Order THE MIND IS A RAZORBLADE here
I am here. I am now. I am awake.
I've always seen an underlying order of things in literature, but during my formative years, the landscape of cinema was absolute chaos. Hollywood was still reeling from the cocaine era and late night television looked like the 7th circle of hell. Thinking about this bygone era makes me profoundly nostalgic and yearning from that crazy, out the left field artistic experience that just doesn't happen anymore in this age of micromanaged marketing. Max Booth III's novel THE MIND IS A RAZORBLADE is a throwback to the good ol' days of unpredictable cinema. I'd say that Booth's entire body of work is guilty of that. This novel just happens to be his longest and most unhinged piece to date. Welcome back to the Far West of Creativity.
A man wakes up between two corpses, with no memory of who he is and what lead him in this position. His mind only sends quick and frail reminiscences to his lizard brain, in order to keep him alive. The man manages to make his way back to civilization, only to realize something has went terribly wrong. The city he's in is prey to a strange cult devoted to a demonic figure named Conundrae. It's far from being a safe place, but the man feels drawn into its corrupted reality and compelled to investigate on his past using a couple clues he found on his person. But is getting the answers always a good thing?
THE MIND IS A RAZORBLADE is an identity tale in the vein of Christopher Nolan's cult hit MEMENTO, except that it has a little bit of JUDGEMENT NIGHT and TERMINATOR in its molecular composition, too. I'm aware that I can't shut up about movies right now, and that THE MIND IS A RAZORBLADE actually is a novel, but Max Booth III has a highly visual style and a knack for creating vivid settings that few authors have. The novel's narrator reminded me of TERMINATOR's Kyle Reese for his strange ability to insert himself in a narrative that seems to be going on without him. THE MIND IS A RAZORBLADE is such a wild and unpredictable novel and the self-doubting, memory-less and hilariously out-of-place protagonist in the apocalyptic setting.
''I have some questions I've been wanting to ask you.''
Lamb raises his brow, as if I've no right to even be in the same city as him. And maybe I don't.
''Yeah,'' he says, ''I've got some questions for you too.''
I hold out my hands, forming a shield.
''Before you even ask, these are my funny bunnies, and no, you cannot have them.''
So, the contrast between the overwhelmed-yet-efficient protagonist and the ongoing apocalypse of THE MIND IS A RAZORBLADE was, I thought, a huge fun facor in the novel. It's a little dissonant at first, but the more data Max Booth III is giving you about the situation, the more it starts sounding like a challenge: will you piece the story back together before Booth does it for you? It can be frustrating that support characters keep being deliberately vague, but if you show patience and bear with the bigger picture, there is a mystery reminiscent of the good ol' days of LOST emerging, I know, another cross-medium reference, but it's a positive thing because me gusta some LOST like a motherfucker.
My enjoyment of books/films is separated with invisible lines in my mind, a bit like a football field. The more distance a novel goes, the closer it gets to the transcenden status/end zone. THE MIND IS A RAZORBLADE didn't quite get there, but it stopped inside the 20 yards line. I enjoyed it a lot, but it felt too controled at times. The first person narration and the identity quest can feel very restrictive at times, especially in such a wild and fun setting including a mysterious Satanic cult and the downfall of society. Not every book has the duty of being transcendent though and I do think THE MIND IS A RAZORBLADE is well worth reading. It's a novel that made me profoundly nostalgic, yet hopeful that creativity and originality aren't dead in 2014.