(pb; 2021: serial-vignette anthology. “Foreword” by J.J. Sinisi.)
Review
Writing about Viharo’s work is different than reviewing most other authors’ works because of Viharo’s fierce, neo-pulp and pop-culture quippy insular logic, surroundings, and characters, which mix explicit lust, violence, melancholy, jubilation and other relatable emotions in intuitive slip-slide “cross dissolves” (Viharo’s words). True to that creative and intensely personal adherence, Fever’s sixty-three serial-vignettes, originally published online in serial form during the initial COVID-19 outbreak, force stick-with-it readers to let go of real-world preconceptions and just enjoy the go-damn-near-everywhere ride (provided its not far from a tiki bar, a retro-cool movie soundtrack, or a salvation-or-damnation vixen). While Fever continues in the vein of relatively recent Viharo books (e.g., Things I Do When I’m Awake, Vihorror! Cocktales of Sex and Death and his Mental Case Files trilogy), it reflects further maturation, less wallowing-in-despair in its often-clever prose.
Fever’s loose storyline, such as it is, takes place during a pandemic where Vic time, place, and character travels through vivid, possibly crazy, and highly personal scenarios, any of which are merely titular fever dreams or reality. Vic has guides for this wild rollercoaster─namely his wife (Val, who’s appeared in previous Valentine books and stories), Rose (another Vic-chronicled lover) and Harold Floyd, a client, a demon of sorts, and who-knows-what-else.
The vignette chapters are short, possibly excessive for those who like tight, logical narratives. As I’ve written before, fans of David Lynch, Jim Jarmusch and other offbeat creative types may revel in this blink-and-everything-changes anthology, with its strangely satisfying and collection-true ending, one worth owning.
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