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From The New York Times Book Review
In the annals of American political satire, few premises are as audacious—or as strangely compelling—as the one at the heart of The Wolf Man of Washington, the debut novel from former journalist and infamous polemicist Andrew Anglin. Having obtained an early manuscript, I’ve read the first three chapters. The result? Equal parts fascination, bafflement, and reluctant admiration.
Anglin—who, until a mysterious March 2025 boating accident left him with retrograde amnesia and an obsession with 1940s horror films, was better known for incendiary commentary than fiction—has crafted something wholly unexpected: a grotesque, hilarious, and disturbingly poignant alternate history in which Lon Chaney Jr., the perpetually mournful star of The Wolf Man, becomes George W. Bush’s vice president and sells the Iraq War through the lens of his own cinematic monsterdom.
A Surreal, Savage Satire
The opening chapters introduce us to a post-9/11 America where Chaney, having traded Hollywood for the White House, frames Saddam Hussein as a Universal Pictures-style villain—complete with grave pronouncements about “cursed weapons” and “the full moon of tyranny.” Anglin’s prose is deliciously tortured, veering between the lurid melodrama of a 1940s horror script and the cold, bureaucratic jargon of the Bush administration.
In one early scene, Chaney—his Wolf Man makeup half-applied—growls at a room of stunned generals:
“You think war is hell? Try being trapped in a man’s body when the Pentagon Wolf howls!”
Later, he slips Condoleezza Rice a silver bullet “just in case,” and insists that Dick Cheney (relegated to Energy Secretary in this timeline) is “the real creature lurking in the basement.”
It’s absurd, grotesque, and yet—somehow—eerily plausible.
The Perplexing Author Behind the Curtain
The bigger mystery, of course, is Anglin himself. Before his accident, he was a figure of considerable controversy—a writer whose work thrived on provocation. Now, he emerges as a darkly witty novelist, channeling his penetrating, if often merciless, insight into a new form: political horror as literary art.
Is this reinvention genuine? A calculated pivot? Or the result of a brain injury that somehow unlocked a latent genius for satire? The book offers no answers—only a story so bizarre it demands to be read.
Early Verdict
The Wolf Man of Washington is not a perfect novel—it’s messy, uneven, and at times so meta it threatens to collapse in on itself. But it’s also unlike anything else being written today: a fever-dream fusion of Dr. Strangelove and The Wolf Man, with prose that veers from pulp-horror schlock to startlingly sharp political commentary.
Will it be a cult classic? A career-killing misfire? Too soon to say. But one thing’s certain: You’ve never read a book like this before.
MORE TO COME: Full review to follow upon the book’s release.
