Copeland Valley Press, 208 pages, trade paperback, $10.95

One of the best things about uncanny/weird/bizarro literature is that its absolute freedom of ideas and form allows for the emergence of far more fresh, unique voices than any other genre. The latest author to explode out of that scene is Josh Myers, and Feast of Oblivion, his latest release with Copeland Valley Press, is the kind of book that can make you frown quizzically, laugh, and ponder the ulterior meanings, or lack thereof, hidden in the prose all at the same time.

The book starts with Peter Weller (yes, Robocop Peter Weller) driving his Cadillac through the New Jersey desert. He’s trying to make sense of some vague directions because he needs to get to a signing of his book on halibut conspiracies. Before he get to his destination, his Cadillac breaks down. Luckily, it does near a dead halibut that points him toward an elevator that takes him into down, straight to the bowels of Demolition, New Jersey. Everything seems to be going great for a while, but soon the conspiracies are no longer inside a book, those helping Peter are not who they say they are, dreams enter the realm of the weird, and a woman at the center of the universe might just mean the end of everything. Sucked into this strange world of enigmas and dangerous, cult-inspired schemes, Peter has to fight to escape and maybe save the world in the process.

The beauty of Myers’ work comes from his ability to mix strange elements in entirely new ways. For example, you won’t find a finer combination of train-inspired dreams and disturbing, cannibalistic, scatological visions. The same goes for the fact that the narrative is a retro-flavored pop-culture feast (no pun intended) that’s also full of halibut. The result of this bizarre concoctions is a narrative that possesses an undeniable pull: you want to keep reading just to see what’s coming next.

Sometimes talking about film is a great way to help readers get a better idea of what they’re in for when reading a book. In this case, you’d have to imagine an unknown Jodorowsky film about fish starring Peter Weller, but seen on VHS on an old television.

Regardless of what can be said about the elements that make up Feast of Oblivion, the narrative’s strength is something that can only be experienced by reading the book. Intrigue, sex, weirdness, and a dash of violence are all great, but when you put all of them into a story of cosmic proportions, thrown in a naked lady, sprinkle in a healthy dose of halibut, and wrap it all up in humor, you get a reading experience that’s as engaging as it is unique. Psychomagic entered the world of literature a long time ago, but Myers is its new maestro.