Title: Anarchy Author: James Robert Baker Publisher: Alyson James Robert Baker had an incredible mind, but plagued by serious depression it was eventually his own worst enemy. The author of five fantastic novels, he sadly killed himself in 1997. Testosterone, a blitzing queer rewrite of Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, was thought to be his last work. Thankfully his partner got together with Alyson Books and editor Scott Brassart, and out of 500 pages of notes, rewrites and other assorted resources, they pieced together Anarchy. It could well be his greatest work. Baker’s novels often involved oppressed homosexual men taking revenge on bigots, police, fundamentalist christians, politicians and anyone else who had beaten them down. He also explored the clone mentality of contemporary gay life, and took the piss out of those who were overly self-righteous. His novels involved a lot of exaggeration, outlandish ideas (blowing up a Disney-like world for example) and explorations of the nature of interpersonal relations in a world dominated by politicised identities. With Anarchy, it’s as if he finally combined every one of these themes and, knowing that he would die soon, committed them to the permanence of paper, leaving behind a chaotic story that finally did him justice. Using his own name as the main character, Baker finds himself involved in the investigation of what seems to be a video of OJ murdering Ron Goldman and Nicole Simpson. From there he ends up in Germany investigating the whereabouts of Eva Braun’s miracle diet pills, and eventually ends up infiltrating a cult of Christians dedicated to producing incriminating digital images of “left-wing” decadents such as Hilary Clinton sucking off Vincent Foster. Throw in a Pamela Anderson-like star whose plastic surgeon has implanted bombs in her breasts, the Russian Mafia, a relapsing speed freak who finds God and a brilliant encounter with the heavenly figure of Catherine Denueve who, apparently, was Mary Magdalene in a past life and you have a hilarious, fast-paced blacker-than-Monty Python comedic novel that takes no prisoners. Though the novel has been reconstructed by Scott Brassart, it’s difficult to even tell where Baker’s words end and Brassart’s begin, which is positive indeed. It’s also a telling sign that Baker had finally found his concrete voice, the one which could serve him so well and he took on and took down every one of his literary targets. In what is essentially Baker’s final testimony, we have a powerhouse novel that provides a million laughs and, more importantly than ever after September 11th, reminds us that corruption, bigotry and hypocrisy are never far away in the hallowed halls of power.