The Undertaker: Death Transition (The Undertaker #1)

The Undertaker: Death Transition, by John Doe

“January, 1968”  Pernicious Books

Over the years I’ve gotten frequent emails from people asking me if I’d be interested in reviewing their book; in most cases the novel in question is a modern thriller and usually it’s an ebook. That’s cool, and I would never want to dash the dreams of a writer, but I’ve got my own ebooks I never mention on the blog. This first volume of The Undertaker however is a completely different thing. Not only is it inspired by vintage men’s adventure novels, but it is an exact replica of them, from the physical dimensions of the book, to the length (187 big-print pages), to the feel of the pulpy paper it’s printed on. There’s even a pseudo-“More to come” advertisement page at the back of the book! Indeed, the vibe I got when I received this book was that someone had invented a time machine, gone back to 1974 or thereabouts, and grabbed a paperback off the rack in a bus station. I’ve put together quite a collection of vintage paperbacks, but this is the first time I’ve ever gotten the impression of what one of them looked like when they were brand new. 

So, just to clarify from the outset, this review will be unusual in that Death Transition is not a novel you can find on Amazon or Abebooks or etc. (Yet?) Only a few copies of Death Transition exist, and my copy was a gift to me from the auhtor, John Doe, who in fact wasn’t even certain he wanted me to review the novel on the blog. But I just had to; this is a necessary book, and series protagonist The Undertaker is the hero we need in today’s crazy world. My only hope is that this review generates enough interest that Pernicious Books becomes a real thing, with a website where you can order this initial novel and the ensuing volumes… 

So far there is only one other volume, and author John Doe kindly sent me a copy of it, too. In an email he mentioned to me that the books are “supposed to be satirical. But, in today’s climate…well, there’s no such thing as satire.” Mr. Doe also told me that his inspiration for the series was The Destroyer, and this is quite evident throughout Death Transition. Thankfully not in the spoofy, overly-satirical vibe of that series, but in the madcap, almost surreal nature of the events. But the big difference here is that no matter how satirical things get in Death Transition, the events are still serious to the characters themselves. My main problem with The Destroyer has always been that everything in those books seems like a joke, with neither the authors nor the characters taking anything seriously. Things are deadly serious in Death Transition, but the situations and supporting characters are so over-the-top that it all feels like a natural successor to something like Last War Dance. 

There’s no number in the title, but this is the first volume of The Undertaker. You will not find an origin story here, however. Indeed the titular Undertaker does not make his actual appearance until late in the novel. And also I’m bummed to inform you that the cover is more symbolic than literal; at least in this first volume, The Undertaker does not wear a skull mask, a la some newfangled pulp hero. He is a master of disguise, though, and John Doe capably builds the character up so that he is very believable. But then, Doe proves himself to be a fine writer throughout the book; even the pseudonym he’s given himself for this series is apropos, in that “John Doe” is the generic name for an unidentified male corpse. This lends the entire affair a metatextual vibe, as the titular Undertaker is literally…an undertaker. One who is more comfortable around corpses than he is in the world of the living. 

Another thing that gives this series a unique spin on classic men’s adventure novels is that The Undertaker isn’t devoted to taking on the Mafia or terrorists or the like: instead, he is devoted to destroying the woke mob. Whereas vintage mob-busters like Mack Bolan or Ben Martin got their start due to some personal loss, The Undertaker has become enraged at the maddened state of the world and the woke ideology that has gotten us here. I’ve frequently mentioned a site I enjoy: Ace Of Spades HQ. While the site might be given the dreaded “alt-right” tag, in reality it’s a sort of commentary on the insanity of today, using actual news stories as evidence. If the Ace of Spades website was a novel, it would be Death Transition. Even the mordant sense of humor is the same. I mean if you can’t laugh at the collapse of Western civilization, what can you laugh at?  But if you only read one post at that site, make it this one, as it is very related to the plot of Death Transition. 

The copyright page facetiously states “January 1968” as the publication date, but this is just part of the “vintage” schtick that extends to the entire paperback; in reality, Death Transition takes place in October of 2021. The majority of it takes place on the specific date of October 30th; Doe plays interesting tricks with time, jumping around to various times on this particular day. We are in the height of the Covid era, with masks being virtuously worn by the woke and “social distancing” practiced even at funerals. Which is how the novel opens, and in fact is how I knew I was going to love this book. Because folks never in my life did I think I’d ever read an opening chapter that takes place at a child’s funeral…and find myself laughing. Within a few pages I already knew that John Doe had written the book I needed to read in these shitty times, with a poor little girl dead and the mourning “parents” at her funeral more concerned about people keeping their masks on. It became even more darkly humorous when the information was gradually revealed that the dead child had committed suicide…and also that “she” had been born a boy. And her mourning parents were really a pair of lesbians. 

In his email John Doe told me that Death Transition was “horribly homophobic…that’s the entire theme, in fact.” And boy does he carry this theme through to hilarious extent. This is almost the equivalent of Boy Wonder in how a gifted author displays his savage humor, without any apology. No doubt Death Transition would offend many…and yet at the same time, the virtues our hero The Undertaker espouses were considered common decency at one time. But we live in clown world now, where down is up and right is wrong…where everything once considered indecent is championed. And thanks to the cancel culture that is part and parcel of this woke revolution, a person can’t even voice his opinon unless it is completely aligned with the approved messaging. 

The plot of the novel seems to be inspired by the real-world case of a man here in Texas who has been fighting against his ex over possession of his son. And again it’s a matter of where you get your news from that will determine how you understand the story. The mainstream outlets will tell you that the father constantly “misgenders” his son…who is being transitioned into a girl, which is what the father is fighting against. What makes the story even crazier is that it’s not even the child’s biological mother who is pushing for the transition. There’s more to the story, and I admit I haven’t fully researched it (you can read about it here...and, uh, get a glimpse of the opposing party), but I know enough to guess that Death Transition is inspired by it. With one small change: the poor child is dead at novel’s opening. But when the corpse is taken to the Milton Funeral Home, the killings begin…the killings of anyone who played a part in the child’s transition. 

This is the setup, but Death Transition is more of a police procedural, in that we are brought into the madness via a new recruit on the Milton County Sheriff’s Department: Deputy Ivan Gore. Recently moved from his native Georgia to the never-named state in which the novel is set, Gore is a 27 year-old married man who starts the novel as a concerned cop but ends it as a guy who wonders what has happened to the world…and whether The Undertaker is a murderer or a hero. If the Destroyer parallel plays out in future volumes, then Gore will certainly be the Remo to The Undertaker’s Chiun; author John Doe craftily weaves his theme into the backround, with Gore’s family having run a funeral home in Georgia. This all is masterfully played out in a dialog exchange toward the end of the novel; Gore only has one face-to-face meeting with The Undertaker, at novel’s end, but it definitely creates anticipation for their next meeting. 

Gore is called to the scene of the first killing, in which the lesbian parents have been murdered…and mutilated. Gore and his colleague, a redhead named Harris, inspect the scene with mounting revulsion; the two female corpses have been posthumously “transitioned” themselves, with hacked-off bodyparts being used as sexual appendages. It’s so horrific that Harris pukes – a recurring joke, as he pukes again at the next gory crime scene. John Doe definitely has a knack for memorable characters; there’s also Gore’s boss, boisterous Sheriff Bullard, who spends the entire novel worrying about early voting. There’s also a hilarious part where the Sheriff orders Gore to attend diversity training, and then obliviously goes on about how “black girls wear their hair in Georgia.” This is the sort of thing I mean with the Destroyer similarities; the characters in this novel are caricatures, but they’re fun caricatures, and very believable to boot. Particularly the woke ideologues who are behind the depravity that has befallen the city. 

Doe’s critical eye extends to the legal realm, with another hilarious bit involving a social justice judge who has literally replaced the US flags in her coutroom with rainbow flags. She and her effete assistant will be the next victims of The Undertaker; the link here is that the judge’s virtue-signalling directives are what caused the little boy to be transitioned, despite the father’s protests that the boy displayed no evidence of wanting to be a girl. Doe plays this sequence out skilfully, with The Undertaker posing as a photographer from a woke website and having the two stage his photo…while also staging themselves for the kill. Another violent scene that causes Deputy Harris to puke, and where Gore will be the only cop who suspects something mysterious about these murder scenes. In fact, Gore is the only cop who even manages to deduce what’s really going on…more evidence that he will ultimately become the Remo figure of the series. 

The most darkly humorous sequence in Death Transition follows soon thereafter. John Doe spoofs that inexplicable fad of today: drag queen story hour, in which transvestites read books to children. The Undertaker attends such a reading, his revulsion mounting – as does the transvestite’s tumescence as he has the little kids touch him while he reads. This leads to another grisly climax, as The Undertaker makes short and bloody work of Twinkle the drag queen. Before that happens, though, there’s a hilarious running dialog among some of the mothers that’s so Warren Murphy-esque I had to share it:

The capital city of Milton County is Pandemont, a metropolis that’s much different than the small town Gore was previously a cop in. But Pandemont also acts as an amalgamation of every “blue city” in the US, so devoted to wokeism that society itself has been transformed. During the investigation of these murders, Gore finds himself more taken aback at the situation that led to the murders than the murders themselves. He cannot believe the depravity that is out in the open; in particular he is revolted when he learns of the commonplace practice among teenaged Pandemont girls of getting pregnant so their breasts will get larger, and then having an abortion. Gore’s growing confusion of what is really wrong is nicely summarized when he calls up his wife and realizes he doesn’t want to keep the gory crimes from her so much as he does the nature of Pandemont itself: 

The novel climaxes with a tense sequence in which, as mentioned, Gore and The Undertaker finally meet. The buildup to this is masterfully done; I was really caught up in this novel, and found myself putting off other things to keep reading it. There’s also a great reveal, which I won’t spoil, in which the reader spends the majority of the novel thinking that a particular character is someone else entirely. While there isn’t any Executioner-type gun-blazing action in Death Transition, it still has the vibe of a vintage men’s adventure publication, only brought into our modern miserable age. And man did it make me excited to read the next volume, which per John Doe is “more fun.” And hey, with an inflammatory title like Black Lives Murder (!), how could it not be? 

Finally, here’s one last look at Death Transition: the back cover, which is an exact replica of something Pinnacle might have published. Of course it goes without saying that no publisher would have the guts to release something like this today: