APPLETOWN NIGHTMARE

A strange species of beetle throws a venture capitalist’s life into chaos in Brannon’s debut novel.

Herman Glüber is an unethical, athletic, homophobic, cocaine-using, impeccably groomed dealmaker at a Seattle venture capital firm. He has an enviable office in the iconic Smith Tower and a beautiful girlfriend named Margot—though he’s not hugely fond of Margot’s 12-year-old son, Ethan, who has a peculiar interest in insects. Herman has just closed a deal on an asset he’s particularly excited about—an apple orchard on the banks of the Wenatchee River that can be sliced into valuable lots—but when he goes out celebrating with his co-workers, he encounters a a tarot card reader who gives him a dire warning. Madame Laverne Korzha de las Bulgarias tells him that there’s something wrong with the deal, that someone he looks up to will turn into a monster, and that someone will die. Part of Herman’s problem is the appearance in Seattle of an invasive species of beetle that feeds on electricity. He’s not the only one suffering, though, as a whole cast of intersecting lives scrambles to deal with the power outages and unusual happenings that plague Washington state. These include Herman’s colleague, hipster-yuppie Loven Boilee; the representative of the apple orchard’s undocumented workers, Lupita Bevilacqua, who’s spurned Herman’s advances in the past; Jodie Cavendish, a CIA operative on the trail of the dangerous beetle; Saint Stephen Rheese, a marijuana smuggler trying to save his sick niece; and Duncan Klevit, Herman’s boss, who’s also a serial killer. If they can’t get a handle on the situation, the beetles may well turn Washington into a version of their native region of Inner Mongolia: a technological desert known as Deadland.

Brannon’s prose is dry and precise, which lends itself to moments of terror and humor, by turns: “Mass hysteria and panic ensued when the assembly of horror movie fans were forced to evacuate the Cinerama as the bugs shorted out the power….It was already a busy night in Seattle. The Eagles were in town for their final farewell tour…singing ‘Peaceful Easy Feeling.’ ” Despite the messy, disaster-movie premise (and the opening pages of joke blurbs from people with such names as “Opal Winfrey” and “George Slanders”), Brannon generally plays the main plot pretty straight. Some scenes are quite tense, and a gripping sense of dread grows as one goes deeper into the story. Herman starts out as a thoroughly intolerable character, but the emergency offers him opportunities to evolve, Scrooge-like, into something better. If the novel has a flaw, it is its nearly 450-page length, which is achieved less by a proliferation of events than by the fact that nearly every scene is drawn out a bit too much. Even so, the characters and prose style are generally compelling, and the cartoonishly apocalyptic scenario manages to feel relevant and chillingly believable in this age of unlikely plagues. Readers will find much to enjoy here, and they’ll likely look forward to Brannon’s next offering.

A sprawling and inventive dark comedy.