Book Review: The Somnambulist

First off, my apologies. Like our previous book review, the book I am about to mention is real. However, it may not be of as much interest to you. Nontheless, it is important to mention.

I normally read what might be considered not quite normal books. (But then again, reading books in and of itself is probably not quite normal in this day and age.) I am perfectly comfortable with, and to some extent, prefer, books in which, for example, Isaac Newton gets very angry about certain elements of the invention of Calculus. Or, as another example, in which the Trojan War is recreated with quantum mechanics. Or perhaps in which a stand in for J.R.R. Tolkein gets into a fistfight with the Devil and manages to kill him. (Yes, you heard that right. Step aside, Chuck Norris. Tolkein can kill the Devil with his bare hands!)

I don't normally mention books like these, except to people who I know to be interested in them. But The Somnambulist was different. It quite literally begged to be reviewed on the News of the Roundtable. On the very back of the book, a reviewer called it "one of the classiest entertainments I've read in a long, long time."

No. NO. NO.

Let's completely ignore the fact that the reviewer implies that classy entertainments must be readable. I'm a big fan of books - but I recognize that movies, TV shows, sporting events, and vidjagames have the potential to be extremely classy as well. And I'm sure even the biggest hater of books amongst the Fiends of the Roundtable would admit that it is theoretically possible to have a classy book.

The fact is, despite what this 'reviewer' said, The Somnambulist is anything but classy.

I'm not saying it's a bad book. I'm just not saying it's a great one - and, more importantly, it's hardly classy.

The book is set in Victorian London - to the best of my humble knowledge, that's a very classy place and time. If you don't believe me, take a look at the enclosed picture of some random Somwhat Important Victorian Dude that I found on Wikipedia. Observe his classy clothes and hat. Now consider that, in Victorian London, those clothes and hat were the standard garb for men. Is that classy, or is it just me?

(Actually, his hat is pretty ugly compared to the Victorian standard. But that's not the point.)

So merely because the book is set in Victorian London, one might assume that the book is classy. That is hardly the case.

First of all, hardly anything classy actually happens. Second of all, plenty of unclassy things happen.

Like, what was up with the bearded lady?

(Answer: you really don't want to know. And yes, the bearded lady did indeed play a major role in the plot.)

And how could that albino guy not have realized that his actions would end up killing his son?

(Answer: because he tried being classy, failed, and ended up showing us the idiot he really was.)

Most importantly, what was up with the milk?

(I have no idea! It was crazy! That was more of a mystery than the plot of the book was!)

Again, I'm not saying the book was especially bad.
I wasn't tortured while reading it.

I wasn't forced to stop reading (because otherwise I would go crazy) and then fake all future assignments based on the book through skilled use of Wikipedia.

And I didn't actually go crazy and summon otherworldly horrors as a result of reading it.

The book even had some redeeming features, like (Spoilers. Highlight if you want to read them.) Lovecraftian Schoolboys, Strange Cults, and Zombie Samuel Coleridge.

But really, it just wasn't all that great. And it most certainly was not classy.

If you for some reason want to purchase it, The Somnambulist is available in hardcover on Barnes & Noble's Website for the awfully low price of $3.99. But if I were you, I'd buy something better instead.