This book is the first time in my zombie exploration that I have considered the affliction of the undead from the zombie's point of view.Imagine that you have woken up in a broken body with no hope of biological regeneration. You are still you; same thoughts, same memories, same drive, hopes, fears... Everyone else knows before you do exactly what you are. Where do you go?
In this story, zombies are an abused underclass in society; mutilated by teenage pranksters, restricted from public gatherings, verbally assaulted. The main character tries to campaign against the zombie population's lack of basic civil rights, which seems just in theory. In reality, who wants their dead husband at the dinner table smelling like road kill found in a Tupperware container in the back of the fridge, sneezing out brain matter onto people's plates?
It was pushing my 'aww, poor zombie' button for more than 150 pages, before it went true-zombie.
I swear it's almost worse to read the descriptions of decay and brutality, than it is to watch it. At least while on screen, you have the option of blinking or looking away. With my horror-movie-hardened stomach, I was surprised at my gagging reaction during the slow and deliberate nature of reading.
Whoever referred to this book as a comedy is mistaken, in my opinion. 'Lament' is the most accurate description I can conjure, so the title is a better description than the back cover blurbs. Sad followed by sad is the theme in this seemingly real investigation of waking up dead.
And through the ups and downs of the characters, I'm reminded of the old adage; save one bullet.
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