This is one of my favorite books ever. PKD starts us off with tragedy. He mixes in a good deal of psychological mystery. Or is it political intrigue? Wait, no, it’s gnostic theologizing. Are the pink lasers from Russia, outer space or an LSD flashback?

Put it this way: the protagonist (and author?) splits into two people near the beginning, and you’re not sure whether it’s not you, the reader, who’s gone insane. It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane, as the author himself suggests.

It does a superb job of depicting those first moments of many spiritual journeys: Something uncanny happens. Somebody predicts the future, and they’re right. A miracle happens. Something the doctors can’t explain. Something science says can’t happen has just happened to you. How do you account for the world now? How do you figure it out?

You call out, “Who is it? Who’s doing this?” and something ancient and terrible seizes you with Lovecraftian hands. And fixes your soul like a mechanic with an engine.

VALIS also, sadly, depicts the end that many spiritual journeys come to. Dissipated in doubt. Old psychoses, addictions and bad relationships come back. It’s not a triumph. It reminds me, in that way, of the Tim Tebow CFL Chronicles.

PKD’s best work, I think. This inspired me eight ways from Sunday.

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