Why Dr. Bloodmoney Is the Strangest Post-Apocalyptic Story You'll Ever Read

Philip K. Dick continues his trend of writing some of the strangest novels imaginable, and I’m all here for it! His works are endlessly fascinating, and Dr. Bloodmoney: Or How We Learned to Get Along After the Bomb is no exception—it’s a fever dream of a story, a brilliant exploration of Cold War fears, though with an oddly optimistic outlook. Sort of. Either way, it was an absolute thrill to read.

First off, I love the title. It’s perfect. As a huge fan of Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, I find this novel to be a bizarre yet fitting science fiction counterpiece to Kubrick’s classic film. The two are completely unique, but they make for fascinating companion pieces. Interestingly, the book was actually written before the movie was released, but when it came time for revisions, editor Donald Wollheim suggested that Dick reference Dr. Strangelove—a change that, in my opinion, really works.

As stated, this book is bizarre, but that’s what makes it so special. It’s an incredibly creative spin on the post-apocalyptic genre, interweaving dark humour into a bleak, war-ravaged world. I can’t say for sure, but it feels like it must have at least partially inspired Fallout.

The characters are some of the weirdest I’ve ever encountered in a PKD novel—and that’s saying something. There’s Hoppy Harrington, the phocomelus (a person with malformed limbs) who possesses extraordinary abilities; Bill Keller, a telepathic homunculus living inside his twin sister; and, of course, Dr. Bloodmoney himself, a physicist whose miscalculations accidentally trigger a nuclear explosion. Wracked with guilt and loathed by the world, he goes into hiding as a sheep farmer named Mr. Tree. I won’t spoil where his story goes from there, but let’s just say it only gets wilder.

And it doesn’t stop there. This book features a rat who plays the nose flute, semi-intelligent dogs that can (mostly) speak English and a host of other eccentric characters. It’s ridiculous, hilarious, and endlessly entertaining.

Of all the PKD books I’ve read, this one might be the most outrageous. It’s larger in scope, less grounded, and packed with interconnected characters. Unlike stories where everything converges at the end, the characters here are already linked—whether directly or indirectly—giving the novel an unusual but effective structure. Even Walt Dangerfield, a man stranded in a satellite orbiting Earth for most of the story, maintains a direct connection with those on the ground.

At its core, Dr. Bloodmoney is a story about resilience—or, at the very least, the persistence of life in the face of catastrophe. Despite multiple world-changing events, the novel highlights humanity’s (and all of Earth’s species) ability to keep going. That’s why, even as it tells the story of civilization’s collapse, it maintains an oddly hopeful tone.

I won’t say this book will be everyone’s cup of tea, but I thought it was fantastic. If you enjoy weird, thought-provoking science fiction, I highly recommend giving it a shot. And if it doesn’t click with you, I get it. But for those it does connect with, it’s an unforgettable, mind-bending experience.