In Olson’s fantasy novel, a potpourri of demonic writings and documents recount the story of Hell’s invasion of Heaven.
After his conquest of Earth, Lord Satan is astounded to learn humans believe in a “Personified God.” As Satan had been certain there was no being higher than himself, he plans to track down and kill this Creator. Satan abdicates his thrown to become a “Free Agent of Universal Evil,” leaving a planned invasion of Heaven to his decidedly unpopular successor, Lord Zyk of Asimoth. Zyk, who never misses an opportunity to remind readers that he edited Satan’s first Encyclopaedia, has a problem before the invasion even begins: Earth’s poisonous “magentic field” (not the magnetic one) causes Zyk to sprout a heart and a spleen, infesting him with emotions. He’s also working with a reduced military budget, as many of his forces’ time-traveling Hellcraft (the “standard” for the demonic army) have been crashed due to the demons’ inability to read the 8,000-page operating manual. Once Zyk and the army he leads finally make it to Celestia, the planet on which the city of Heaven resides, nothing goes as planned. Although, in the author’s conceit, this novel’s writings were compiled eons after the “successful” conquest of Heaven, the invasion is anything but simple.
Olson’s follow-up to Encyclopaedia of Hell (2011) is a darkly comic satire featuring a plethora of grotesque imagery, from humans cooking in a rotisserie oven to torn-off limbs and various bodily bits sliced and/or diced. But humor abounds, especially in the way seemingly routine elements function with this batch of Hellish characters: A couple of Zyk’s lieutenants, for example, are afraid they’ve fallen into “romantic hatred,” while memo sign-offs include such sentiments as “With dreams of a railroad spike through your neck” and “May your ancestors curse your name from their astral hole.” In the same vein, there’s not much true malice displayed by the cast; most of the demons come across as more half-witted than evil, and Zyk’s greatest concern is proving to others that he’s worthy to sit on Hell’s throne. Millionaire’s and Singh’s (among others) illustrations further instill a sense of lightheartedness. Millionaire’s are a bit more cartoonish, to the extent that the multi-eyed, amoeba-like demon Abra Kadab looks well-nigh adorable, even next to his dreadful meat-canning machine. Singh’s bold, equally superb images embrace absurdity, as when a demon in a crowd sports a “Baalmart” employee vest. Olson gleefully relays this story through an array of writing styles, including a series of court depositions, email correspondence, and excerpts from Satan’s pulp novel-like memoir. As it’s abundantly clear that some of the contributions and translations herein are less than reliable, readers can take this religious parody with a grain of salt.
A categorically hilarious and pleasantly goofy demon-riddled romp.