Book Review: 'Mushroom Blues' by Adrian M. Gibson

Reviewer: Michael Vadney

Mushroom Blues by Adrian M. Gibson is a striking debut that dives deep into the gritty, noir-inspired genre the author dubs "Fungalpunk." This unique blend of noir and speculative fiction immediately sets the tone for a world as strange as it is fascinating.

First, let's talk about world-building, because Mushroom Blues certainly puts the 'mushroom' in its title. Initially, the constant references to myco-this and mushroom-that were overwhelming, but the helpful glossary at the front eased the immersion. Once I got accustomed to the shroom-inspired lexicon, the descriptions became more fluid, and I found myself deeply invested in the biological plausibility of this strange, fungal world. The Fungals, or mushroom people, felt grounded, their existence a product of evolution rather than magic, despite the biological interpretation of the story’s magic system.

From the first line—"No good day ever started with death before coffee"—Gibson establishes his noir credibility. The novel is unflinchingly raw, tackling heavy themes like sexism, racism, and colonialism head-on. Henriette, the protagonist, is a gender-bent twist on the classic brooding noir detective. Her flaws are painfully real, and her journey of self-destruction and redemption feels authentic. Told through her first-person perspective, the story draws you into her inner turmoil and motivations, making her growth throughout the novel organic and believable.

The supporting characters in Mushroom Blues are just as colorful. Cissy, for instance, is a refreshing presence, a cool breeze amidst the darkness. Ridgeway was another standout, and I looked forward to every scene he appeared in. However, Koji, the primary supporting character, felt more one-dimensional. He clearly serves as a narrative device to catalyze Henriette’s transformation, but beyond that, he lacks depth. That said, he still offers a fascinating lens into the intricacies of fungal society.

One area where the book stumbles slightly is in its handling of certain themes. At times, the narrative becomes heavy-handed, especially when addressing the darker social issues. While Gibson generally does a good job of weaving these themes into the story, some scenes felt overly constructed to deliver a moral lesson, pulling me out of the story. The attempts to draw direct comparisons between Henrietta’s struggles and the plight of the Fungals sometimes felt forced, although the broader message of unity—"we are all the same"—comes across more naturally in other sections.

I also had mixed feelings about a pivotal moment around five-sixths into the book. Gibson attempts to convey the healing power of mushrooms and psychedelics, but the situation leading up to it, and the characters' reactions, felt at odds with the established tone. While the scene was beautifully written, even breathtaking in its descriptions, it created a sense of dissonance within the story’s darker atmosphere.

On the topic of prose, Gibson’s writing often shines. There were several moments that made me pause and reread a line just to appreciate the craftsmanship. One of my favorites: “Pain smeared its ugly form across his features, dragging him down like gravity.” Moments like this elevate the novel, showcasing Gibson’s ability to deliver powerful, poetic imagery.

All in all, Mushroom Blues is a remarkable debut that expertly blends classic noir elements with innovative world-building and deep character work. It’s a slow burn but filled with enough tension and mystery to keep readers hooked. After reading this, I’ll never look at mushrooms quite the same way again.

Purchase Mushroom Blues by Adrian M. Gibson

Michael Vadney is the host of the Author Adjacent podcast and Managing Editor of MoonLit Getaway.