Disciple Of The Dog [Paperback]

Disciple of the Dog is R. Scott Bakker's second non-fantasy novel (after 2008's Neuropath). While most fantasy readers are probably still most familiar with the author for his Second Apocalypse series, venturing out of the fantasy genre for this noir-ish detective novel is an excellent idea because it's an entertaining and unique read that will keep you fascinated to the very end.

The novel's two main attractions are its protagonist, Disciple ("Diss") Manning, and its prose. As for the first, Disciple is a foul-mouthed, highly cynical, down-on-his-luck private detective with a unique ability: he is unable to forget anything he's heard. Regardless (or thanks to) this gift (or curse), he is a grim, misanthropic serial womanizer who'd rather be brutally honest and say "oh well" later than compromise now. While cynical, jaded private eyes aren't anything new, R. Scott Bakker takes things to an entirely new level here. Let's just say that if you don't enjoy books with unlikable main characters, Disciple of the Dog isn't for you.

However, Disciple's attitude leads directly to the second big strength of this novel: the prose. Disciple of the Dog sounds as if it's narrated by the late, great George Carlin at his sharpest and darkest. Disciple's observations are often incisive, very funny and painfully true. While the novel has a solid missing person/whodunnit plot, the true pleasure of reading it is the fact that there's a quotable line on every page. Diss's unique ability also leads to an interesting narrative device: he can "play back" conversations in his mind. As the plot develops, some of those earlier conversations take on new meanings or reveal additional details.

As for the plot: two distraught parents hire Disciple to look for their missing daughter, Jennifer Bonjour. Complicating the case is the fact that "Dead Jennifer" (as Diss affectionately calls her) was a member of a bizarre charismatic cult called the Framers, who believe that what we perceive as reality is actually an illusion, and that we live five billion years in our own future. Diss teams up with a journalist (after he tries to seduce her, of course) to investigate the cult and the circumstances of Jennifer's disappearance.

In the end, Disciple of the Dog is more interesting as a look into the life and mind of Diss Manning than as an actual murder mystery, but the novel's plot does have a few surprising twists that'll keep you guessing until the very end. Thanks to Diss Manning's dark but often funny tone, this book is simply a blast from start to finish. If you're in the mood for a noir-ish detective novel with a fascinating, highly cynical main character, grab a copy of Disciple of the Dog.

If Philip Marlowe were to roam the back streets of today's cities, he might bear at least a slight resemblance to Disciple Manning, the protagonist of R. Scott Bakker's mystery novel, Disciple of the Dog. They're both tough-talking tough guys with a special affinity for the dark recesses of society. Manning is a troubled ex-soldier -- he fought in Iraq in the first Gulf War -- with a ceaseless hunger for pot and sex. He is, of course, fiendishly handsome, but he still manages to alienate women with his crude and usually unwelcome honesty.

However, Manning's most notable distinguishing feature is his memory, which sets him apart from Philip Marlowe and, apparently, the rest of the human race as well. It's been the subject of university lab tests for many years: he cannot forget ANYTHING. Now, this is not your run-of-the-mill eidetic memory, which is fundamentally visual. In fact, his memory of the written word doesn't seem to be the equal of his memory of the conversations and confrontations he's had in the course of three decades of a topsy-turvy life. He remembers everything ever said to him by anybody. Everything. Everybody. And not just the words, but the expressions, the body language, the intonation, and the context, including everyone else in the picture.

Disciple Manning is not a happy man. In fact, from time to time he despairs of humanity, having what he believes to be a far more accurate picture of human behavior than just about anyone else, and as a result has slit his wrists on several occasions. Somehow, though, he manages to pull through.

In Disciple of the Dog, Manning is hired by the wealthy parents of a 21-year-old woman who has disappeared from the cult headquarters where she's been living for two years. The scene is a small town in rural Pennsylvania, a former industrial center now shrunk to a fraction of its previous size. In the course of investigating the cult, a small operation led by a former UC Berkeley professor of . . . guess what? cults . . . Manning encounters another unusual organization that has set down roots in the same town. It's a neo-Nazi "church" led by a clique of ex-cons from the Aryan Brotherhood, and it appears to own the town. Manning rockets between believing that first one, then the other of these evil-seeming organizations is responsible for the young woman's disappearance and, he firmly believes, her death.

Bakker's writing style is lively, to say the least. The tale is told in Manning's interior voice, which is rich with imagery, profane, and endlessly engaging. The story is intricately plotted, though that's difficult for the reader to see until Manning reveals key points in retrospect as he sorts through his memories. The book is full of surprises. It's a lot of fun.
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Now here is a book you should own. I am 54 pages into it and have had to put the book down 6 times because I was laughing so hard--had to leave the room my girlfriend was sleeping in the last time.
Back to the pleasure.............