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��I AM ALIVE. ALL OF YOU ARE DEAD�� is undoubtedly one of the most intriguing graffiti one could read on the wall of a men’s lavatory. But in a Phildickian story, this takes an even stranger and deeper meaning. Ubik is a novel about the interlocking natures of life and death, the embedded, matryoshka-like structure of reality, the possibility of time receding backwards, and a menagerie of characters with paranormal powers: telepaths, precogs, retcons, inertials, and all the rest of it.

But as disorientating as it may be, Ubik is also an incredibly entertaining novel, with action scenes, plot twists, and big reveals at every turn; not to mention an irresistible sense of humour, with zany character descriptions, everyday objects which behave like rude customer service representatives or possess mind-bending properties. Ubik, for instance, is at the same time a vacuum cleaner, a beer brewed in Cleveland, a drip coffee brand, a new taste of salad dressing, a pain-killer, a self-winding never-ending blade, a plastic coating liquid, a consumer credit solution, a hair conditioning and deodorant spray, a sleeping pill, a French toast, a bra, a wrap, flakes, God Himself�� when taken as directed.

But Phil Dick doesn’t stop there. Just like his multi-layered, often unreliable subworlds, the meaning of his alleged pulp sci-fi novel is (to he who has ears) packed with metaphysical mentions/allusions, such as the teachings of the Bardo Thodol, Plato’s theory of ideal forms, the narrative of the New Testament, Dante’s frozen 9th circle of Hell, Descartes�� ��malin génie��, Spinoza’s pantheism, or Leibniz’s multiverse metaphysics.

The upshot of all this is a spellbinding blend of fast-paced mystery, soft spec-fic, and esoteric madness. Its influence on late-20th-century American literature (David Foster Wallace is a prominent example) and cinema (The Matrix, The Truman Show, Inception among others) is considerable.

Read with my old-time reading m8, Michelle; check out her review here (use as directed).