
Cosby’s country noir—a term coined by Daniel Woodrell, I think—shifts gears quickly, breaking a sweat to achieve the conventions of well written fiction. But it is a thriller, one laced with social commentary and the politics of race—think Walter Mosely. Cosby is obviously a man with a lot on his mind. The narrative structure is familiar, almost cinematic. A retired get-away driver with father issues has gone straight by opening a mechanic’s shop in the West Virginia town in which he grew up. But financial pressures abound and eventually force him to embrace his former self. Beauregard signs up for one last job. But this isn’t where the true drama of the novel resides—Cosby is interested in deeper problems.
Beauregard constantly asks two questions: what kind of a father is he and what kind of a black man is he? Can he transcend the legacy of his father who was also a get-away driver and remain a father to his sons and daughter? And, will he allow the racist patterns of southern culture to force him into docility, a life on the margins of respect? Cosby’s talent causes both questions to intertwine and reference one another.
The second question is answered by a smorgasbord of surreally violent fist fights, gun play, and races to the death—it’s in these that the novel indulges in slasher-like, revenge fantasy, which is fun, as far as it goes, but can distract from the heart of the drama. Interestingly, it is in this fantastical answer to the race question, which emphasizes Cosby’s answer to the question of fatherhood, which the novel leaves open. As Beauregard wrestles with his father’s legacy and the way in which he sees it guiding his own fatherhood, Beauregard both transcends it and remains imprisoned. He can’t seem to shake the binding legacy of crime and violence his father bequeathed. Considering that the fatherhood question relates to the racism question, the reader is left wondering, is the revenge fantasy against racist bad guys, an outlet, a way to blow off steam? As Beauregard drags rednecks through meth dens to kill them in the cold light of day, deeper problems of heredity lurk in the shadows and are not so easily dealt with. The specter of Beauregard’s past affects his life, just as the specter of slavery does. The last line of the novel does not give us a sense of resolution—challenging the reader to settle the score for themself.
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