Like every detective learns who can't leave well enough alone, I should have quit while I was ahead. Instead I went and got myself in too deep, and learned things I'd have been happier not to.
I reviewed the First book in this series, "Image of the Beast" quite favorably. I found it to be a compellingly seedy little story, about a detective named Childe who went to solve the mystery of several horrific snuff films being mailed around Las Angeles, and got himself into a world of monsters. It was an intriguing take on 'monsters' I thought - that werewolves, vampires, ghosts and what-have-you's were, in actuality, all some sort of... ...well, it was kept fairly mysterious (One of the baddies DID explain it, but was he just lying? Entirely possible) what they REALLY were, but the practical nature of them was a bunch of hedonistic, sadistic and amoral MONSTERS who had been woven horribly into history and civilization. Though Childe came out on top, managing to kill a few, it ultimately concluded with that good old adage of "There are some things best left alone", because there were always MORE of those beings out there, and they were being nice enough to Childe to tell him to 'drop it, don't bother us, and we'll never bother you again'.
...But then I read Blown, and here's where things got a little stupid.
Farmer decides to drop any ambiguity in this book about the nature of the beings, and explains them in intricate detail. They are, in fact, two different species, both energy-based shape-shifters, who have the absurdly ridiculous names of 'tocs' and 'ogs'. They teleported themselves to earth, fought with eachother a bit, and now can't go home. What's their plan to go home?
Why, it's detective Childe himself. Because, wouldn't you know it, he's secretly a SPECIAL CHOSEN ONE, a half-human half-toc, who has the special psychic powers necessary to operation the special teleportation device that will get all the aliens home.
There are few things I hate in stories more than when an average everyman/everywoman who was, in the first part of a story just an average schmo who gets caught up in things bigger than themselves, turns out to have secretly been a super-special chosen one all along. It feels utterly made up on the spot, as if the author couldn't possibly have had it in mind from the start and only later decided "hey why not", and it negates a lot of what makes a character appealing.
But this is far from the only sin of Blown.
Where I enjoyed the sick, depraved weirdness of the first book, now all the pervert stuff just feels like formula. Worse, it feels like LAZY formula. There was a logic in the first book to the prevalence of sex; the monsters were murdering hedonists with a secret world within the world, and descending into this world meant slowly becoming immersed in all these perversions. But now in Blown all the sex stuff just feels baked in to everything, less like a story decision and more like the author just really wanted to narrate some kinky fantasies. The worst I thought was the set of chapters where Detective Childe's ex-wife re-appeared after being kidnapped by the monsters, and she proceeded to describe her imprisonment, which involved, sparing no details, lots of exposition of various sexual acts she performed with her captors (Yes I know, it wasn't REALLY Sybil, but it was supposed to have been acting like her).
A very strange addition to the book was in the form of 'Forrest J Ackerman', a horror enthusiast and comic-creator who gets roped into things because his beloved 'dracula' painting is stolen by the monsters (For no reason other than they just wanted it). As the book goes on to describe him obsessively needing to get out his comic, Vampirella, I stopped and said to myself "Wait a second... isn't Vampirella a real comic?" I went and looked it up, and lo and behold, Forrest J Ackerman is a real man. Why did Farmer put the creator of Vampirella into this story? I don't know, but it was a strange extra detail.
In the end, I feel myself left with the little pieces of wisdom that say "Less is more". The beginning of 'Image of the Beast' feels charmingly quaint now, with Childe provoked to take up the case by watching a seedy video of his partner being murdered on-screen. I may read 'Image' again one day, and recommend it to others! ...But I'll tell them to stop right there, and not proceed to 'Blown'.