Excuse me,” Dan said, “but there really must be some mistake. You see, I can’t go down there; I’m an atheist.”
“Yeah?” The scrawny steward’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, I bet you feel like a right idiot now, then, don’t you?”
Most authors writing anything that focuses upon the “afterlife” – and on what happens to us after the point of physical demise – tend to pose a wide variety of “what if?” questions:
What if there is no heaven? What if there IS a heaven but they won’t let me in? What if God doesn’t really exist?
Within Robert Carter’s book, Sheer Purgatory, the two most pertinent questions are perhaps somewhat more unusual. First, “What if our safety on Earth was monitored at all times by guardian angels, who watched out for our every move and ensured that we get to live a rich and fulfilling life?” And second, “What if our guardian angel was a disastrous mix, whose abilities lay somewhere between Laurel & Hardy and Mr Bean?”
For poor Dan Trench – a man whose career is solely to clean and look after the lottery balls every week, thus earning him the unfortunate title “Keeper of the Balls” from his colleagues – this last scenario is sadly all too true. Thus, a life, destined to last a contented eighty-three years and end with a serene passing, ends up rather messily under the wheels of a number twelve London bus aged only twenty-five – due in no small part to his guardian angel getting hopelessly lost and missing his cue to avert Dan from a nasty demise.
For the angel, named Vic, it is one mistake too many (in a very long line of mishaps) and his wings are clipped by higher authorities, probably offering many further humans the chance of long and happy lives. However, for Dan, the damage is done and his day is utterly ruined. Not only does he not get to meet his girlfriend for dinner, but he finds himself thoroughly dead, with no chance to squeeze back into his body.
Worse still, the very, very long queue for heaven takes place not amongst Utopian clouds ascending upwards into a shining funnel of wondrous light, but rather in an underground tube station, the size of several Heathrow Airports – complete with angelic staff who seem determined to be abrasive and awkward at every turn, such as the archaic administrators at the “Commandments Verification Unit”, with a large line of Biblical questions concerning coveting neighbour’s asses and following “false gods”.
“Did you ever worship idols?”
“Definitely not,” Dan said.
“Certain about that?”
“Positive. Unless you count Led Zeppelin.”
“We don’t.”
If Dan’s day couldn’t get any worse, he is soon befriended by two fellow recent departures from Earth – Carlton: a loutish football hooligan with a slobbish disposition and an addiction for junk food, alongside Nena: a young, depressive, Goth female, whose hobbies include downing large quantities of drugs with bottles of vodka.
Welcome to Robert Carter’s tongue-in-cheek view of an afterlife “heaven” – which appears more like “hell” at times, especially for the hero of the story, Dan, for whom life after death quickly turns into one nightmare after another.
Not only is Purgatory completely unlike anything he had ever imagined, but the rumour going around is that finally the “Day of Judgement” may well be about to happen, depending precisely on when “The Boss” decides.
Not only do Dan, Carlton and Nena have to navigate their way around Purgatory and adapt to new – and often weird – surroundings, but each of them may only have a few weeks to discard a lifetime of mortal sins before the big day. Naturally, this latest gossip about Armageddon causes the entire population of Purgatory to sharpen up their game. Sins are to be shed before it’s too late. Crowds of people wander the streets of Purgatory like charity “chuggers”, looking to do good for others – even if they don’t want it. Gangs of “hoodies” sneak around housing estates, planting pretty flowers to make people smile, before running away in the shadows.
In Sheer Purgatory, the late author, who sadly passed away earlier this year, keeps the tempo at a fast pace; each page is supplied with a constant stream of jokes, puns and humorous quips.
It’s difficult at times to keep up with the stream of laughs, as poor Dan slides from one difficult scenario straight into another; whether it’s filling out endless, administrative forms just to get into Purgatory (familiar to anyone who has ever had to do battle with the Department of Employment, or any testy government official), or having to deal with the constant failings of his travelling companions and recently feather-plucked guardian angel, Vic.
Robert Carter not only maintains a brisk pace, but manages to deliver his words with a sense of depth and humanity – allowing the reader to slowly peel away layers of his characters, displaying deeper levels.
Robert also succeeds in creating a sense of wanting to read onwards – with characters who create images of mirth, alongside the gradual introduction of more sinister and shadier elements of the afterlife, and raising questions that positively beg to be answered in later chapters.
In memory of Robert Carter.
Our sincere condolences to Robert’s family.
Rest in peace.