Stone Junction: An Alchemical Pot-Boiler

Description

When Daniel's mother dies, he is brought under the protection of the AMO: the Alliance of Magicians and Outlaws. It is an introduction to a world of revenge, revolution and mind-bending chemicals, where anarchists, alchemists and high-stake gamblers co-exist. It is a place in which magic and murder are the norm. So begins an extraordinary quest for knowledge and understanding in this unforgettable outlaw classic.

Jim Dodge is the author of three novels, including Fup and Not Fade Away, and a collection of poetry and short prose, Rain on the River. He lived for many years on an isolated ranch in western Sonoma County and has been by turns an apple picker, a carpet layer, a teacher, a professional gambler, a shepherd for five years, a woodcutter and an environmental restorer.

This novel is remarkable for its breadth. The AMO is skilfully woven into the fabric of real America, and Dodge's sweeping take on that country, combined with the humanity of each of his vast array of characters, lends this book a particular kind of majesty * * Observer * * Within half an hour of starting this novel, I was absolutely hooked . . . it kept me guessing all the way to the end * * The Times * * Reading Stone Junction is like being at a non-stop party in celebration of everything that matters -- THOMAS PYNCHON A post-psychedelic coming-of-age fable that's part Thomas Pynchon, part Tolkien, part Richard Brautigan, a story that owes as much to The Once and Future King as it does to Huckleberry Finn . . . Stone Junction is a rollicking, frequently surprising adventure-cum-fairy tale * * New York Times * * A work of genius * * Big Issue * * An irresistible kaleidoscope of manic, tragic and exquisitely funny Americana * * Time Out * * As good as writing gets * * Literary Review * * A glorious narrative, peopled by characters of genuine imaginative force * * Herald * * One of the most original literary voices around * * ELLE * * Jim Dodge should make the John Grishams of this world weep into their overstuffed pillows * * Evening Standard * *