very best.
The thing I find with Chris Kelso’s writing is the ease at which you can follow the story, even if certain aspects don’t make perfect sense at first glance. There’re no pauses while you have to take a break and process what just happened, it just kind of flows perfectly.
I recently read Kelso’s I Dream of Mirrors and loved it so much I picked this one up straight away. I have a feeling I’m going to be picking up a few more once I finally get over the ride that was The Black Dog Eats the City.
What is the book saying? Did I get it? Are my conclusions correct? Asking these questions makes me think back over the events of the book in an almost analytical sense, my enjoyment levels soaring to another level as I do so.
The Black Dog Who Eats the City resulted in exactly that. You could call this a novel, but it reads more like a collection of short stories, flash fictions, and poems. You’d be forgiven for thinking this was an anthology of sorts, each ‘piece’ adding to the backstory of the ‘thing’. This, of course, is a marvellous thing.
So this Black Dog, is it actually a living breathing dog? Well no, but yes, it does make an appearance at one point. This canine entity is eating the city, or is it eating the people, or their minds? Does it represent an illness, a madness, depression? I’m not sure entirely, maybe all three, which makes this book so amazing.
There are many characters in this story, most make fleeting cameos, some are referenced later on. But they all have one thing in common; they are trying to escape the Black Dog which is seemingly coming for them all. It tears families apart, feasts on people from the inside, and is responsible for many a stolen erection.
Apparently there’s an antidote to this sickness, The Cure. But can this be real? Some say it’s only a rumour, some refuse to believe and will stop at nothing to find it.
My favourite stories(?)/chapters(?) involved the characters Steve, a guy obsessed with the subtext of the movie Alien, and Bobby, a crazy ‘painter’ who’s anarchic outlook on life is both hilarious and saddening.
Some passages involve the struggles of the denizens in this dystopian nightmare, others are just downright weird. But obviously the weirdness is not just there for the sake of it. Kelso effortlessly paints a depressing picture of the world and its inhabitants with humour and darkness. This is transgressive fiction at its very best.
The thing I find with Chris Kelso’s writing is the ease at which you can follow the story, even if certain aspects don’t make perfect sense at first glance. There’re no pauses while you have to take a break and process what just happened, it just kind of flows perfectly.
I recently read Kelso’s I Dream of Mirrors and loved it so much I picked this one up straight away. I have a feeling I’m going to be picking up a few more once I finally get over the ride that was The Black Dog Eats the City.
May 17, 2014
This may very well prove to be my favorite novel of 2014 come December 31st.
Kelso's work is consistently hit or miss for me. I found Transmatic to be a charming exploration of Scientology and mind control, whereas Moosejaw Frontier just didn't gel with me on an enjoyable level at all.
With this book, Kelso has finally managed to channel something meaningful on multiple levels through to me as a reader.
Black Dog Eats the City came across to me as both a collection of vignettes as well as a straight forward novel. I couldn't comfortably set it entirely in either classification, as it transcends publishing mediums to bring a well crafted meditation on the roots of depression, addiction, ennui and disease. Kelso culls the herd mentality to deliver up these haunting observations I could easily identify with in my own life:
"Not long ago, I was so certain she was the cure. I tell her I have an illness and that I want to die alone. But she won’t hear it. She tries to fill my life with hope and reassurances that a cure is on the horizon. I cannot write."
I often find that being in a relationship stifles my own creativity, and it seems like Kelso feels the same way.
"You love me because I’m the only woman who was ever nice to you. That’s not love, that’s gratitude. Well, I’ve had it up to here with your gratitude."
Once again, Kelso chisels away at the spectre of gender relations to capture raw truth here. How many men out there stay with women because they made it easy for them to assert themselves or they feel morally obligated to them and thus, no meaningful sensuality is to be found?
But perhaps the most vitriolic and haunting section of the novel comes with the brief vignette known as 'Mainstream Psychopath' in which the ultimate embodiment of antisocial psychopathy meets the mosquito-like representation of mainstream acceptance. It is in this short segue that we arrive at an explicit understanding of what it means to fly 'under the radar' as a folk artist in the underground, to break through to eventual success, what is lost in the process, etc.
Read this, and do so at a languid pace, as if the Black Dog has overtaken your own immune system.
Kelso's work is consistently hit or miss for me. I found Transmatic to be a charming exploration of Scientology and mind control, whereas Moosejaw Frontier just didn't gel with me on an enjoyable level at all.
With this book, Kelso has finally managed to channel something meaningful on multiple levels through to me as a reader.
Black Dog Eats the City came across to me as both a collection of vignettes as well as a straight forward novel. I couldn't comfortably set it entirely in either classification, as it transcends publishing mediums to bring a well crafted meditation on the roots of depression, addiction, ennui and disease. Kelso culls the herd mentality to deliver up these haunting observations I could easily identify with in my own life:
"Not long ago, I was so certain she was the cure. I tell her I have an illness and that I want to die alone. But she won’t hear it. She tries to fill my life with hope and reassurances that a cure is on the horizon. I cannot write."
I often find that being in a relationship stifles my own creativity, and it seems like Kelso feels the same way.
"You love me because I’m the only woman who was ever nice to you. That’s not love, that’s gratitude. Well, I’ve had it up to here with your gratitude."
Once again, Kelso chisels away at the spectre of gender relations to capture raw truth here. How many men out there stay with women because they made it easy for them to assert themselves or they feel morally obligated to them and thus, no meaningful sensuality is to be found?
But perhaps the most vitriolic and haunting section of the novel comes with the brief vignette known as 'Mainstream Psychopath' in which the ultimate embodiment of antisocial psychopathy meets the mosquito-like representation of mainstream acceptance. It is in this short segue that we arrive at an explicit understanding of what it means to fly 'under the radar' as a folk artist in the underground, to break through to eventual success, what is lost in the process, etc.
Read this, and do so at a languid pace, as if the Black Dog has overtaken your own immune system.
April 6, 2017
The story begins in the Slave State, in Wire City, the cell-block apartment of Lester Proctor and his family to be precise. After his wife and children succumb to "the Black Dog" and die, Lester begins a quest to find the mysterious cure, something that will rid his world of the black dog. I felt that, given the way the black dog is described, consuming it's victims and covering everything in a black shroud, it was a metaphor for depression. And the inhabitants of the Slave State certainly have enough to be depressed about! Yet, Kelso manages to make the story very entertaining, no doubt his masterful ability at creating colourful characters has something to do with it. Lester meets more than his fair share of loons and headcases on his quest. The author intersperses Lester's story with brief glimpses into the lives of others affected by the black dog, including two robot replicas (immitants) of the same man who seek love with each other, and bums Kricfalusi and Baby Guts. More than just a wacky road trip story, "The Black Dog..." also manages to say some very deep and very moving things regarding depression and the effect it can have on anyone at any time. But the author never dwells on the morbid for too long. You wouldn't last long in the Slave State if you did!
Two things are always guaranteed when you read a Chris Kelso book; you never know where this unique author is going to take you, and you know that, wherever it is, you are going to have a lot of fun along the way.
Two things are always guaranteed when you read a Chris Kelso book; you never know where this unique author is going to take you, and you know that, wherever it is, you are going to have a lot of fun along the way.
April 18, 2018
I read a lot of experimental fiction, and I love the way this story is presented: a bit of flash, some poetry, and even graphic content. It’s surreal, connected and yet not. I love the rawness and the grit reminiscent of any Mad Max style post-apocalyptic world, and if the Black Dog is worse than depression and there is a cure, what started it? What spreads it? Are Lester's family really dead or just brain dead? Maybe he will find what he’s looking for when he gets to Shell County where all the doctors are. If he ever gets there.
There’s a lot to chew on here, but I felt the overarching theme had to do with the decrepitude of the male ego. Everyone succumbs to the Black Dog, which can be likened to Alzheimer’s in way, but the male point of view is most dominant here with regard to failing bodies, failing libidos, failing relationships, and failing careers: Impotence through and through, and similar to Fight Club, the emasculation of the modern male takes a predominant position in the story. I mean, a great deal of time is put into a discussion of the “feminist agenda” the Alien movie franchise is accused of putting forward.
“Men are slaves to their nature; we are warriors one and all. That’s why things like marriage are a threat to this; it tethers the warrior to the family unit, castrates us of any real masculine identity)”
Then when a pair of synthetic humans (immitants) fall in love (all very illegal btw), they can't stand to have sex with each other while they look like the loser of a human they were modelled after. Good thing there's plastic surgery for robots. I guess the word immitant was taken quite literally when designing these androids who aren’t supposed to have an id or ego. Even more sadly true when the plastic surgeon gives one of the robots a lesson in love: “That’s all love is, just programming, well, self-sabotage really. Humans don’t fall in love anymore old boy. We know better. But you droids are all a self-absorbed bunch. You’re like flies crawling over each other.”
Later in the story we meet, Tom, who thinks sex “is just another form of violence,” and like aids, a sickness becomes weaponized. “There will be plenty more Claude’s to help me through… plenty more girls to take The Black Dog for a walk…” These are the words of a serial killer. Tom is a serial killer.
But Mario and Dmitri are best mates, both have lost everything of meaning in their lives when Mario confesses to thinking that he’s an alien, that his brethren will soon be coming to collect him, to save him from the Black Dog, and that he wants to take Dmitri with him as his specimen. Dima thinks his friend is one of two things: crazy or gay.
We end our stay in this world with Bobby, the epitome of ego justifying failure, as he describes his personality as having a “lack of social value, appeals to prurient interests, and is, of course, patently offensive…” He describes himself as pornography, as sub-culture, in order to seduce and manipulate his prey: sad lonely women on the wrong side of 40. He has needs. He thinks he’s a master con-man, until the Mainstream gets to him, which is probably worse, in my opinion, than the Black Dog.
Mr. Kelso works in riddles, in satire, in pipe bombs filled with feces-covered shrapnel. It’s a hard look at the desperation of men, how mediocrity rots the spirit. Maybe the only real way to escape the Black Dog is to upload your mind to Hollow Earth, or the Cloud as we call it now. Not sure why I thought of Ted Kaczynski after I finished reading this book, but I did.
There’s a lot to chew on here, but I felt the overarching theme had to do with the decrepitude of the male ego. Everyone succumbs to the Black Dog, which can be likened to Alzheimer’s in way, but the male point of view is most dominant here with regard to failing bodies, failing libidos, failing relationships, and failing careers: Impotence through and through, and similar to Fight Club, the emasculation of the modern male takes a predominant position in the story. I mean, a great deal of time is put into a discussion of the “feminist agenda” the Alien movie franchise is accused of putting forward.
“Men are slaves to their nature; we are warriors one and all. That’s why things like marriage are a threat to this; it tethers the warrior to the family unit, castrates us of any real masculine identity)”
Then when a pair of synthetic humans (immitants) fall in love (all very illegal btw), they can't stand to have sex with each other while they look like the loser of a human they were modelled after. Good thing there's plastic surgery for robots. I guess the word immitant was taken quite literally when designing these androids who aren’t supposed to have an id or ego. Even more sadly true when the plastic surgeon gives one of the robots a lesson in love: “That’s all love is, just programming, well, self-sabotage really. Humans don’t fall in love anymore old boy. We know better. But you droids are all a self-absorbed bunch. You’re like flies crawling over each other.”
Later in the story we meet, Tom, who thinks sex “is just another form of violence,” and like aids, a sickness becomes weaponized. “There will be plenty more Claude’s to help me through… plenty more girls to take The Black Dog for a walk…” These are the words of a serial killer. Tom is a serial killer.
But Mario and Dmitri are best mates, both have lost everything of meaning in their lives when Mario confesses to thinking that he’s an alien, that his brethren will soon be coming to collect him, to save him from the Black Dog, and that he wants to take Dmitri with him as his specimen. Dima thinks his friend is one of two things: crazy or gay.
We end our stay in this world with Bobby, the epitome of ego justifying failure, as he describes his personality as having a “lack of social value, appeals to prurient interests, and is, of course, patently offensive…” He describes himself as pornography, as sub-culture, in order to seduce and manipulate his prey: sad lonely women on the wrong side of 40. He has needs. He thinks he’s a master con-man, until the Mainstream gets to him, which is probably worse, in my opinion, than the Black Dog.
Mr. Kelso works in riddles, in satire, in pipe bombs filled with feces-covered shrapnel. It’s a hard look at the desperation of men, how mediocrity rots the spirit. Maybe the only real way to escape the Black Dog is to upload your mind to Hollow Earth, or the Cloud as we call it now. Not sure why I thought of Ted Kaczynski after I finished reading this book, but I did.
May 12, 2016
A thoughtful, well-written novel. The Black Dog is an incurable plague preying on the citizens of author Chris Kelso's Slave State. The story starts with a man who has lost his family and leaves his city in search of a cure. It continues with two clueless men who hit the road with doomed plans to sell a girl’s rotting teeth. From this grim beginning it weaves through the lives of several characters—some human, some not—who are all profoundly impacted by the Black Dog.
The novel uses experimental techniques, bold symbolism, mixed genres and a heavy dose of nihilism to deliver a powerful tale of human pain. It's definitely not for mainstream tastes. But for me the strength of the writing and the driving force of the themes keep the book from become a jagged and frustrating experience. It's sad, haunting, at times hilarious, and very, very smart.
The novel uses experimental techniques, bold symbolism, mixed genres and a heavy dose of nihilism to deliver a powerful tale of human pain. It's definitely not for mainstream tastes. But for me the strength of the writing and the driving force of the themes keep the book from become a jagged and frustrating experience. It's sad, haunting, at times hilarious, and very, very smart.
July 26, 2021
A Dick-esque, Palahnukian, Lynchian nightmare that's funny is the best way I can think to describe this.
Kelso is a Scottish writer I have become aware of in recent times and this was my first foray into his work. There are sure to be more after this loose collection of tales based in the same cities where The Black Dog is infecting the many denizens.
It's full of satire, horrific imagery and character's sleep-walking to their inevitable doom at the hands of a system that cannot be stopped. Well worth the time and I look forward to checking out more from Kelso.
Kelso is a Scottish writer I have become aware of in recent times and this was my first foray into his work. There are sure to be more after this loose collection of tales based in the same cities where The Black Dog is infecting the many denizens.
It's full of satire, horrific imagery and character's sleep-walking to their inevitable doom at the hands of a system that cannot be stopped. Well worth the time and I look forward to checking out more from Kelso.
May 18, 2014
This book was both an interesting and a difficult read. It is also a difficult volume to sum up. It isn't a novel, not in the traditional sense, nor is it really a collection of short stories. Each section of this book tells of happenings in a bleak future version of our world and some of these stories are connected by characters that know one another or appear in earlier sections of the book, but beyond that there is little consistency. Most sections are written in the traditional third person narrative most readers of novels and short fiction are use to, but there are also sections that are written in the first person, appear as comic strips, are poetic, and even one that's written as a screenplay.
Additional side note on style/format: I'm not sure if this is a new trend in writing I am unaware of or if this writer/publisher just has something against quotation marks, but the dialogue throughout this book is denoted by dashes instead of quotation marks. For the most part this was okay, but in a couple of places, where dashes were used also in the more traditional way, it was a bit confusing.
Some really nice things I'd like to say about the book: The world the author created seemed very real and I enjoyed the "gritty" nature of most of his characters. I even liked that the exact nature of the Black Dog remained unknown. Was it an illness, a demon, something made up? The reader is left not really knowing. I also feel Mr. Kelso is a very talented writer. I just wish, for this book, he'd picked a style/format and gone with it.
Additional side note on style/format: I'm not sure if this is a new trend in writing I am unaware of or if this writer/publisher just has something against quotation marks, but the dialogue throughout this book is denoted by dashes instead of quotation marks. For the most part this was okay, but in a couple of places, where dashes were used also in the more traditional way, it was a bit confusing.
Some really nice things I'd like to say about the book: The world the author created seemed very real and I enjoyed the "gritty" nature of most of his characters. I even liked that the exact nature of the Black Dog remained unknown. Was it an illness, a demon, something made up? The reader is left not really knowing. I also feel Mr. Kelso is a very talented writer. I just wish, for this book, he'd picked a style/format and gone with it.
October 14, 2020
Another discordant, surrealist endeavour from a writer who is way ahead of most.
An utterly sublime narrative gives beauty to the corrupt and controversial content. Is it a novel, or an anthology? By the end of it, it doesn’t even matter.
One thing is certain, in my view at least, Kelso is the future of existential fiction.
An utterly sublime narrative gives beauty to the corrupt and controversial content. Is it a novel, or an anthology? By the end of it, it doesn’t even matter.
One thing is certain, in my view at least, Kelso is the future of existential fiction.
January 12, 2019
Genre transcending gem
Great study of depression shown through the futuristic lens of dystopian science fiction. Deep and philosophical work with enough vulgarity and humor to never come off pretentious. Damn fine writing.
Great study of depression shown through the futuristic lens of dystopian science fiction. Deep and philosophical work with enough vulgarity and humor to never come off pretentious. Damn fine writing.
August 31, 2025
I wish the Hollow Earthers would make a comeback, because these Flat Earthers just don't do it for me.
October 23, 2014
What the hell did I just read?
January 27, 2016
1CThe only language spoken in Ersatz is insult. 1D
The trouble with sci-fi these days is that so much of it strikes as being antiquated, not like the forecasting of times to come as suggested by old classics as scribed by Verne or Wells, or lacking that vital dissociative, otherworldy feel as so eloquently portrayed by Frank Herbert or Isaac Asimov. The one issue many writers face and yet never really get to grips with is that the genre all too often runs down those tram lines of convention that I have mentioned before and detest. Of course there remain a host of authors who have produced works that lift the style to newer, unthought-of heights but by and large the run of the mill remains in situ.
Not the case with this Scot. Burroughs and Simak may be his influences, we all have those whose work shapes our thinking therefore affecting our writing, but this authors sheer sense of fun, his spotting the foibles of science fiction and spinning a humorous slant on them, is rather good. I mean, gay droids? One 19s who seek cosmetic surgery the better to enable their congress? Outbloodyrageous.
1CHell is other people. 1D
Black Dog Eats the City is a continuing series of self-contained stories within a story that bristles with energy. There is invention aplenty albeit in a mode easy to understand. Illustrated and met with some truly insane poetry. This novel provides the sauce that those who feed from it need. The Black Dog referenced is the same one as oft mentioned by Churchill but ten times worse, a contagion that has only one cure. Or does it? Here, we learn of Hollow Earth, a place where minds are downloaded enabling greater space and removal from our fragile existence.
1CMainframe inertia caused by a return to conscious dominion can alter ones state of mind. A burn out period of 20 minutes must be allowed in order for full reliable cognisance to return. By the time dependable awareness is restored it 19s necessary to plug back in. 1D
There is a comic section with some neat art and then the sub sections titled and large that intersect the linked narratives. Then there is Lester and his freaky road trip, a view inside Hollow Earth reveals a man shagging his daughter before she too contracts the virulent Black Dog.
I especially enjoyed 18Inner City Red. 19 The manner in which the story rotates on the 18Alien 19 film, its psychological meaning, its dark sexuality works well within the constraints of being written as though a screen play copying and mocking its inspiration.
I confess that I probably don 19t read as much of this stuff as perhaps I should. I was concerned that I would find this tedious, it wasn 19t. This was enjoyable, very much aimed at a young adult audience so I count my lucky stars to be included.
If anyone from the splendid Onerios Books reads this then I heartily recommend you and Chris Kelso speak. You have a lot in common.
The trouble with sci-fi these days is that so much of it strikes as being antiquated, not like the forecasting of times to come as suggested by old classics as scribed by Verne or Wells, or lacking that vital dissociative, otherworldy feel as so eloquently portrayed by Frank Herbert or Isaac Asimov. The one issue many writers face and yet never really get to grips with is that the genre all too often runs down those tram lines of convention that I have mentioned before and detest. Of course there remain a host of authors who have produced works that lift the style to newer, unthought-of heights but by and large the run of the mill remains in situ.
Not the case with this Scot. Burroughs and Simak may be his influences, we all have those whose work shapes our thinking therefore affecting our writing, but this authors sheer sense of fun, his spotting the foibles of science fiction and spinning a humorous slant on them, is rather good. I mean, gay droids? One 19s who seek cosmetic surgery the better to enable their congress? Outbloodyrageous.
1CHell is other people. 1D
Black Dog Eats the City is a continuing series of self-contained stories within a story that bristles with energy. There is invention aplenty albeit in a mode easy to understand. Illustrated and met with some truly insane poetry. This novel provides the sauce that those who feed from it need. The Black Dog referenced is the same one as oft mentioned by Churchill but ten times worse, a contagion that has only one cure. Or does it? Here, we learn of Hollow Earth, a place where minds are downloaded enabling greater space and removal from our fragile existence.
1CMainframe inertia caused by a return to conscious dominion can alter ones state of mind. A burn out period of 20 minutes must be allowed in order for full reliable cognisance to return. By the time dependable awareness is restored it 19s necessary to plug back in. 1D
There is a comic section with some neat art and then the sub sections titled and large that intersect the linked narratives. Then there is Lester and his freaky road trip, a view inside Hollow Earth reveals a man shagging his daughter before she too contracts the virulent Black Dog.
I especially enjoyed 18Inner City Red. 19 The manner in which the story rotates on the 18Alien 19 film, its psychological meaning, its dark sexuality works well within the constraints of being written as though a screen play copying and mocking its inspiration.
I confess that I probably don 19t read as much of this stuff as perhaps I should. I was concerned that I would find this tedious, it wasn 19t. This was enjoyable, very much aimed at a young adult audience so I count my lucky stars to be included.
If anyone from the splendid Onerios Books reads this then I heartily recommend you and Chris Kelso speak. You have a lot in common.
January 1, 2023
Wow. Kelso does it again. This book did and does so much for me. It’s reminds me of the time I first got into “transgressive” literature. Books like last exit to Brooklyn, requiem for a dream, and naked lunch all come to mind. The experience of reading tbdetc creates a dangerous nostalgia that is hard to explain. This book however does more than just that. Kelso manages to expand on what Burroughs and Selby did and create a new experience for his readers. This book is amazing. Also side note a great companion song to hear after reading this is the black eyed dog by Nick drake.
October 21, 2014
A collection of very strange short stories, set in the Kelso mythos (specifically, the urban shit hole that is "Wire city"). Kelso's prose is, as with Transmatic and A message from the slave state, difficult to contain in the sense that is goes beyond stylistic rules and common genre definitions; here, the reader'll find elements of science fiction, slipstream, satire, poetry and more, often times with stories, vignettes and other pieces overlapping several genres and styles at once. At times a challenging read, but hey - so is "the naked lunch" and some of Cortazar's works to.
Kelso's style is magnificent; that is a constant. At times he works the english language like a wizard and does stuff you'd never thought possible. In a few years from now, people will think of him as one of the very best.
Kelso's style is magnificent; that is a constant. At times he works the english language like a wizard and does stuff you'd never thought possible. In a few years from now, people will think of him as one of the very best.
January 30, 2022
Chris Kelso is quickly becoming one of my favourite authors. This book is simply brilliant! But be warned it is NOT for the faint of heart - this is some dark stuff.
It’ll also blow your head off. In a good way. Or maybe in a bad but meaningful way. One way or another your head is coming off. The brain-fuckery at work here makes me feel like I’m reading a 21st century Philip K. Dick.
It’ll also blow your head off. In a good way. Or maybe in a bad but meaningful way. One way or another your head is coming off. The brain-fuckery at work here makes me feel like I’m reading a 21st century Philip K. Dick.
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