Sam Dunn is Dead was described by its author as a Futurist Novel', yet one will search in vain for any mention of this work in anthologies or histories of Futurism. Sam Dunn's erasure is doubtless because it is so unlike anything else produced by Futurism (so ardent, so masculine, so positive and so absurdly serious). Sam Dunn is, none of these, being, above all else, a great small masterpiece of black humour. Not only is Sam Dunn at once funny, despairing, cerebral and ludicrous, it also traces a history in miniature of the modern spirit.'
