Mortimer Tate is a former insurance salesman who holed up in a cave while the world went to shit. When he emerges nine years later, the land he once knew has changed forever. Armed with several cases of whiskey that survived the apocalypse, Mortimer embarks on an epic journey to the fabled ruins of Atlanta to find his ex-wife and a damn good cup of coffee.
Just to give you an idea of the level of sleaze author Victor Gischler has on offer here, after a modestly violent introduction, Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse really gets the action going with the main character tied up, forced to watch his future love interest being raped, then receiving a very unwanted golden shower from said rapist... and this might not even be the most fucked up part of the novel. What we have here is the most edgelord version of a Fallout video game you could possibly imagine. And I'm here for it.
There was a period of time in the mid-oughts when Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse was published where everything in the post-apocalyptic genre had to be dour, grimdark, and serious. For me, that got old in a hurry. While this novel definitely pushes the boundaries of darkness and violence to extreme levels, there is an undercurrent of irreverent humor that helps the piece stand out from the overabundance of Cormac McCarthy clones out there. The material never ventures into full slapstick mode, but you can't help but laugh sometimes at Gischler's Texas Chainsaw Massacre style redneck cannibals populating his version of a post-apocalyptic southern United States, or the women in bikinis who are improbably armed to the teeth popping caps in fools. It's a completely absurd and violent cartoon version of the end of the world, but there is just enough grit and realism to keep the story from careening out of control.
It helps that the main character is just your average joe everyman kind of guy. He's not especially strong, he's not the best shot, he's got some brains but he's not necessarily a genius... Mortimer is a great foil for the more colorful characters shaped by the apocalypse that he encounters and eventually travels with. There is some light commentary on what the fall of the United States could mean to your regular nine to fiver closing in on middle-age and still clinging to the vestiges of the American Dream like Mortimer, but again, Gischler knew he wasn't going to be competing for overwrought literary awards with this one and quickly moves on to the next gunfight before anything can get too introspective.
As a final thought, some have argued this book is sexist. And they're probably right. But who cares? It's a good time. Have some fun in your escapism for a change.
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