In the neon wreckage of Cyclone City, a reluctant killer is pulled back into a war between spirit and machine.
After a year in a monastery, Kentaro returns to find his city overrun by death cults, biotech prophets, and resurrected gods. His body isn’t his own. His sword talks. And the past he can’t remember is the key to a future none of them understand.
As reality begins to unravel, Kentaro must survive factions fighting to rewrite the world itself—one ideology, one corpse, one divine circuit at a time.
David J. Osborne’s Gods Fare No Better is a chaotic, magic-laced cyberpunk tale that darts between surrealism, satire, and sincerity. It’s messy in places, but undeniably imaginative.
The Good:
One of the book’s main strengths is its cast of colourful and memorable characters. Figures like Zuno, Cielo Vargas, Nurari, the Buffalo King, Sasuke (in its eventual form), Little Stinker all bring energy and style to the story. They feel like half-mythic figures drawn from fever dreams and manga, and they help keep the book vibrant throughout.
Osborne also does well in creating strange, original settings: a cyberpunk rodeo and a suicide clinic are a few examples. These glimpses into this alternate near future, however fleeting, give the story a welcome texture and keep the pace snappy. And speaking of pace—this is a fast-moving book. We whip through multiple locales, battles, and plot shifts quickly, which works well in a story that leans into pulp stylings.
Another highlight is the integration of magic realism. Unlike many cyberpunk books that double down on tech-noir cynicism, Gods Fare No Better injects a surprising spiritual and magical current into its DNA. The author clearly knows the language and logic of magic, and it adds a sense of authenticity..
The humour also mostly lands—it’s wry and weird in a way that suits the material. While it rarely goes beyond a smirk, it's consistent and helps keep things from getting too self-serious.
The Less-Good:
The Japanese elements—especially names and tropes—felt off. Characters names like the Tsukamoto district, Sasuke, Kentaro, Ryu, Tetsuo etc come across more like borrowed Japanese aesthetics (real life persons to manga), than something deeply understood or integrated. Compare that to a name like Cielo Vargas, which feels much more grounded and intentional. There’s a missed opportunity here to either research more deeply or avoid pastiche.
There was one section that felt directly lifted from Tetsuo: The Iron Man, and I felt the author could have handled the homage with a bit more subtlety or originality.
The protagonist is another weak spot. Even with the improvements made in this rewrite (particularly around the sword subplot), he still feels like a bit of a cipher—a “Joe Average” surrounded by far more interesting supporting characters. Mika, his love interest, also was a kind of a walking cliche in the first editions of these books, but the new rewrite 'fixes' the problem. Still, it’s clear that characters like Zuno steal the show, and i was particularly keen on Cielo from the main cast as well.
While I'm already enamoured with the book's cast of villains, a bit more detail would have made them even more compelling. On paper, characters like Little Stinker (bodes well for possible future introduced Yuru-Kyara characters), Hammerhead Shark, The Ruins, The Rodeo Affiliates, Mantis Blade and his little crew of cyberpunk mercs, and the Rot Boys sound fantastic. But in practice, they don't quite stick enough. A bit more time spend with each—just thirty seconds of character work—would’ve gone a long way. Osborne could take a cue from something like Vampire Hunter D, and how it handles it's lower-tier villains.
Helwig, in particular, feels misaligned—his blend of Nordic(?) and samurai elements never quite clicks. I mean the samurai boss fight is a bit of a cliche. And i appreciate the effort to liven it up with a blend of cultures. But perhaps it touched my uncanny valley instincts, something feels off and inauthentic.
Stylistically, the prose is functional and clear, and sometimes funny—but also a bit too “wink-wink” and surface-level for my taste. It doesn’t approach the poetic heights suggested by its title, which directly quotes Cormac McCarthy but never reaches his level of language or depth. Occasionally, the book leans too hard into “edgy” territory, which can result in passages that feel more juvenile than daring.
Final Thoughts:
Gods Fare No Better is a book with vivid ideas, real personality, and a pulse. It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t aim for perfection—it aims for speed, style, and strangeness. In many ways, that works in its favour. If i came out a bit too crass in my critique, it is because i hope my feedback is worth something, i had a good time and i still give it 4 stars.
Been fortunate to read this series in a few different versions but this really is the most striking version. And it's the most striking version of what cyberpunk can be. I often feel like cyberpunk's been stuck in what Gibson laid down forty years ago and what Stephenson riffed on thirty years ago, but it's wild to see a novel that takes the best of Gibson (technomagic thriller) and the best of Stephenson (laugh out loud humor) and then combines it with the ultraviolence of Akira and everything that makes J David Osborne the kind of writer he is.
This is a wild, violent, hilarious, and fascinating ride through a dystopic cyberpunk city but also a version of heaven and hell that could only come out of the world Osborne creates here. This novel is also just a kitchen sink of kitchen sinks, which I mean in the best ways possible. It has everything! So many elements will keep you turning pages, from the thrilling structure, the humor, and even the surprising emotional core bleeding through certain moments. For a world so defined by isolation and loneliness, our main cast finds hope and a future through friendship. And each are unlikely friendships but that makes them feel all the more realistic.
I've been saying for years that cyberpunk needs to evolve and broaden its horizons, and I'd say Gods Fare No Better is the start of something new here.
J. David Osborne is one of my favorite writers, and definitely top 10 dead or alive. This book is a masterpiece, his magnum opus. There’s so much happening I found myself rereading whole chapters, and not because the book was difficult to understand, but because I wanted to savor special moments and make sure I didn’t miss certain parts. This book is full of insane ultraviolence and moments of love and despair that pull on your heartstrings. Memorable characters like Zuno the deer man, or the World Serpent, which is exactly what it sounds like. (Personally, I’m a Truther and I believe the World Serpent is a psyop, but you’ll get to that.)
If you’re a fan of Cyberpunk 2077, Blade Runner (the new one, I ain’t never watch the old joint because it’s too old), Tokyo Gore Police, strange designer drugs sold as bath salts or plant food at non-chain gas stations, Sweet Home Alabama (the movie, not the song) Com Truise, Kel Tec and KRISS Vector guns, and those anime-style cargo pants with straps and multiple pockets that Japanese fashion influencers wear, then this is the book for you.
Gods Fare No Better is a rich book with a spiritual cyberpunk heart at the center, full of humor, cinematic prowess, memorable action scenes, and masculine prose. J. David Osborne takes diverse range of influences including Takashi Miike, spirituality, cult films, anime, and manga, and filters it through his brilliant imagination and witty sensibilities. This is sharp, wild cyberpunk narrative that feels like a movie you can’t get enough of.
Try to imagine a cyberpunk city shot through with samurai noir, ambergris fungal funk, anime animism, and some gnostic spirituality. And a ton of splatter. It’s loud, it’s ugly, it’s beautiful.
Try and keep up with the breakneck plot and the inventiveness on every page… or don’t. Just let the thing wash over you.
This novel won’t be for everyone. That’s what makes it cool.
J David Osborne is a genius! This book might just be his magnum opus. It has everything: telepathic fungal rhizomes, techno-spirituality, hysterically funny action set pieces, and lots of dick jokes.
Apparently more books are to follow in this world, but this first entry may just be era-defining. I am not even kidding. This is where genre writing should be heading!
J. David Osborne’s vision of cyberpunk is tangled in deer-headed robocops, talking swords, and a digital afterlife that charges rent. This is the closest a book has ever come to watching anime.