Review: Auditors of Doom by Roy M. Griffis
The last time a Roy Griffs novel was featured on this site, I’d said it may have been the funniest book I’d ever read. With the release of his second entry into his Cthulhu, Amalgamated universe, he manages to avoid the dreaded sophmore slump with Auditors of Doom. Narg and Murph are back, this time in Depression-Era Texas. It’s not a comfortable Ivy League college gig they're given either; the pair’s host body is working as a bellhop in a hotel that’s very, very haunted.
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The story
If you haven’t read our review of the series’ preceding title, The Thing From HR, you can find it here; I won’t rehash too much and I absolutely suggest you read that book before starting this one. (WARNING: some spoilers for the first book follow)
That fair warning given, this story takes place a while after the events of the first book. Narg’Lah, our shoggoth protagonist, has settled comfortably into a promotion within the Human Restraint office, and has found success authoring a monograph of his experiences among the “Hairless Apes”, or “Poo Flingers”. His erstwhile companion on that adventure, Murph, has actually found love and settled down in That Dimension Where Madness Reigns and Toner is Scarce. Things are running smoothly (such as they can be in a Lovecraftian realm of cosmic horror and insanity), until the recently dead essence of a short, loud man appears in the processing area and starts demanding to speak to a manager.
This kind of thing is normally below Narg’s pay grade now, but given his experience with the Flingers, he listens as the ghostly being gives a dire warning: something terrible is about to happen in Faninville, Texas. With Murph more interested in spending time with his noncorporeal girlfriend (read the first book), Narg is left alone to ponder the threat. The more he ruminates on it, the more he becomes convinced that a summoning is likely being planned (and an unauthorized one at that), and rather hastily decides to lone wolf it down to Earth. He finds himself in the recently deceased body of a bellhop for the Crockett Hotel.
A hotel which, wouldn’t you know it, is preparing to host a big gathering of spiritualists who visit every year on the celebration of the massacre the town is known for and strange dancing lights appear in the sky. Before long, Narg finds himself in strange territory, alone and not quite sure he can manage to get back. And this time, no one back at the office knows where he’s gone.
The characters
Our hero pair of Narg’Lah the shoggoth and his human companion Murph make return appearances, and their chemistry is just as good. The big change in this book is their “meatsuit”, the bellhop known as Cosmo. Though short of stature, it seems their vessel was a notirious philanderer of exceptional endowment. A regular “entertainer” of female staff and guests, particularly several members of the Sisters of the Spirit, part of the spritialist group staying at the hotel. They gain an altogether new appreciation for him once discovering he’d been declared legally dead and is now walking around again, beleiving his being to “the other side” makes him the perfect sacrifice for the afforementioned unauthorized summoning Narg was tipped off about.
The Sisters of the Spirit are headed by the gorgeous but decidedly (insert cuckoo clock noise) Lady Clytemnestra, who may or may not wield the secrets she learns about others in a blackmailing racket, and is covered in tattoos that make her abdomen a human Ouija board. Her diminutive and wizened assistant/chauffer Franklin is lacking in both looks and charm, but may be more than he seems.
But the boys aren’t completely without assistance; remember me mentioning the hotel’s haunted? That’s because it was built on the site of a notorious massacre of Texan soldiers at the hands of the Mexican Army. Their restless souls were trapped there, most vocal and prevelant among them being Gil, their captain. Having been stuck in the same spot for a hundred years, he’s intimately familiar with the comings and goings of the hotel staff. After seeing that he doesn’t scare Cosmo, the two become friends, with Gil even helping the two out at various points. In life he’d bartered with the Mexicans for safe passage for his men, only to be double-crossed on orders from Santa Ana himself. He’s still carrying around the guilt of their deaths, and his desire to see them “go home” at last becomes an irresistable temptation when the Sisters start making promises to him.
The world
The world is a bit less immersive this time around, as the story almost entirely takes place within the hotel. Cosmo is given meager room and board there, so he has little reason to leave the place, aside from the occasional errand such as a factfinding mission to a local museum. As I mentioned before, it is set in Depression-era Texas, which means the Spiritualist movement is en vogue, and segregation is still very much a thing. And on that note . . .
The politics
It’s revealed late in the story that the year is 1941. Society-wide racial segregation in Texas was in full force, and Griffis does not paper over this. He does however makes the smart decision to focus on the humanity of his characters rather than the injustice of the law. One great example is Harper, a black cab driver, who’s always there to help Cosmo out with a ride despite it being risky for him to pick up white passengers. He’s friendly and hardworking, and speaks in a patois true to the time and setting, as is also true of many of the hispanic characters in the book.
No doubt this brazen act of writing minority characters with culturally accurate dialogue would send a certain sub-sub-sub section of the reading populace into stroke-inducing paroxysms of rage; Griffis doesn’t care. He knows exactly what kind of story he wants to tell, and while there’s plenty of ink to spill over the policy of segregation in this country and the far-reaching consequences thereof, it’s not in his book. We’ve got a bellhop with a large member occupied by a shoggoth and a dead surfer trying to stop a cult.
Content warning
The climax of the first book culminated in the faculty of a college slicing their faces off with straight razors: thankfully nothing so graphic occurs in this book, although there is another scene of almost-sex and quite a number of jokes / refernces to Cosmo’s “Divine Gift”, especially early on.
Who is it for?
Fans of Griffis’ first novel (like myself) will enjoy this next installment of the Cthulhu Amalgamated series. The dynamic between Narg’Lah and Murph hasn’t lost a step, and there’s some satisfying character growth on both sides. Newcomers to the series who are fans of occult detective or horror comedy would find this a natural addition to their TBR pile. It’s not a standalone, though; I again implore anyone curious about this story to first treat themselves to the excellent The Thing From HR before picking this one up.
Why read it?
Griffis’ comedic treatment of Lovecraft’s mythos is, as I mentioned in my previous review, done with loving respect. Narg’Lah’s erudite commentary throughout is chock full of unrelenting dry wit, especially as he incorporates more human mannerisms into his speech and writing (such as calling Murph as his “homelad”). The comedy is funny, the characters are well fleshed-out, and the adventure is a fun ride. Even the afterword hides a spine-chilling final touch. Griffis’ books are a sure bet from beginning to end.