BAD FORM

In this debut fantasy, a man stumbles into an adventure and a potential romance in an otherworldly land.

University of Alabama computer programmer Billy Wise uses a sick day to explore his farmland. He’s armed with a machete in case he runs into a rattlesnake or copperhead and, indeed, spots an enormous snake. Recalling a cryptic riddle in a newspaper that cited rattlesnakes, he follows this reptile into an old clawfoot bathtub—right into a bizarre world of talking animals, a unicorn, and a beautiful woman named Soapy. There’s also the huge, surprisingly amiable snake called Bogus, who takes Billy into “The House,” a seemingly magical, labyrinthine place that defies logic. It can send people to such cities as medieval Canterbury, and a train ride (inside The House) is one way to move from room to room. But while Billy mingles with warmhearted individuals, like Soapy’s shape-shifting sister, Alexandra, it’s not an entirely benevolent world. Mr. and Mrs. Snelling trade off as administrators of The House. Now, it’s Mrs. Snelling’s turn, and she doesn’t want Lady Wisdom (who’s Soapy) interfering with her rule. So she kidnaps Soapy to send her somewhere far away—or to something worse. Billy may just be an “ordinary jerk” and divorced back in Tuscaloosa, but over here, he wields his machete like a sword for battling vicious clackers (creatures that resemble wild coat hangers). He, Bogus, and others search for Soapy in the unnavigable House and face off against the fearsome Snellings, who’ve been in charge for an impossibly long time.

For much of Taylor’s quirky book, readers will be as confused as Billy. The hero, for example, has no clue where he is and tends to go where others push him, even if it means applying for a mysterious job. But Billy’s perpetual uncertainty makes him a relatable protagonist in a world of unexplainable sights. His dialogue likewise teems with hesitant, vocalized pauses, leading some to believe his name is “Uh Billy.” Still, his fascination with and attraction to Soapy ostensibly drives him, while Bogus acts as a reliable guide. Notwithstanding the story’s surreal environment, the author’s descriptions paint a clear picture, from vines that “swayed overhead like endless clusters of mating snakes” to a cobweb-laden room of weathered furniture and a lamp “cast in the form of a nude woman balancing an amber globe atop her head.” This enjoyable fantasy is replete with comedy, much of which comes courtesy of Bogus, who undermines snake stereotypes. He’s a loyal reptile with an affinity for whiskey who delivers often absurd “Bogus Dictums.” “Each and every animal,” he tells Billy, “is sad after sex.” On the other hand, the Snellings are an unnerving duo; they have power that likely can’t be measured and, most disturbingly, remind everyone of a specific someone they know. That’s not unlike gods, but Taylor retains a sense of ambiguity surrounding characters and origins until making a more overt theological connection later in the novel. While the story has a distinct resolution, there are threads left for a sequel, such as a character who inexplicably vanishes.

A delightfully peculiar and dreamlike tale with a playful, indelible cast.