“Scarecrow” by Matthew Reilly

While we were on holiday, I ran out of things to read – quite a shock to the system, it has to be said. Fortunately (and I use the term in its loosest possible sense) the place we were staying had some books as well. Unfortunately, the one I chose to read (as per the title of the post) was Matthew Reilly’s “Scarecrow“.

Oh. My. God.

If I’m being polite, I’d say that it managed to redefine my limits of “Worst book I’ve ever read”. I could even say that it managed the previously unheard-of achievement of making “The Da Vinci Code” look well-written and intelligent.

If I’m going back to being Lyle, I’d just say that it’s easily the biggest piece of shit it’s ever been my misfortune to set eyes on. It’s fucking awful. (And yes, I did finish the bloody thing. I’m really bad at admitting defeat with a book, even if it does suck the balls of dead donkeys)

You can see that Reilly really wants this book to be a film – it’s written in that style, and even adds emphasis and italics (and exclamation marks) to the bits you can tell he thinks would make good action scenes. However, even Michael Bay would decide that it’s fucking awful, and would make a rubbish film – and he’s the one who gave us “The Rock” and “Bad Boys, for fuck’s sake. Scarecrow really is that bad.

I don’t mind the odd thriller cliché – the last minute escape, for example. But Scarecrow managed to have about eight or nine of these last-minute “He just managed to jump out of the speeding truck in time” things – one is OK, two stretches credibility, but eight just makes you think “Oh for christ’s sake, get another idea. PLEASE.”. Or words to that effect.

All told, it was an execrable pile of festering donkey-shit. I hope to never read another book by the same author, even in times of desperation. If I wanted donkey-shit masquerading as fiction, I’d rather read the Daily Mail next time.