Book Report: The Kings of Infinite Space

'According to Paul Trilby, there's something weird going on at the Texas Department of General Services, where he slaves away as the lowliest-of-lowly corporate workers, the office temp. Of course, Paul also thinks his apartment is haunted by the ghost of his ex-wife's cat, and that egg-headed aliens wearing pocket protectors are stalking his daily commute. Yes, ol' Paul's grasp on reality is none too secure, but that's understandable. Divorced, destitute, and driving a rattletrap clunker amidst a sea of sleek SUVs, Paul's down-and-out existence is a far cry from his former glory days as an up-and-coming university professor. Confronted by his smarmy co-workers (who are not above selling their souls for a better gig), Paul is introduced to a mysterious world of former employees, equally downtrodden middlemen downsized in state budget cuts. The only difference is--they're dead. In the best tradition of Baum, Carroll, and Orwell, James Hynes crafts a mordantly incisive satire on a corporate America where incompetence is rewarded and talent ignored.'

First sentence:
"One brutally hot summer's morning, Paul Trilby--ex-husband, temp typist, cat murderer--slouched sweating in his t-shirt on his way to work, waiting behind the wheel of his car for the longest red light in central Texas."

James Hynes had me hooked on 'Kings' half-way through the first line. This book is visual, fun, hilarious and creepy in all the best ways. It reads much like a movie, with action scenes clearly depicted and each character unique and recognizable. Except for the occasional weirdness, much of this story resembles the movie 'Office Space', but maybe even a little better.

I loved the first few incidents where Paul begins to question his sanity:
"He pushed the book away and pressed his fingers into his eyes, and when he pulled them away he saw a string dangling from the ceiling fifteen feet away. Paul squeezed his eyes shut, then looked again. The string was still there, hanging over a lunchroom table straight as a plumb line, suspended from a little, black, triangular gap where a ceiling panel was askew. At the lower end of the string a little noose was being raised and lowered over a salt shaker in the middle of the table. The noose draped once over the shaker without catching it, then twice, then again, the string above slackening each time. Then, one more try and it caught around the neck of the salt shaker. The string went taut, and the salt shaker swung silently up off the table."
What I loved about this was that immediately after, another character approaches Paul and he never really gets to reflect on what just happened. That left me sitting there with a delicious 'WTF?' grin, and had me racing on to find out more.

I'm sure the repetitive use of the word 'bloodless' was meant to be a motif or a clue, and it was a noticeable one. Every time I read it, it threw me out of the story as I pondered it.

I've never before read a novel that so completely jumped genres. This story cruises along as a lovely comedy, the humor both in witty dialogue and situations. But the climax switches gears completely, and as the reader is taken into a world that could easily be interpreted as Hell, the wit falls away and Hynes concentrates instead on describing his underground world. But he executes a rather complicated, fast-paced chase scene which serves to answer all the questions and also raise a couple more. Paul's future is left uncertain at the end, but you will find one of the best last sentences ever.

Four and a half stars out of five, for originality and addictiveness, and because work really is Hell.