The Witchfinder enjoys a book by controversial Canadian author Rachel Marsden.

The beautiful Rachel Marsden graces the cover of her book.

Rachel Marsden is a prolific and well-travelled Canadian author, a former TV news host who has written for national and international publications world wide. She is frequently vilified by the left because of her willingness to challenge their opinions in provocative and often satirical ways.

In real life Rachel is a sweet intelligent and charismatic woman with A-list model looks. However, given a writing tool of any kind she is unable to resist provoking leftists. Like many Conservative women she is often subject to discriminatory slurs on her mental health and morality such as in this despicable thread from left-wing hate site Democratic Underground.

The Witchfinder himself does not agree with nor endorse all of Rachel Marsden’s views but often enjoys the visible distress of the leftists who read them.

We turn then to the book, “American Bombshell: A Tale Of Domestic And International Invasion”. The book itself is an obvious Roman-à-Clef. Its lead character Catherine Carston is a Canadian born self-described Conservative who starts off working in Canadian journalism, before travelling to America and later to France to work as a TV Conservative.

One of the earliest incidents involves an interview where Carston debates with a feminist over budget cuts for a publicly funded Canadian rights group. Watching the video (here) Rachel’s character uses nearly identical words to Ms Marsden herself in real life. Oh wait – I’m getting them mixed up. That is Rachel in the video. The book is the fiction. The script however, in either case, is the same.

Later in the book Ms Marsden turns to French politics. The Bombshell satirises the Sarkozy administration with a series of surreal stories about Carston’s activities as his secret political advisor whilst at the same time detailing a torrid and spicy love affair between her heroine Carston and a troubled former French politician. Despite the politician’s serial infidelity. Carston is firm yet patient with her beau and succeeds in gaining some form of respect from her lover.

The sex scenes are also vivid – she writes “He fucked me so hard that I felt my spine bruising against the wood, and my cervix bruising against his own wood.”

Where the book falls down is in its failure to properly frighten those by whom Marsden has been wronged. If the Witchfinder was writing a Roman-à-Clef he would find it hard not to take the opportunity to put his enemies in fear of their lives with horror gorn style torture.

Something along the lines of (not a quote from Marsden) – “the man screamed and moaned on the table. I bathed in his blood as I opened his abdomen. For a time he writhed in pain as small fleshy chunks torn from his body formed a pile on the table. I giggled so hard that in the end I did not even notice when the writhing, and the breathing, ceased.”

Aside from that single missed opportunity the book is an insight into the soul of a complex but intelligent and charming woman and certainly worth splashing out on as a holiday novel. The Witchfinder recommends for holiday reading.