While Crowley is decidedly an interesting thinker, he is a far cry from a capable writer.

The book in its entirety has perhaps 80 pages of actual, relevant, intriguing PLOT. To be fair, the plot itself is rather thin. Beyond that, Crowley waxes verbose about a multitude of topics that somehow "relate" to the story and yet do not affect the reader's enjoyment or understanding of the novel whatsoever. The ending of the book, in my personal opinion, is an utter rebuke of the last 300+ pages that Crowley took the effort to write. Essentially while he struggles to make a semantic and aesthetic point to the ending of the story, it is, plainly stated, a lackluster cop-out.

Time has also not aged this book well. Crowley's implicit misogyny shines through in a multitude of passages and he treats his female characters as paper thin waifs subjected to the will of their own desires. Add to this a healthy dose of racist comments and you've got a wonderful recipe for a cauldron fire of a book.

I wanted to like this. The plot seemed interesting (Before it was abandoned about 50 pages near the end). The moments where Crowley actually attempts to create a story are truly enjoyable. Some of his turns of phrase, while convoluted, made me laugh out loud. Yet ultimately, Moonchild is not worth your time.

Hey, at least the cover art is cool.