“What the hell is this all about? Apocalypse, ain’t no doubt.”

Former councilmember and war vet Henry Bouchot delivers a polyphonic, Kafkaesque novel that reads like a warning flare for our time. It begins with allegations of police brutality at a liberal arts college and spirals into civic collapse, exposing the fragile covenant that held a community together.

Think House of Cards meets Veep. Or an episode of The Wire guest-written by Camus and scored by D’Angelo.

Postmodern in form and biblical in scale, Public Record blends newspaper clippings, staff emails, council meeting minutes, and even strip-club ATM receipts into a prophetic indictment of American civic life— at once satire, lament, and reckoning.