Reading Chrissy Dargue’s Olympus or Oblivion feels like being dropped into a wild, bawdy, self-aware pantheon where celebrity fantasy, personal philosophy, and unapologetic filth collide in the most chaotic way possible. The book introduces itself as an erotic satirical anthology, then immediately proves it can deliver on all three fronts. Each chapter follows a fictional sexual encounter with a different Hollywood icon, framed as both myth and judgment, and the voice that guides it is loud, human, furious, sentimental, and very funny. It moves fast, plays hard, and somehow manages to build a whole moral framework while describing sexually explicit escapades. The tone is intimate and irreverent and completely in control of its own madness.

As I read, I kept feeling a blend of admiration and “what the hell just happened” amazement. The writing is quick, chatty, and sharply observant. It has that feeling of sitting with a friend who tells a story so confidently that you follow, even when it plunges off a cliff into a disaster of sex toys, tree frog cigarettes, emotional vulnerability, or misplaced anatomy lessons. I loved the honesty here. The narrator is flawed and hilarious and often furious at the world, yet there is so much heart behind the jokes. The Henry Cavill chapter swings between worship, frustration, and affection with an almost musical rhythm. Depp’s chapter, on the other hand, crashes into surreal farce, tenderness, and genuine madness, and the contrast really shows off what the author can do. I laughed a lot. I winced a lot. More than once, I was slightly horrified, then impressed by how quickly the story made that horror feel warm. There is something bold about how the book refuses to hide the narrator’s desires or insecurities. It made the comedy sharper and the emotional punches landed harder.

What surprised me most was the philosophical streak running under the chaos. For all the sex and satire, the book is also a meditation on power, desire, loneliness, and the strange ways we try to judge the people we want. The Olympian framing is funny but also revealing. Every encounter becomes a test, not for the celebrity but for the narrator’s own values, boundaries, and hunger for connection. Even the absurd moments, like fainting from frog toxins or sketching a diagram of a vulva to keep a confused man on track, carry a sort of emotional grit. The narrator wants to understand people. She wants to be understood in return. I found myself weirdly moved between the jokes. Sometimes the writing gets messy on purpose. Sometimes it hits a poetic rhythm that blindsided me. The mix works because the voice stays genuine.

I’d recommend Olympus or Oblivion to readers who enjoy sharp humour, chaotic storytelling, sex-positive honesty, and big, unstoppable personality. If you like fearless writing, emotional whiplash, and stories that show both the ridiculous and the tender parts of being human, this book will hit the spot. It’s funny and vivid and unexpectedly sincere, and it left me feeling like I had just witnessed someone telling the truth in the most unhinged and heartfelt way possible.

Pages: 401 | ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0FLQL7VHN