The Coming of the Rats
By George H. Smith
1961 Priority Books
Paperback, 158 pages
This
one threw me for a loop. I thought I was in for a typical post-Nuke killer rat novel,
but I got oh, so much more. And less!
The
first thing you notice is that the main character, Steve Seabrook, is a real
douchebag. Self-centered and eternally horny, Steve is completely out for
himself. His only real comrade is his dick. In fact, his drooling over his
coworker’s curves is so overt as to be distracting. I wondered just what this
book was up to, so I took a break and looked up the author. Smith was a soft-core
erotica writer, responsible for such titles as Orgy Buyer and Country
Club Lesbians while also trying his hand at science fiction. OK, so I
wasn’t seeing things. With that settled I went back and enjoyed the book for
what it was: soft-core sci-fi.
Y’see,
with bombs imminent, Steve had secured a cave deep in the valley where
destruction and radiation would be minimal. He’d been stocking it with essentials,
and he just needed an Eve to his Adam. He chose his stacked co-worker
Bettirose, for better or worse. Meanwhile, he’s fucking his Mexican friend’s
hot 18-year-old daughter, who will be a neighbor in the Valley after the bombs
drop. After two thirds of the book is done, the bombs do drop and the
post-apocalyptic fun begins, including the long-awaited rat scourge.
Yes,
this book is puerile and silly but it’s a ton of fun. The Priority Books
edition I have is a study in cheapness, with smeary or faded inks on every
page. The cover isn’t as lurid as the original Pike Books cover, which features
a blonde maiden being stripped by rats, but the story is just as wonderfully
stupid.
Check out Tony Shepard's look at the evolution of this story here... it's very interesting and gives you a look at the tale in its original form!
This review originally appeared in Midnight Magazine #8, July 2021.
Midnight Magazine
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