book: Island of the Sequined Love Nun (1997) by Christopher Moore

At his best — as in novels like Fluke, Lamb and Noir — Christopher Moore is close to being our finest living humorous writer. Even his lesser novels, of which this is one, offer good entertainment.

Underqualified pilot Tucker Case loses his job flying for the boss of a cosmetics corporation when he’s about a mile low in altitude for an initiation into the mile-high club. His piloting mentor points him in the direction of a new job in the remotest corner of Micronesia flying medical supplies for a missionary doctor there. The pay’s astronomical and they’re willing to employ him, so Tuck knows there has to be something rotten going on, but he puts that out of his mind because doing so is the easiest option.

Especially when the scenery includes the Sky Princess, Beth Curtis, who with her husband is exploiting the islanders’ cargo cult for nefarious purposes. Not that being married holds Beth back much when temptation strikes her . . .

As you can probably guess, a lot of the jokes are a bit locker room, which means that when they misfire they can be pretty grating. Where the book succeeds better, I think, are in its flights of imagination. For example, the islanders’ cargo cult focuses on a pilot called Vincent, who landed here during World War II and promised to return; even though he was soon afterwards killed by the Japanese, his specter does indeed still on occasion fulfill that promise. Having a ghost as a character alongside the more material ones would be intriguing enough, but what really stands out is a scene with Vincent not in this world but in the afterlife, where he and other cult figures pass the time in cardplay.

And then there’s the talking fruitbat . . .

All in all, an enjoyable read with more than a few resounding belly-laughs, but not one of Moore’s classics. Great title, though.