3 April, 2002

The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove
Christopher Moore
1999
304 pp

Trent and Chad put me in the mood for some Chris Moore; lucky for me I had this in my stack-o-unread-books.

Chris Moore writes books about messed-up people who find themselves in messed-up situations (turning into/falling in love with a vampire, living in a town attacked by a demon/sea monster, organ theft disguised as religion, stuff like that). As they deal with the weird situation at hand, his protagonists overcome their personality flaws, or at the very least, learn how to get through life and accomplish something meaningful, in spite of the flaws. Minor characters and villains often end up being gratuitously eaten alive (by vampires, demons, sea monsters, sharks, cannibals, stuff like that). Most of his plots, taken by themselves, verge on grim and horrific, but it's hard to notice that, because his writing is so damn funny.

The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove follows this prescription. A sea lizard, driven by desire for tasty treats and an even stronger desire to get it on, invades Pine Cove, a smallish town on the California Central Coast. The book follows a gaggle of characters as they first learn about, and then try to solve the problem of the lizard in their midst. Few, if any of them, are what you'd call "mentally well-balanced" or "well socialized." The main characters are:

Additionally, there's a plethora of weird minor characters (many of whom get eaten by the Sea Beast). Oh, and did I mention that the Sea Beast's presence is making everybody in town incredibly horny?

Lust Lizard re-uses the setting of Pine Cove; the town and at least four of the minor characters appeared in Moore's 1992 book, Practical Demonkeeping. I can't really blame him, it's a good setting, and one which Moore undoubtedly knows well; the "About the Author" blurb says that he lives on the Central Coast, near the Big Sur.

Pine Cove was a decorative town-- built for show-- only one degree more functional than a Disneyland attraction and decidedly lacking in businesses and services that catered to residents rather than tourists. The business district included ten art galleries, five wine-tasting rooms, twenty restaurants, eleven gift and card shops, and one hardware store.
I recently took a vacation, driving down the CA Central Coast on U.S. Highway 1, and I stayed overnight in a town which could have easily served as the model for Pine Cove, although I'm sure there are many little towns of that sort in the area. (If you're ever in Cambria, CA, do yourself a favor and have dinner at a restaurant called Robin's Restaurant. You won't regret it.)

In general, I enjoy Moore's books. However, there's a consistent element in his writing which bothers me: his characters, female characters in particular, often display a callous indifference to human suffering. The worst example in the books I've read is, of course, the villainess in Island of the Sequined Love Nun, and if she were the only example, it wouldn't bother me so much-- after all, she is the villain. However, that character has cousins in every book of his I've read so far. The ones in this book are psychaiatrist Val Riordin, who for most of the book is more concerned with her own material well-being than with the mental health of her patients (and who, (MINOR SPOILER!) like the equally self-centered Jody in Bloodsucking Fiends, gets matched up with a decent, geeky guy who she TOTALLY doesn't deserve), and Molly Michon, who feels no compunction at leading people to their deaths in the gut of Steve the Sea-Creature. Of course, there are mitigating circumstances (Val learns the error of her ways and Molly is mentally ill and also saved some other people from being eaten), but it's a character trait Moore uses time and again, and I have a really hard time liking people like that, even if they are fictional. Especially if they're supposed to be the heroines and heroes.

The first time I read any of Moore's books, I read three in a row, and the novelty was starting to pale by the end of the third. I wasn't entirely sure if I'd liked him because he was actually good, or if it was just because he was different (with all his books being "different" in the same way). Lust Lizard is the first Moore I've read since then, and I'm happy to say that it was enjoyable. While there is a certain degree of sameness in style and characterization in his novels (at least, in all four that I've read thus far), it's only irritating if you read several of of them in a row.