“The Damned Busters” by Mathew Hughes

There is a location in Hell that Dante overlooked; it is called the middle-seat, and to get there, one must first stand in an interminable line of sweaty, angry, confused people who, like you, are about to miss their flight.  This line, controlled by TSA golems carrying whips and wands, ogle and glare at you as you pass through their marvelous invasive machinery that can see through your clothing.  With a nod from their sausage-like necks, they signal their approval and allow you to pass.  It’s hard to miss their secret knowing, leering, smiles:  they have just seen you naked.

“The Damned Busters” did not start well for me.

My next humiliation:  to get to my middle-seat, I must squeeze past the incredibly large woman who was to be the seatmate, encapsulating the entire aisle to my left; surely, she blocked any hope of escape in the event of an emergency.  My other neighbor, by the window, an equally enormous black man, told me, as soon as I was seated, “Hey, if I'm asleep when they come with the drinks, then wake me.  Cause I want something to drink.”

Okay, I thought, time to ignore the world about me.  I pulled out Matt Hughes’s latest book “The Damned Busters,” published by Angry Robot, 2011, and began.

Oh, no!  I searched my pockets and computer bag for my glasses – damn!  They were in my carry-on bag, which I had tucked safely away in the overhead locker above the fat woman’s head.  The plane was already moving and so I was stuck.  The fat woman was chatting to people across the aisle.  The black man on my right was already asleep, and I was trapped between them both.  Stuck fast with my crappy eyesight, my Hell begins anew.

Holding Matt’s book about a foot from my face, I read.  The tight squint I adopted for that first hour is still fixed to my face, even now – two months later.

It is said:  Doctors make terrible patients, Pilots make nervous passengers, and that Prostitutes make timid lovers.  So then, it must follow that Writers make reticent readers, for author Matt Hughes actually encouraged me to read another of his books, "The Others" instead of this one, "The Damned Busters."  http://www.sfsite.com/fsf/blog/forum/topic.php?id=1286&page=2

All I can say is that “The Others” must be fantastic, because “The Damned Busters” is great… and odd, and strange.

There is no meandering storyline for Matt Hughes.  He gets immediately to the gravitas of the story, wherein the main character, Chesney Arnstruther, accidently summons a demon from Hell.  This encounter leads to a work stoppage of Hell, bringing Earth to a grinding passionless halt, and annoying the Principal of Hell Himself, Satan.

At first glance, there is an element of “cute” to the story, but as the entanglement unfolds, the reader is treated to a thoroughly well thought-out plotline, with Hell shutting down, and our protagonist, Chesney, resolving the situation by making a non-binding deal with the Devil – and all this by the end of Chapter 3.

Chesney’s deal is to be a superhero – and this is no less plausible than radioactive spider bites, or our suns golden rays shinning upon our most famous superhero, Clark Kent.

Using the complexities of the Judeo-Christian belief system as the key element underlying this story, Matt throws an entirely different light on this well-worn genre.  I think Matt may be first to do this, and so his playing field is vast and untouched, already, he has a sequel in the works.

Hughes has a deep insight into Christianity and uses it well by introducing us to a televangelist, Billy Lee Hardacre.  Hardacre, is the story’s religious expert, and becomes the mediator between Hell, Chesney, Earth, and Heaven.  While he negotiates the deal to get Hell moving again, he falls in love with Chesney’s mother… and the plot thickens.

Hughes’s perception of Christianity and the sin found within it, is best reflected in Chapter 3.  Chesney is walking to his mother’s house (because the busses are not running).  Chesney has already had a conversation with several high-ranking demons and then with Satan himself, and so Chesney knows what is going on.  With Hell on strike, humans are no longer sinning.  In Chapter 3, as Chesney walks, he passes a house he knows.  The garden of this house is normally filled with blooming flowers, but now the garden and its flowers are untended, untidy, and yellowing.  Why had the elderly couple, who worked so diligently, day after day, to create the garden, not come out to tend it?  Chesney realizes that it was never for the love of flowers and their beauty; instead, the garden had been inspired entirely from the sin of Pride.  It was here, I realized, I found something I had not expected, and I knew I wanted to keep going.  Despite the horrible people about me, and despite my cramped confinement to my seat, I disappeared into Matt’s world, and for that, I will always be grateful.

I won’t spoil the story for you, suffice to say, it’s a good one.  Chesney and his demonic sidekick, Xaphan (who has penchant for whiskey, cigars, and the 1920’s), go through a series of bonding moments.  There are a couple of pretty girls, a villain, etc.  But there is more – for it is a story within a story.  Matt Hughes cleverly intertwines a higher plot that may, or may not change, depending on the number of rewrites God Himself makes to His Book (God’s book, not Matt’s – or maybe both, I guess we will find out in the sequel, “Costume not Included” coming in May 2012).

I highly recommend this book.  It made an otherwise intolerable travel day, pleasant.  Thanks Matt.

JL