Generation Bloodbath by Tim Curran is one of those things I want to keep poking with a stick until I figure out what the hell it is. A novel? Maybe. A deconstructed poem? Probably not, but I see it trying to stitch itself together. The most accurate description might be the surreal, steam-of-conscious ramblings of people living in a blood-filled dystopia, but even that doesn't feel quite right.
Formatted as a numbered list of items from 1-666, this weird collection of sentences reads like a post-apocalyptic mess that sometimes takes the form of a story but keeps losing itself to the most bleak and disjointed delusions you can barely piece together. But that's not a bad thing. It just means you should avoid going into this expecting a linear plot. Generation Bloodbath isn't about being easy. From the start, it forces you to wade through visceral descriptions of burnt corpses, decapitated babies, hints of overbearing regimes, and thick, never-ending pools of blood. And each step has a price, cutting you just a little bit deeper as you continue through the war-torn world Curran throws you into.
In a way, this feels like scrolling through violent TikTok clips while your brain frantically tries to make sense of the random scenes of tragedy and gore. The loop seems never-ending, trapping you in scenes of pain, desolation, and corruption. Eventually, it fades into the background, leaving you a little worse off for it.
If you are into giving yourself depression, pick it up.
Comments