The books I read tend to mainly have characters you wouldn’t want to be. In fact, when reading them, I tend to thank my lucky stars that I will never know what it’s like to be these people. For instance, I’ve read more books about Stalin-era prison camps than is entirely rational. I don’t know why these things fascinate me so. Most likely, it’s because the character’s lives are so vastly different from my own. Hopefully, I’ll never know what it’s like to not be able to say whatever I want to say. I’ll never be imprisoned for telling a joke.
I wouldn’t want to live in an era that’s not as advanced as this one, say, without proper medical care or electricity, so that leaves present day or the future. Since I don’t read contemporary fiction nor science fiction all that much, that doesn’t leave much from which to choose. Most science fiction books depict bleak and dismal futures in which nobody would ever choose to live.
Stewart Home, by all quantifiable categories, is a terrible writer. His books are chock full of meandering plots, barely formed characters and dialog that is so cheesy it will make you want to track down his address and smack him one in the gulliver, BUT there is something about the trashy, pulp quality of his books that is entertaining. His characters are misanthropic idiots with misguided political ideology and a violent fervor to back it up who have no regard for civilized society. They have excellent taste in music and they lead fun lives; carousing and bashing their way through existence. For instance, here’s a plot synopsis for Red London:
Fellatio Jones and his crew shoot, fuck, stab, bludgeon, and plunder their way from the mean streets of Mile End, to aristocratic Belgravia. The Skinhead Squad are a new breed of malcontent. Their brand of mayhem has an ideological twist and the gang targets its violence with deadly effect. As class anger explodes from the rotting heart of inner city London, corpse is piled upon corpse, and the streets run red with blood. Red London is an authoritative novel of sex, violence, and pathological sadism that wells over into total mania as the plot races towards its cataclysmic conclusion. Read this book and discover why the wealthy want it banned.
In the vein of characters I wouldn’t want to be, even though I’m opposed to their ideology and methods, that sounds like a hell of a lot of fun to me, if only for a little while. Being male would certainly be an interesting change of pace as well.
My heart isn’t really in this question since I’m very fond of being me. I wouldn’t want to be anyone else, but for a little while, it might be quite entertaining to be Fellatio Jones.