Review by Frank Plowright

The Squirrel Machine is a demented gothic fantasy, an utterly original celebration of the grotesque and indescribable. It’s set in a Waltons-era past recognisable visually, but one in which strange mechanical contraptions and diseased creatures are part of the landscape. We’re introduced to Edmund in late middle age, the sole carer for his brother William, who lies corpulent in his bed, capable of speech, but in most aspects more resembling an animal than a human.

Hans Rickheit’s career is characterised by a ceaseless desire to disturb, yet while not averse to the visceral shock, his methods are generally more intelligent, fusing a dreamlike imagination with precise, attractive art. The title alone activates curiosity. What is a squirrel machine, and what purpose could it serve?

The youthful Edmund’s world is one of secret passages to bizarre locations, solitary voyeurism and indulgence in perverse practices featuring impossible creatures. His elderly widowed mother is busy sustaining the family, leaving Edmund and William with far greater freedom than would be possible in a stricter household, and the brothers follow where instinct leads. It means they witness far greater horrors than the bullying they endure as they wander unfettered through arcane constructions. That’s the point, and any narrative string is loose.

As seen on the sample art, the Torpor brothers express themselves by creating haunting musical instruments from animals and piping. It’s not the usual science fair entry, that’s for sure. If you’re attuned to the idea, though, it’s also very funny, as is so much about The Squirrel Machine, despite it being played as horror. Can you think of another creator who supplies the coyly erotic sexual release in such a distinctive manner as the other sample page? It also displays Rickheit’s dedication to artistic detail in lushly inked pages. At times they could be the work of Jeff Smith.

When Rickheit has Edmund claim a true artist is rarely understood by his peers one wonders how far this is his own comment. He certainly ploughs a narrow furrow, serving up the unspeakable exceptionally well, yet with a surreal imagination, a combination to appeal to a select audience without ever earning him anything other than cult status. However, such material tends to outlive any current fad, and while published in 2009, The Squirrel Machine retains its visceral ability to shock again and again while completely exceeding expectation.