Barry Pateman of the Kate Sharpley Library:

This novel is an intriguing mixture of horror (very much in the style of H.P. Lovecraft) and anarchist ideas and history. I suppose this could be viewed as rather an unlikely partnership but in truth the writer blends them rather effortlessly to produce a remarkably well written, thoughtful, wryly humorous and genuinely frightening narrative. It has taken what is often the dry and onanistic discourse within anarchism and presents it in an exciting and readable way… The novel succeeds because no matter how complex or unlikely events may seem to the reader, the narrative remains taut and engaging- even if what we engage with is frankly disgusting or horrific. At times there is a wonderful surreal sense of humour at work- it’s not everyone who can wander the country highways followed by a large blob they have incubated! That said, it is a sense of suppressed terror that dominates the novel. Some passages are explicitly frightening or, at the very least unsettling but this sense of looming horror is somehow always there, leaving the reader edgy and tense. The familiar becomes the frightening- if you have any sense you will never go hiking again after reading this novel.

Read it then for the horror, for the gripping narrative and the atmospheric passages of description. Read it also for a celebration of the individual affirmation of Stirner’s phrase from The Ego and It’s Own “I am my own only when I am master of myself, instead of being mastered by anything else.”


Steve Brady in Slingshot:

Before I launch into some obligatory literary and political critique, let me say that this book is FUN. If like me, you’re interested in early 20th century pulp fiction and anarchism, this novel is a gold mine from a fellow fan. Don’t judge this book by its Gothic cover; it gets pretty darn playful with its subjects.


Robert Eggplant in Slingshot:

This work delivers classic horror and anarchist intelligence, but there’s more, not evident by the cover and blurbs. Passages that describe the rural landscape of the North East U.S. are vivid, as the author knows this region like his own finger prints. The segment describing a blob-like creature sourced from vomit reveal a true life awe for children — including the author’s own offspring. The passionate detail to historic events, radical culture and esoteric knowledge offer a different angle than what boring historians have to offer. This book can then be described as Howard Zinn meets Howard P. Lovecraft. I think Homuncula is best read if you vow not to shave or work for a month, live off the grid, in a poorly constructed shack that is lighted only by candles. As the days pass and your sanity descends with Robert’s, you will have only the barest of food… so to feel the hunger that haunts the new world as it smashes into the old world.