Christopher Moore: Book Reviews
This Is What Happens When You Read Moore Than One
I’ve been on a binge. A full-blown, cross-genre, genre-blind literary bender involving Jesus, jazz, noir, ghouls, Shakespeare, Christmas zombies, and infidelity in Bangkok. That is to say, I’ve been reading Christopher Moore. And then, accidentally, Christopher G. Moore.
Spoiler: I’m convinced they’re the same person, just splitting timelines like a trickster god with a fake passport and too much time in Thailand.
Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal
If you’re only going to read one Moore (but why would you stop?), Lamb is the holy grail. It’s irreverent and sweet, like if your favorite stand-up comedian rewrote the New Testament during a mushroom trip. In Biff’s unapologetic voice, the story of Jesus’ (Josh’s) missing years becomes a riotous blend of slapstick, drugs, hookers and unexpectedly profound wisdom.. Somehow it’s tender and absurd, heretical and loving.
I laughed, I cried, I winced—because I knew every line by heart, raised in the cult from birth until a teenage pregnancy finally set me free.
Sacre Bleu: A Comedy d’Art
This one’s lush and weird. Paris. Painters. Van Gogh. Murder. Magic blue pigment. Moore builds a fever dream out of French Impressionism and it somehow works. It’s the book version of absinthe: strange, heady, maybe a little too long but you're glad you drank it. If Lamb is soul food, Sacre Bleu is a five-course meal where every dish is painted.
Noir
This is Moore in a trench coat, chain-smoking and talking out the side of his mouth. Set in 1947 San Francisco, Noir is his homage to pulp fiction. You’ve got dames, UFOs, slang that drips like spilled gin, and a snake with more brains than most humans. It’s not his deepest book, but it’s slick, funny and unapologetically absurd. Like Lamb’s drunk uncle on a bender with Raymond Chandler.
A Dirty Job
A beta-male dad becomes a death merchant. Classic Moore. This one sits in the sweet spot between funny and existentially horrifying. Death, dying and department stores. You will laugh at grief, which feels wrong but also kind of right. Plus: soul objects, hellhounds and a city that feels haunted in the best way.
The Stupidest Angel
A holiday disasterpiece. Moore crams together characters from other books (Pine Cove is his recurring chaos vortex), adds an angel with the IQ of a toaster, and tops it off with a zombie apocalypse. It’s Christmas, Moore-style—bloody, slapstick and heartwarming if you squint.
Fool
This one is Shakespeare fanfiction on acid. Pocket, the jester, is foul-mouthed, horny and smarter than everyone around him. Fool rewrites King Lear with bawdy glee and razor wit. If you like your classics desecrated with flair, this one’s for you. It's Lamb without God, Dirty Job with a crown, and Noir with iambic pentameter.
And Then… The Risk of Infidelity Index by Christopher G. Moore
So I pick this up thinking it’s just another Moore tome. Bangkok, sleazy detective, philosophical tangents, beautiful women who might kill you. About halfway through, I check the cover again. Who the hell is Christopher G. Moore?
Turns out, different guy.
Or is it?
Because here’s the thing: the tone isn’t all that different. Sure, G. leans hard into crime and corruption while C. prefers spiritual satire and slapstick chaos. But both are chasing human messiness with dark humor, linguistic flair and the sense that we’re all one bad decision from unraveling. They write like men who’ve been up too late, drinking whiskey, muttering about truth, justice and how none of it means a damn thing without a punchline.
But I digress…
Reading the Moore multiverse is like taking ayahuasca with a theology major, a stand-up comic and a noir detective in the same room. You’ll exit changed. Or at least confused.
If Christopher Moore is the class clown in a robe, playing God for laughs then Christopher G. Moore is the expat philosopher in a sweat-stained suit, whispering secrets in a Bangkok bar.
Different Moores. Same existential itch.
Do yourself a favor and head here and grab a book of his: Christopher Moore
Praise for Christopher Moore:
“Where has this guy been hiding?”
— The New York Times
“A very sick man, in the very best sense of the word.”
— Carl Hiaasen
“Habit-forming zaniness.”
— USA Today
“The greatest satirist since Jonathan Swift”
— Denver Rocky Mountain News
“Christopher Moore writes novels that are not only hilarious, but fun to read as well. He is an author at the top of his craft.”
— Nicholas Sparks
“All [his] books exhibit the same marvelous virtues. Engaging, deftly limned protagonists whose human failings are always offset by surprising moral depths, heroes and villains alike. Zippy, jet-propelled plots whose parts are intricately connected and whose endings offer genuine surprises. Bright, clean, witty dialogue. Juicy descriptions, similes and metaphors in the hyperbolic mode. Vivid physical settings and cultural milieus, meticulously reported from first-hand experience….And – finally but essentially – ingenious fantasy elements that are integral with the other components of the books, engines of action, not just add-ons.”
— Washington Post Book World
“The thinking man’s Dave Barry or the impatient man’s Tom Robbins, Moore takes cheap laughs where he can get them . . . over the last decade, he’s learned how to merge them into speculative romps that skip merrily in and out of the realm of possibility.”
— The Onion
“Christopher Moore is rapidly becoming the cult author of today, filling a post last held by Kurt Vonnegut.”
— Denver Post
“Christopher Moore deserves acclaim on the Dave Barry/Christopher Buckley level, or even beyond that, for he’s better than either of them.”
— Fort Worth Star-Telegram
“Moore excels at putting a comic spin on cosmic issues.”
— San Francisco Chronicle
“Moore is one of those rare writes who is laugh-out-loud funny.”
— Santa Barbara Independent
“Moore’s comedic style is refreshingly relaxed and good-natured; when it comes time for him to deliver a satirical barb, he does so with reliable accuracy.”
— San Francisco Examiner & Chronicle
“Moore’s storytelling style is reminiscent of Vonnegut and Douglas Adams.”
— Philadelphia Inquirer