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What I want more than anything right now is for some fashion designer or talented artist to do a series of illustrations of the clothing in this book. When it comes to ludicrous future fashions, Ubik is the Ur-text. Among the outfits described herein are the following racy numbers:

� green felt knickers, gray golf socks, badger-hide open-midriff blouse and imitation patent-leather pumps [Al Hammond]

� a Continental outfit: tweed toga, loafers, crimson sash and a purple airplane-propellor beanie [Herbert Schoenheit von Vogelsang]

� his customary natty birch-bark pantaloons, hemp-rope belt, peekaboo see-through top and train-engineer's tall hat [GG Ashwood]

� his usual mohair poncho, apricot-colored felt hat, argyle ski socks and carpet slippers [GG Ashwood]

� ersatz vicuna trousers and a gray sweatshirt on which had been printed a now faded full-face portrait of Bertrand Lord Russell [Tippy Jackson]

� a polyester dirndl, his long hair in a snood, cowboy chaps with simulated silver stars. And sandals. [Don Denny]

� a sporty maroon wrapper, twinkle-toes turned-up shoes and a felt cap with a tassel [Joe Chip]

� his electric-yellow cummerbund, petal skirt, knee-hugging hose and military-style visored cap [standard office worker]

I mean…I can't even picture half of those in my head. Hence the desperate need for a good illustrator.

Somewhere underneath all this sartorial psychedelia is a nervy, pacy, metaphysical horror story which I thought was hugely enjoyable. Set in yet another future vision of America, where the dead can be kept responsive for months in a ‘half-life�, and where there is a delicate balance between those with telekinesis and those with ‘antipsionic� abilities, it sets up a Truman-Show-style nest of paranoia where � as often with Dick � you've never completely sure which layer is the real one, even after you've closed the book. If this doesn't turn out to be one of my favourites of his, I'll eat my apricot-colured felt hat.