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Michael Marshall Smithâs surreal, groundbreaking, and award-winning debut which resonates with wild humour interlaced with dark recollections of an emotional minefield. Michael Marshall Smithâs surreal, groundbreaking, and award-winning debut which resonates with wild humour interlaced with dark recollections of an emotional minefield. Stark lives in Colour, a neighbourhood whose inhabitants like to be co-ordinated with their surroundings â a neighbourhood where spangly purple trousers are admired by the walls of buildings as you pass them. Close by is Sound, where you mustnât make any, apart from one designated hour a day when you can scream your lungs raw. Then thereâs Red â get off at Fuck Station Zero if you want to see a tactical nuclear battle recreated as a sales demonstration. Stark has friends in Red, which is just as well because Something is about to happen. And when a Something happens itâs no good chanting âDuck and coverâ while cowering in a corner, because a Something is always from the past, Starkâs past, and it wonât go away until you face it full on.
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Michael Marshall Smithâs surreal, groundbreaking, and award-winning debut which resonates with wild humour interlaced with dark recollections of an emotional minefield. Michael Marshall Smithâs surreal, groundbreaking, and award-winning debut which resonates with wild humour interlaced with dark recollections of an emotional minefield. Stark lives in Colour, a neighbourhood whose inhabitants like to be co-ordinated with their surroundings â a neighbourhood where spangly purple trousers are admired by the walls of buildings as you pass them. Close by is Sound, where you mustnât make any, apart from one designated hour a day when you can scream your lungs raw. Then thereâs Red â get off at Fuck Station Zero if you want to see a tactical nuclear battle recreated as a sales demonstration. Stark has friends in Red, which is just as well because Something is about to happen. And when a Something happens itâs no good chanting âDuck and coverâ while cowering in a corner, because a Something is always from the past, Starkâs past, and it wonât go away until you face it full on.











