A review by annica_reads_books
The Last Hour of Gann by R. Lee Smith

slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

 Once again, I’m left speechless after finishing an R. Lee Smith book. Book? Odyssey? An epic adventure that consumed two weeks of my life? Semantics aside, I know now that R. Lee Smith can write nothing less than legendary, life-changing stories that leave me awestruck. The Last Hour of Gann was dark, offensive, bleak, tragic, and beautiful—an unforgettable journey that is sure to linger in my mind for a long time.

They were doing something that had never been done, had never even been tested in any real practical way. Fear was a perfectly reasonable reaction, but it still didn’t change the fact that they were homeless, jobless and alone.

I have seen a few other reviewers mention that not many authors could have pulled this book off, and I have to agree with them. R. Lee Smith’s unique voice is one of the very few who have the ability or the audacity to write this story and do it justice – a story of desolation and little hope for humanity with a reverential tone. I can only speculate as to how she’s able to write these things so well, but I’ve found that she is an author who can consistently bring the this level of depravity to the reader without restraint, almost with a sense of normalcy. Her books may inspire a visceral reaction in the reader with their offensive, grotesque, and violent nature, but she never uses those things to intentionally shock. She simply tells her stories without barriers.

“We could all hear her under the wind—…[ ] —crying— [ ] —begging us to come back.” [ ] And we left her there anyway. [ ] We all walked away and pretended we didn’t see those big weasel-things at all, didn’t we? We pretended we never heard her screaming.”

It’s difficult to describe this book in a few short words, but saying that it’s a sci-fi horror erotica with a romance between a human atheist and a lizard-like alien religious zealot would be a good starting point. You might notice parallels with a few other stories, remarkably, Lord of the Flies and, oddly enough, Wall-E. It wouldn’t be an R Lee Smith book if there weren’t strong undertones of a larger message, a larger purpose to the storytelling. But, Smith never comes out and tells you how to feel or what to believe as she describes the conflict. The beauty of her work lies in asking you, the reader, the questions and letting you decide the answers for yourself.

“He can’t throw me out,” she scoffed. “He can call himself Captain or Commander or King of the fucking Fly-People for all I care, but he can’t make me leave if I don’t want to.”
Crandall gave her a crooked, scornful smile.
“There’s this other book they made us read in school called Animal Farm. Bet you never read that one either, huh?”
Amber rolled her eyes. “No. Is there a pig in it?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, there’s two. One’s a real smart pig who wants to help all the dumb sheep and dogs and chickens on the farm, you know, live a better life. The other one’s pretty much a talker. Guess which pig takes over and which one disappears?”
“What happened to the sheep?” asked Amber.
Crandall quit smiling.

Smith’s heroines are unparalleled, and Amber shot straight up to the top of the list of my favorites of hers. What’s endearing to me is that R. Lee Smith doesn’t write about traditionally beautiful women. Or, if they are traditionally beautiful, their characteristics are not necessarily attractive to their alien male counterparts. Amber is tenacious, sarcastic, fat (for a time), hilarious, and someone that Meoraq (the hero) frequently calls “ugly” in his internal monologue. Amber is someone that I think a lot of women can see themselves in. Her self-deprecating humor made me chuckle quite often in the book. The most relatable trait of Ambers is the way that she lets her little sister Nicci guilt trip her walk all over her. It frustrated me often in the book, but it’s hard not to compare her actions to real people that I know do the same thing.

“And you forced Nicci on the ship, you say. I doubt you had her tied and dragging behind you, but even if so, you put her on the ship because you would not leave her behind. That is who you are, Soft-Skin. So say whatever you like about how evil you are and how poor a person and how small of worth, but even in the midst of all that, remember that you still took the time to thank me.”

Meoraq is our story’s hero, aka the lizard man male love interest. He has a mean temper, is stubborn as hell, and is willing to say whatever’s on his mind despite being a “man” of God (a.k.a. Sheul). Meoraq is wise, and I found myself highlighting his words quite often. At times, he's a ruthless teacher, one who's willing to give the group of humans a wake-up call about survival, and someone who's willing to say the tough things when needed.

He knew that joy can be a terrible thing to feel, when you know you can’t have it every day.

He may believe that God had given him this babysitting job, but she also knew that if he started looking for divine signs to quit, they were one funny-shaped cloud away from losing him. And when that happened, they were dead.

I never imagined that I’d need a romance between a religious zealot and a fierce atheist, but holy hell, Meoraq and Amber were explosive together. Their conflicting ideologies were poignant at times and downright hilarious at others. Meoraq quite often loses his patience with humans, which makes him a perfect love interest for Amber.

“You are an aggravating woman,” he told her, his hand slipping around to the small of her back. “You make me feel things there are no words for. You make me want to do things I do not know how to do. You also make me very angry. How fortunate that these are the times I most desire you.”

“How can you say you’re not mine when you gave everything you had to me? Everything you are…God gave you to me,” he murmured, nuzzling under her jaw. “Even when I did not know how to ask. He found you anyway and put you in my path. You are the woman I was born into this world to find.”

“I have often thought that you argue with me solely because you enjoy argument. Now I know it.”

Thus far, The Last Hour of Gann has more world-building than any other work I’ve read by R. Lee Smith. It’s appropriate for this story, however, because unlike Land of the Beautiful Dead and Cottonwood (which take place on Earth), The Last Hour of Gann mainly occurs on an alien planet. In addition, the alien religion is an integral part of the plot and Meoraq’s character, and the reader must understand their religion for much of the book to make sense. So, if the page count and world-building aspect are intimidating to you, I advise starting with another one of Smith’s works before starting this one. The slow start in this book might be more bearable if you have the foresight from one of her other works to know how beautiful her stories can be.

“You learned to stand before you walked. You learned to crawl before you stood. You learned to roll onto your belly before you crawled. You learned which way was up before you rolled. So. You want to learn how to survive here, you say, but to teach you those things, I have to begin at the beginning. I am teaching you exactly how I was taught, with far, far less slapping than either I received or you deserve.”

While this book is bleak and gruesome, it is also laced with some of the best humor I’ve encountered in literature. I found myself laughing out loud while reading, which is something I rarely do.

“Amber tossed down her coal-stirring stick. “God sees us, huh?” “Yes.” “Right now?” He seemed puzzled by the question. “Now and always.” Amber looked at the clouds. “Could you possibly make this day any worse?” she demanded. A drop of rain hit her in the eye. Then another. And then the skies opened up and began to pour, killing the last coals in just a few steam-hissing seconds and drenching her to the skin.”

My review will never do the beauty of this book justice, and it’s not meant to. Buckle up and sit back because this story is very much about the journey, not just the destination. The Sci-Fi genre is something that had never appealed to me before discovering R. Lee Smith’s work, but she’s proven me wrong once again. I will read anything, literally anything, this author writes. You’re probably an excellent potential reader for this story if you read my entire review. Take a chance on this monumental adventure because you’re in for one hell of a dark ride. The Last Hour of Gann is a masterpiece that I’m sure not to forget.

“You told me once that truth isn’t always just what someone says,” said Amber after a moment. “But what something is. What it means.”

“Because you told me the truth, even when you thought it was something I did not want to hear. That is how I know how much you love me.”

P.S. Don’t let Goodreads and Amazon deceive you about this book’s length. Both sites have this book’s page count listed at 706 pages, but there’s just no way that’s accurate. Comparing the size of the paperbacks between this and Land of the Beautiful Dead, this book is significantly bigger, and if you open the pages, the font is much smaller in The Last Hour of Gann. If Land of the Beautiful Dead is 751 pages, this story is undoubtedly at least 1000 pages in length.

Triggers: (This is not a comprehensive list. Spaces are added below to allow readers to avoid spoilers)
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Human-alien copulation
Explicit rape scenes
Graphic horror elements
Sodomy
Suicide
Murder
Infanticide
Slavery
Fat-Shaming
Misogyny/Sexism
Religious blasphemy
Classism
And more.