If writers are builders of worlds, then Rusty Barnes may just be a master builder. The bleak world he pieces together in the pared down and finely crafted sentences of RECKONING is propped up with the stark realities of rural society in small town America.
The book is hard to classify. Ultimately it is a coming-of-age-story, and a novel of literary realism. But there are also certain elements of the “new noir” in Reckoning—complete with a socially detached protagonist who aims to solve a central mystery in the novel. In the end, however, as the title suggests, the novel is more concerned with a reckoning—a tallying and judgment of deeds committed by the whole community (and there are some doozies)—than it is with the rites of passage that young Richard Logan must pass through.
The word that kept floating to the surface of my subconscious mind as I read RECKONING was tension. This novel is full of it, which gives it the kind of intensity that keeps a reader turning pages. Violence teeming just below the surface is probably the greatest source of tension throughout the novel. The reader feels as if this rural world could explode at any moment, destroying not only Richard and Katie but the whole community. Richard seems keenly aware of this danger, too. Walking along the river, Richard notes:
The tress at the top of the ravine looked like they were about to fall, half their roots hanging out over the bank and a sandy cascade of rocks and dirt underneath and dropping down into the water. His father had told him one day the whole hill would fall into the ravine and the creek would redirect or no longer exist. Richard hoped he wasn’t here to see it.
The sense of tension caused by this looming destruction is only heightened by the long history of the people who lived there. In Richard’s case, “there’d been someone of his blood in this country for two hundred years.”
There are also less prominent sources of tension within the novel. Mr. Barnes uses the third person limited narrative splendidly in Reckoning. In the right hands, it is a perspective that can be used to incredible effect. The third person limited allows the reader to get into the protagonist’s head and “hear” his thoughts, but also to get a sense of his voice. Yet it is a perspective that creates and maintains an unnegotiable distance between the protagonist and the reader because the thoughts and voice are not coming directly from the protagonist. In RECKONING, the author also uses the TPL perspective to enlarge the sense of detachment Richard feels from his surroundings, from his rural life. This sense of detachment is in direct opposition to Richard’s intricate and unfailing knowledge of the paths, trails, and roads that connect the lives of those in the community. Again, more tension.
The plot of RECKONING is somewhat pedestrian; yet this is in keeping with the understated realism of the novel. There are no twists and turns—no big surprises. And there probably shouldn’t be. There are also a few situations that might raise plausibility issues for some readers. For me, it was Richard’s good-intentioned if misled chivalric notion that he had to protect Mrs. Neary, Katie, and most inexplicably, Misty. (Chalk it up to youthful fantasies, I suppose). However, these are small matters within the larger story. Mr. Barnes authorial craftsmanship prevails throughout. And in the end, RECKONING is a compelling story that needs to be read. More impressive, even, given the fact that it is a debut novel. For my part, I will be watching for more great work from Rusty Barnes. And you should be too. (4.5 stars)