Snuff Memories is made up of multiple vignettes that read more like a prose poem than a work of narrative fiction. Like a sort of cut-up Cronenberg each segment is filled body horror and twisted imagery which at times portray an interesting portrait of a grim apocalyptic world.
Scattered throughout the text are some beautifully nightmarish aphorisms: “The universe is composed of windowless monads each locked away and screaming.”
However, Snuff Memories quickly goes from vivid nightmare to hazy dream. The experimental writing style of David Roden makes the vast majority of the book incomprehensible and sometimes rambling or repetitive.
The book has some kind of underlining philosophy which is lost on me. Perhaps that’s because I’m unfamiliar with the authors prior philosophical writings and the field of Post-humanism or maybe because of just how unclear the book is.