The book opens with a scene from a real estate office. Helen Hoover Boyle and her assistant Mona listen to a police scanner for deaths (and potential sales) and field calls from frightened new homeowners who have bought what Helen calls "distressed" (haunted) houses. Helen sells the same homes over and over, creating a niche market with a steady income.
Chapter two is from the perspective of an unknown character, whose identity isn't revealed until much later in the book. This narrator is hunting miracles: the Flying Virgin, who appeared in New Mexico and wrote "STOP HAVING BABYS" in the sky with a can of Bug-Off brand insect fogger; the Roadkill Jesus Christ/I-84 Messiah, who restores dead animals to their pre-accident conditions; the Judas Cow, at the Stone River Meatpacking plant in Nebraska, who refused to lead a herd of cows into the slaughterhouse, and instead took a seat and spoke at length about giving up meat, taught its audience a Hindi song, and answered questions about the nature of life and death.
The third chapter brings us to Carl Streator, a journalist trained to note details. Assigned to do a series of stories on crib death for the Lifestyles section of his newspaper, he visits the parents and homes of recently deceased babies. On his first visit, he notes, among other things, an open library book on a wicker chest in the nursery. This book, Poems and Rhymes from Around the World, is open to page 27. Carl diligently writes down the eight-line traditional African poem - a culling song, a lullaby, the book says - in his notes. This poem shows up at each of the homes he visits; he's found a pattern.
In his editor's office, he reads the poem aloud. The next day, the editor doesn't show up for work.
Carl has a problem with anger management and soon discovers bodies piling up around him. Mona, the realtor's assistant, is a Wiccan who recognizes Carl's power and the story just gets stranger from there. Carl, Helen, Mona, and Mona's boyfriend Oyster set out on a road trip to track down and destroy every copy of the poem.
Palahnuik's writing style is sometimes choppy and repetitive, which took a little to get used to. This story, which might be considered a magical realism murder mystery, is brilliantly conceived. The plot doesn't just twist, it writhes. For a little while, I had no idea what was going on. I became mildly frustrated. But I was already hooked, so I pressed on and finally things started coming together. The trip was worth it. And I think Palahniuk effectively taps into that irritated, misanthropic side of humanity that would never publicly admit that, "Yeah, once in awhile, I wouldn't mind having a culling song handy..."
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