For a book that’s supposedly the ‘definitive’ of mothman lore, there’s not a whole lot of mothman to find here. You’ll be slogging through rambling passages on flying saucer sightings and desperately lapping up the few crumbs of mothman tidbits that Keel seems to toss in only as an afterthought.

Misleading title aside, holy hell does this stink. It’s an absolute loopy rabbit hole of egotism and paranoia by the author. It’s funny, but in a sad sort of way.