At times, Anderson seems to take on more than he can chew, but the narrator's dolefully observant and engagingly...
“We are the trouble we seek,” says Ben Jones, the half-Jewish, half–Native American trucker who narrates this book. That seems especially true of the lost souls traversing the bleak landscape of this harrowing, dryly antic novel.
If it’s possible for a stretch of state highway to be a heartbreak house with asphalt and white lines, then Utah’s Route 117, as depicted in this moody, antic thriller, certainly qualifies. Among the more heartbroken of its transient regulars is Ben, who, as this novel begins, is still working his way through the savagely jolting and deadly events chronicled in Anderson’s debut, The Never-Open Desert Diner (2016). With another harsh winter creeping up on the high desert, Ben is even deeper into his routine of delivering necessities to those living along the highway—but he can’t fill his gas tank without trouble finding him. In this case, it’s a child and an “indeterminate mix of husky and German shepherd” abandoned at a truck stop with a note begging him to take care of what’s eventually identified as a little girl. Ben doesn’t get very far in the swirling snow and high winds with his new passengers before another tractor-trailer truck nearly runs him off the highway. And that’s only the beginning of Ben’s bad week, during which he’s enmeshed in the messy lives of friends like Ginny, the red-and-purple–haired Walmart clerk and college student who implores him to add her infant to his passenger list, and John, the itinerant preacher whose ritual of carrying a large wooden cross along the highway isn’t stopped by inclement weather—until a hit-and-run driver slams him to death’s door. In addition to these and other myriad perils, there’s a trigger-happy convenience-store clerk, a mysterious circus truck, and, lurking in the distance, the surly, enigmatic Walt, who owns and occupies the vacant diner that haunts Ben’s crowded memories.
At times, Anderson seems to take on more than he can chew, but the narrator's dolefully observant and engagingly self-deprecating voice holds together this cluttered tale.Pub Date: Jan. 16, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-101-90654-5
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Crown
Review Posted Online: Oct. 30, 2017
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 15, 2017
A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.
Are we not men? We are—well, ask Bigfoot, as Brooks does in this delightful yarn, following on his bestseller World War Z(2006).
A zombie apocalypse is one thing. A volcanic eruption is quite another, for, as the journalist who does a framing voice-over narration for Brooks’ latest puts it, when Mount Rainier popped its cork, “it was the psychological aspect, the hyperbole-fueled hysteria that had ended up killing the most people.” Maybe, but the sasquatches whom the volcano displaced contributed to the statistics, too, if only out of self-defense. Brooks places the epicenter of the Bigfoot war in a high-tech hideaway populated by the kind of people you might find in a Jurassic Park franchise: the schmo who doesn’t know how to do much of anything but tries anyway, the well-intentioned bleeding heart, the know-it-all intellectual who turns out to know the wrong things, the immigrant with a tough backstory and an instinct for survival. Indeed, the novel does double duty as a survival manual, packed full of good advice—for instance, try not to get wounded, for “injury turns you from a giver to a taker. Taking up our resources, our time to care for you.” Brooks presents a case for making room for Bigfoot in the world while peppering his narrative with timely social criticism about bad behavior on the human side of the conflict: The explosion of Rainier might have been better forecast had the president not slashed the budget of the U.S. Geological Survey, leading to “immediate suspension of the National Volcano Early Warning System,” and there’s always someone around looking to monetize the natural disaster and the sasquatch-y onslaught that follows. Brooks is a pro at building suspense even if it plays out in some rather spectacularly yucky episodes, one involving a short spear that takes its name from “the sucking sound of pulling it out of the dead man’s heart and lungs.” Grossness aside, it puts you right there on the scene.
A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.Pub Date: June 16, 2020
ISBN: 978-1-9848-2678-7
Page Count: 304
Publisher: Del Rey/Ballantine
Review Posted Online: Feb. 9, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2020
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK TO SCREEN
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.
Written with quiet dignity that builds to a climax of tragic force, this book about the dissolution of an African tribe, its traditions, and values, represents a welcome departure from the familiar "Me, white brother" genre.
Written by a Nigerian African trained in missionary schools, this novel tells quietly the story of a brave man, Okonkwo, whose life has absolute validity in terms of his culture, and who exercises his prerogative as a warrior, father, and husband with unflinching single mindedness. But into the complex Nigerian village filters the teachings of strangers, teachings so alien to the tribe, that resistance is impossible. One must distinguish a force to be able to oppose it, and to most, the talk of Christian salvation is no more than the babbling of incoherent children. Still, with his guns and persistence, the white man, amoeba-like, gradually absorbs the native culture and in despair, Okonkwo, unable to withstand the corrosion of what he, alone, understands to be the life force of his people, hangs himself. In the formlessness of the dying culture, it is the missionary who takes note of the event, reminding himself to give Okonkwo's gesture a line or two in his work, The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.
This book sings with the terrible silence of dead civilizations in which once there was valor.Pub Date: Jan. 23, 1958
ISBN: 0385474547
Page Count: 207
Publisher: McDowell, Obolensky
Review Posted Online: April 23, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 1958
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
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