Part political thriller, part Thomas Harris freak show, and part enemy-to-love story, Minotaur feels like three disparate manuscripts combined into one. As a result, the tone changes wildly. Characters meant for baroque romance flit in and out of contact with themed psychopaths. New characters in new countries are continually introduced as the pagecount dwindles. With a hundred pages remaining, the players are in place and the stakes are finally set. Then, clumsily, it's over. To Farris' credit, the plot lines mostly converge at the end. Nothing is straight up forgotten, but I'd be lying if I said every element received proper closure. Farris seems to be a skilled writer who perhaps phoned this one in.
Could have done without the pimp side plot. Or all the references to bodily functions. Clearly, these were intended to make the cast less super heroic, but in practice it meant that these comic book people spend a lot of time peeing themselves before some new display of hyper competence. John Farris was not immune to the descriptive excesses of the nineteen eighties.
Full disclosure: I found this book on a free shelf and picked it up for the cover. I was convinced that the time had come for me to take a chance and read something with no foreknowledge. Travel outside the canon, open myself to new experience. I got what I (didn't) pay for, an oddity.