Here we are, December 13. I know that you've been holding your breath since I teased you about this title last month. Tonight was our fourth adult book group. Six participants this time, down one (4 returns, 2 new), but it is December, and I KNEW I had chosen a book that wouldn't be terribly popular with the group. But, they did want me to push them, and I have wanted to read Christopher Moore's The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror since I saw it last year.
The reaction was mixed. I loved it. I don't think two pages went by without at least a snort. Several times I had to actually put the book down in order to laugh. It is, much as whomever said about me, irreverent. Therein lies both its appeal and its repugnancy. One loved it as much as I did, another liked it, two admitted to laughter but not necesarily enjoyment, one didn't read it, the last gave up when the zombies appeared.
Wait...Zombies? In a Christmas story?
I really can't put it better than the publisher, so here's what they have to say:
'Twas the night (okay, more like the week) before Christmas, and all through the tiny community of Pine Cove, California, people are busy buying, wrapping, packing, and generally getting into the holiday spirit.
But not everybody is feeling the joy. Little Joshua Barker is in desperate need of a holiday miracle. No, he's not on his deathbed; no, his dog hasn't run away from home. But Josh is sure that he saw Santa take a shovel to the head, and now the seven-year-old has only one prayer: Please, Santa, come back from the dead.
But hold on! There's an angel waiting in the wings. (Wings, get it?) It's none other than the Archangel Raziel come to Earth seeking a small child with a wish that needs granting. Unfortunately, our angel's not sporting the brightest halo in the bunch, and before you can say "Kris Kringle," he's botched his sacred mission and sent the residents of Pine Cove headlong into Christmas chaos, culminating in the most hilarious and horrifying holiday party the town has ever seen.
Move over, Charles Dickens -- it's Christopher Moore time.
And wait 'til you find out what the zombies want to do after they eat brains! (Seriously, Mom, you totally have to read this book - and that goes for the rest of you too!<3)
Read the first bit here.
(note: Irreverence is fine with me, I just hope I don't cross that line into rudeness. Do let me know if I do, and I'll rectify the situation. However, not wanting to be rude doesn't necessarily mean that I'm always going to be nice. There's little worse than a sycophant. No matter how much I love authors and what they do...I'm not sure I buy into that "if you've nothing nice to say, say nothing at all." I rather think that's a disservice to us all. I'm nothing, if not honest. Thank You, musing over.)