Lornographic Material

Baal is Rosemary's Baby and The Omen and Megido all rolled up in one burrito. The best parts about the novel are the opening and final acts, basically the first and last fifty pages of the book. I was successfully dragged into a character drama concerning a couple trying to cope with a pregnancy after the wife is raped and brutalized. Then the book changed, drastically, and I quickly lost interest in what seemed to be a religious thriller with supernatural undertones. Then it changed again, morphing into an end of days scenario before wrapping up with a strong action-packed finale. 

While Baal is well-written, I could almost feel McCammon's growing pains. He seemed to want so much out of this book, but couldn't quite settle on one coherent theme. What's the worst part about humanity? Our sex drive? Our tendency to lean toward violent resolutions over peaceful ones? The Kardashians? I keed, I keed... 

In summation: Only read Baal if you're a completionist. And please, please, for Tom Cruise's sake, do not make this the first McCammon book you read.