Very nasty pieces of work, they lurk in the sewer systems and yell threats up at Charlie as he passes by.

In San Francisco, where Charlie lives, the Forces of Darkness have shown up as the Morrigan, three personifications of death in the form of beautiful women who can take the shape of Ravens. Charlie, and a few others who do the same task, have been tapped as substitute guardians of the collective souls of humanity until another Luminatus can be born and restore the balance. Ever since, the Forces of Darkness have been trying to rise from below to gobble up all the souls. The problem is, according to The Great Big Book of Death, that some time ago Luminatus, or the Great Death, who kept the balance between light and darkness, ceased to be. The 28 glossy illustrated pages boiled it down in a nutshell: he was to retrieve souls, pass them on to their new recipients, and never let them end up in the hands of the Forces of Darkness that are continually waiting to take over the world. It wasn’t until The Great Big Book of Death showed up that he truly got a grip on the subject at hand. Of course, as with all cases of death, Charlie’s initial reaction to finding out that he was an agent of death was denial. He just slips into the house, picks up the object, and takes it back to the store where it waits for its next possessor to come along and buy it. It doesn’t hurt that they also glow bright red, and when he’s about the business of soul retrieval most people just don’t happen to notice Charlie. First, the soul is usually contained in some object that would be sold in a secondhand store: a clock radio, used suit, or even a blender.

His routine is: get up in the morning, check the daybook for any names that have mysteriously appeared there, go to their homes, retrieve the soul of the recently departed, and take it back to his secondhand store where he will sell it to its next body. First of all, his beloved wife Rachel dies just after giving birth to their first child, and secondly, his new job of retrieving the souls of the newly dead, to keep them safe for their next host, has made death part of his daily routine. Letting your mind go down that avenue is to invite anxiety and all his buddies over for a long-term visit.īut in Christopher Moore’s latest novel, A Dirty Job, Charlie Asher really doesn’t have much choice in the matter. Not only is it depressing, but it could end up being self-defeating in a, “what’s the point of this, we’re all going to die in the end anyway,” sort of way. Not very many of us think about death on a daily basis.

Christopher moore a dirty job review