- Title:
- Necropolis
- By:
- Guy Portman
- Pages:
- 298
- Rating:
- 4
What is a sociopath to do?
Dyson Devereux has it all – a way with the ladies, impeccable good taste, and a complete inability to empathise with other human beings. Perfect for the head of Burials and Cemeteries at Newton Borough Council.
But Dyson’s fed up. How long will he have to deal with banal work colleagues, drug-addled girlfriends and gaudy memorial structures? It feels like he’s just serial-killing time …
When Dyson suspects someone of having an even darker past than him, he sees a chance to get out. Will he take it, or is he destined for a life of toil in the health-and-safety-obsessed public sector?
Brutal, bleak and darkly comical, Necropolis is a savage indictment of political correctness and woke culture.
‘… a magnificent foray into the mind of a sociopath’ – DLS Reviews
‘The book is full of razor-sharp satire’ – Crime Fiction Lover
‘… a mix between The Office and American Psycho’ – Amazon Reviewer
Necropolis is the first instalment in the Necropolis Trilogy – #1 Necropolis #2 Sepultura #3 Golgotha
‘…it’s the well-crafted and perfectly executed satirical observations, along with the dry wit and devious humour that makes ‘Necropolis’ such a delight to read.’ – Chris Hall (Top 500 Amazon Reviewer. Vine Voice)
‘I remain slightly troubled as to why I found myself applauding a sociopath for being so thoroughly entertaining.’ – Little Bookness Lane (Top 1000 Amazon Reviewer)
“He hud tae lae, th’ beanflicker uv a radge.”
This means nothing to me. Turning to Cheikh I ask.
“Where is Kiro?”
“Rebecca a perdu son sang-froid et a renvoyé chez lui.”
“Thank you.”
Portman presents an exciting, fascinating glimpse into a logical, ordered, and deliciously twisted mind with this tour de force.
“From their grinning faces it is apparent that these photographs were taken pre-food poisoning.”
Devereux is so cold, yet with such a convivial bonhomie on the outside that you can’t but help be drawn in, and it’s good to see that Guy has found another thing to latch on to (it was alcoholic drinks last time, as I recall, and this time it’s a rather impressive list of foreign languages).
“You have the right to legal representation.”
“No representation required,” responds I, looking at the two of them in turn. “A cappuccino will suffice.”
To sum, a well-spun poke at political correctness and an absorbing look into a mind alien to many of us, with that twist of class and decorum at which Portman excels.