Free hardcover books were rather aggressively handed out at Colorado Mesa University’s (CMU) University Center and plaza. The books, titled “Rin, Tongue and Dorner” by Rich Shapero are thick hardcovers with shiny dust jackets depicting eye-catching artwork. 

My first encounter with Rich Shapero’s writing was while I was a student at Colorado State, and once again, copies of his books were passed out in the plaza. I ended up with four copies of “Arms From the Sea” shoved into my possession, and although I never got the chance to read the novel, I did give a copy to my brother. He came home bewildered after reading it, saying it was riddled with strange sexual overtones. 

As a novelist myself, I had so many questions. What’s with the “immersive multimedia experience” thing? Why are the people handing them out so insistent? And what author in their right mind would give awayhardcover copies by the thousands?

So, when another one of Shapero’s novels appeared at CMU, I grabbed a copy. On the very first page, I came upon the phrase, “They had a desperate need, and they entered his ears, goading, promising, caressing his chest and drubbing his thighs, circling his belly and the hooked organ rising from his groin.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa! I was baffled and uncomfortable. What are these books?

According to a quick Wikipedia search, Rich Shapero is a venture capitalist who spent part of his wealth on his projects, including the most recent “Rin, Tongue and Dorner” book and accompanying multimedia elements. Shapero’s website states, “I want people to see what I’ve done. I have no commercial motive. I’m like a street musician playing for whoever might have the interest to stop and listen.”

Amid a wealth of one-star Amazon reviews and scathing Goodreads takes, Shapero’s perspective is that he explores the realms of human subconsciousness, and hopes to connect with others who see the world from a similar point of view. 

The multimedia aspect of the novels are the cover art and a series of musical works that accompany the story. The goal, as far as I can tell, is to portray an aesthetic through multiple creative venues and connect them all together.

Now that I had some information, it was time to dive in again. 

Mckenzie Moore for The Criterion

Once I’d gotten past the sexual parts, I was actually a little intrigued. The book takes place in the future, when the Earth is undergoing another ice age and the human population lives in floating dome cities at the Equator. In order to maintain a stable temperature inside, residents must control their emotions in order to keep their body temperatures at a regular level. With so many feelings being repressed, it made for a strange dynamic in the main character Dorner’s subconscious. That was interesting. There was a lot of potential for there to be a really cool story about that. 

But Shapero focuses most of the plot’s attention on Dorner’s sexual encounters, both in his mind and in the waking world. Phrases like “a dark expectancy churned in Rin’s groin […] Tongue’s jaws yawned at the head of the canal, her scaly length tangling in the tubes and trees” and “the bowed organ gleamed before her, scarlet in the spectral light, quivering like a serpent about to strike” are scattered through the story, and interesting plot points are lost to in-depth descriptions of physical arousal. 

Dorner’s character feels one-dimensional and the dialogue is flat. The plot moves rapidly and in random directions, making the story difficult to follow. There is no development. The language, at times, is so flowery that it muddies the effect of the writing. There was potential for this book to be an interesting read, but it focuses too much on sex and not enough on anything else, making it feel more like smut than a sci-fi novel. 

As the story continued, it only got more and more disturbing. It was grotesque to the point of being nearly impossible for me to read. I wish I’d spent my valuable college-senior time reading literally anything else. When people saw me reading “Rin, Tongue and Dorner” and recognized the cover, they asked me if they should give it a chance.

My response? “Absolutely not.”

The multimedia thing is interesting. There’s no denying that the cover art for Shapero’s books is gorgeous, and the musical accompaniment is creative. The setting of the story is fascinating, and of course, I’m always down for free books. 

But no amount of flamboyant writing can compensate for a bad plot. Maybe there’s something I’m missing, or I just didn’t understand the story, but from my perspective, the book felt like a projection with a plot that didn’t hold up and such frequent disturbing sexual imagery that it buried any chance of half-decent literature. 

To put it simply: it was just really, really gross.

I don’t know why the people handing these books out are so unrelenting, and I’m a little scared to find out. I guess it’s a lesson to never trust anything being handed out for free in a university plaza. 

Image courtesy of Mckenzie Moore | The Criterion