Last Stand of Mr. America
Deep inside each of us there is a challenge: Individuality or Conformity? Action or Acceptance? One man, in spite of himself, is going to answer it. Sam is at the bottom of the American grave. His life a meaningless cycle of work and television. The only thing he has left—besides twisted explorations in an underground sex club—is his dark, cutting sense of humour. The Last Stand of Mr. America is an assault on the contemporary American tradition. Through transgendered dementia, a heterosexual liberates himself to find meaning in a void. The work is a purge of self: a redemption.
The Last Stand of Mr. America has moments of dark, raw, sex-stained poetry, as well as ejaculations of sneering adolescent hatred.
Story has it that when young San Francisco author Jason Flores-Williams heard that the U.K. publisher that discovered Irvine Welsh and a slew of similarly gritty "outsider" writers was interested in his novel, The Last Stand of Mr. America, Flores-Williams moved to Scotland to stoke the imprint's interest personally. The brash tactic worked; Canongate/Rebel Inc. will rerelease his once self-published novel in November. In the meantime, the "Caligula of American letters" is returning to the scene of the crime to share his nihilistic views of sex, gender politics, American apathy, and the abyss in the very city that nourished his sadistic little work of (de)moralizing erotica. While Flores-Williams' grim, graphic, and heavy-handed style may appeal most to those purposefully bankrupt readers who thought Welsh's Filth was a frolicking good time, there is no denying Flores-Williams' gift for prodding shadows with a cold, unwavering Maglite. In his San Francisco, sex club sadists are reduced to overgrown Dungeons & Dragons fanatics; kind, unpretentious transvestites slip in the cracks between natural-born femaleness and tranny affectation; women chase their fear by chasing casual sex; men chase their fear with lists, fists, liquor, Nietzsche, and the perfect balance of muscle tone and beer gut; and none but the dead are redeemed. In the eyes of Mr. America, everyone is corrupt or corruptible. Even for the innocents heard whimpering behind the walls, it's only a matter of time before they too are besmirched.
— SF Weekly, August 14, 2001
On August 18th, staggered by the whisky, JFW pleased alot and pissed off many, all of which can only lead to more publicity, and more books sold. JFW's ego floats on a body of work that may shape the future of the moribund American publishing experience. Last Stand is a unique American novel.
—ecastlenews.com, August 18, 2001
Jason Flores-Williams is a literary force of nature... A train wreck of genius.