On some level, we all love a good conspiracy. The Illuminati controlling all celebrities and people of power for some nefarious purpose, the FBI covering up alien invasions or maybe some secret possibly government-funded corporation experimenting on the minds of societal rejects. This is the plot of Julia Elliot’s novel "The New and Improved Romie Futch." Romie Futch is a middle-aged, fat, balding, alcoholic taxidermist who lives in a decrepit trailer mourning his not super recent divorce. He is stupid, unmotivated and peaked (if you could call it a peak) in high school, where he met his now ex-wife. This guy’s life is the pits until he signs on to allow scientists to poke his brain in the name of science. Now he’s downloaded an education in the humanities and is unleashed back into the world and develops an Ahab-level obsession with a massive wild boar nicknamed “Hogzilla” terrorizing the anonymous southern state where he lives.

I love this book. It’s gory, clever, dark and oozes brilliant writing. Elliot throws the reader head-on into a world completely unfamiliar. As the old saying goes, don’t judge a book by its cover, but this time, I’d advise you otherwise as the cover of this particular book features an enormous fire-breathing boar made of geometric shapes chasing a shadowy figure. It promises adventure, and something entirely new. I can honestly say I’ve never encountered anything like this book. Romie is the epitome of the anti-hero, he begins crass, depressed and pretty racist but makes the turn around everyone wants with just a little bit of education.

I do warn you, this book is not for the faint of heart. I am a fan of gratuitous violence but the nonchalance with which Elliot flings taxidermy is truly awe-inspiring. She makes it beautiful while still managing to gross you out, which is an impressive feat. Right alongside pig guts and mutated frogs Elliot poses her characters, who are all similar to Romie in some way, in an environment where people who grew up poor and uneducated, who’ve been spat on by fortune at every turn, are given the opportunity and the vocabulary to throw some hard hitting truth on the society that bred them. When someone like Romie Futch is given the opportunity to say, “Power is money. Power is positional. Power is rooted in hierarchical observation.” You know you’re in for a treat. As a book-y person, I’m pretty proud of my vocabulary, but this 40-something hillbilly had me running for the dictionary and collecting new words like “pulchritudinous,” “sprezzatura” and “pedagogy." I guarantee, however, smart you are, however well read, these washed up hillbillies will teach you something about literature you did not know. And if you’re like me, it’s an exciting feeling. I found myself wishing for a brain dump like the ones are featured in this novel so I too could sling six-syllable words with the efficiency and casualness of these guys, no matter the inevitable consequences. If you want to go for an adventure with an overweight 40-year-old taxidermist through the marshes of Southernville, U.S., then this is the book for you.