Harsch, Rick - The Periphus Of Spur Tank Road

Hotel Ganesh, India, evening, sultry outside, bordering on stifling.
Character Rick relaxes on the terrace, trying to enjoy, appreciate, think.
When a monkey, a Bonnet Macaque to be precise, hisses, “Hey Mac.”
Rick, being a creative sort, doesn’t find a talking monkey so unusual, and the two begin a conversation.
From here, gentle reader, drop any preconceptions. Just switch off the damn TV and hang on.
Exchanges range from lurid history, to volleys against the preening indecency of humanity.
Yes, yes, I know, we mean well. Yet, when we do what we do – oops, sorry.
Vasco da Gama may get singled out, but he is merely a stand-in for the horde.
Our monkey, soon calling itself Pagan, speaks a fractured English.
For the best, as our author has not included dialogue markers (he said, Pagan replied)
We navigate a jungle of words, often confused or meandering.
Very enjoyable, if you have a taste for this, although I often suspected the author was on a bender, free-styling impressions while his hallucinations were fresh.