The Bottoms

by Joe R. Lansdale

The Barnes & Noble Review

Much of The Bottoms -- winner of the 2001 Edgar Award for Best Novel -- will probably seem familiar to Lansdale's longtime readers. It is based directly on his Stoker Award-winning novella, "Mad Dog Summer," and it revisits the territory covered in his young adult novel, The Boar , which was likewise set in the hardscrabble world of Depression-era Texas. This time out, though, the scope of the narrative is considerably more expansive, and the story itself is more suspenseful and acutely observed. The result is a novel that functions successfully on a number of as a detailed, authentic portrait of the Great Depression; as a moving but unsentimental coming-of-age story; and as a graphic, nontraditional example of the serial killer novel.

The narrator of The Bottoms is Harry Collins, an old man obsessively reflecting on certain key experiences of his childhood. In 1933, the year that forms the centerpiece of the narrative, Harry is 11 years old and living with his mother, father, and younger sister on a farm outside of Marvel Creek, Texas, near the Sabine River bottoms. Harry's world changes forever when he discovers the corpse of a young black woman tied to a tree in the forest near his home. The woman, who is eventually identified as a local
prostitute, has been murdered, molested, and sexually mutilated. She is also, as Harry will soon discover, the first in a series of similar corpses, all of them the victims of a new, unprecedented sort of a traveling serial killer.

From his privileged position as the son of constable (and farmer and part-time barber) Jacob Collins, Harry watches as the distinctly amateur investigation unfolds. As more bodies -- not all of them "colored" -- surface, the mood of the local residents darkens. Racial tensions -- never far from the surface, even in the best of times -- gradually kindle. When circumstantial evidence implicates an ancient, innocent black man named Mose, the Ku Klux Klan mobilizes, initiating a chilling, graphically described lynching that will occupy a permanent place in Harry Collins's memories. With Mose dead and the threat to local white women presumably put to rest, the residents of Marvel Creek resume their normal lives, only to find that the actual killer remains at large and continues to threaten the safety and
stability of the town.

Lansdale uses this protracted murder investigation to open up a window on an insular, poverty-stricken, racially divided community. With humor, precision, and great narrative economy, he evokes the society of Marvel Creek in all its alternating tawdriness and nobility, offering us a varied, absolutely convincing portrait of a world that has receded into history. At the same time, he offers us a richly detailed re-creation of the vibrant, dangerous physical landscapes that were part of that world and have since been buried under the concrete and cement of the industrialized juggernaut of the late 20th century. In Lansdale's hands, the gritty
realities of Depression-era Texas are as authentic -- and memorable -- as anything in recent American fiction.

The Bottoms reflects a large number of clearly discernible influences. Faulkner is a palpable presence here. So is Flannery O'Connor. So, too, is Harper Lee, whose To Kill a Mockingbird informs this novel on almost every page. Recent influences -- such as Caleb Carr's The Alienist and the Stephen King's of The Green Mile -- seem equally apparent. In the end, though, Lansdale manages to absorb and contain these influences, and to create a novel that is uniquely, unmistakably his own. The Bottoms is the real, unadulterated a moving, involving story told in a distinctive, authentic narrative voice. Don't let it pass you by. (Bill Sheehan)

Bill Sheehan reviews horror, suspense, and science fiction for Cemetery Dance, The New York Review of Science Fiction, and other publications. His book-length critical study of the fiction of

Genres: Mystery, Horror, Fiction, Historical Fiction, Thriller, Crime, Mystery Thriller

328 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2000

About the author

Champion Mojo Storyteller Joe R. Lansdale is the author of over forty novels and numerous short stories. His work has appeared in national anthologies, magazines, and collections, as well as numerous foreign publications. He has written for comics, television, film, newspapers, and Internet sites. His work has been collected in more than two dozen short-story collections, and he has edited or co-edited over a dozen anthologies. He has received the Edgar Award, eight Bram Stoker Awards, the Horror Writers Association Lifetime Achievement Award, the British Fantasy Award, the Grinzani Cavour Prize for Literature, the Herodotus Historical Fiction Award, the Inkpot Award for Contributions to Science Fiction and Fantasy, and many others. His novella Bubba Ho-Tep was adapted to film by Don Coscarelli, starring Bruce Campbell and Ossie Davis. His story "Incident On and Off a Mountain Road" was adapted to film for Showtime's "Masters of Horror," and he adapted his short story "Christmas with the Dead" to film hisownself. The film adaptation of his novel Cold in July was nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, and the Sundance Channel has adapted his Hap & Leonard novels for television.

He is currently co-producing several films, among them The Bottoms, based on his Edgar Award-winning novel, with Bill Paxton and Brad Wyman, and The Drive-In, with Greg Nicotero. He is Writer In Residence at Stephen F. Austin State University, and is the founder of the martial arts system Shen Chuan: Martial Science and its affiliate, Shen Chuan Family System. He is a member of both the United States and International Martial Arts Halls of Fame. He lives in Nacogdoches, Texas with his wife, dog, and two cats.

Reviews

[Lori · Rating 4 out of 5]

A mix of nostalgia for the lost world of his childhood and the toxic racism that was the norm for the time and place. Nobody is going to miss the similarity with To Kill a Mockingbird, but strong enough to stand on its own.
Harry and his family farmed in the Piney Woods of East Texas. The story is in 1933 and 1934.

Daddy had a barbershop as well, and he ran it most days except Sunday and Monday, and was a community constable because nobody else wanted the job. For a time he had been justice of the peace as well, but he finally decided it was more than he wanted, and Jim Jack Formosa took on the justice of the peace position, and Daddy always said Jim Jack was a damn sight better at marrying and declaring people stone cold dead than he ever was.
We lived back in the deep woods near the Sabine River in a three-room white house Daddy had built before we were born. We had a leak in the roof, no electricity, a smoky wood stove, a rickety barn, a sleeping porch with a patched screen and an outhouse prone to snakes.
We used kerosene lamps, hauled water from the well, and did a lot of hunting and fishing to add to the larder. We had about cut out of the woods, and owned another twenty-five acres of hard timber and pine. We farmed the cleared four acres of sandy land with a mule named Sally Redback. We had a car, but Daddy used it mostly for his constable business and Sunday church. The rest of the time we walked, or me and my sister rode Sally Redback.
The woods we owned, and the hundreds of acres of it that surrounded our lad, was full of game, chiggers, and ticks. Back then in East Texas, all the big woods hadn’t been timbered out we didn’t and didn’t have a real advanced Forestry Department telling us how the forest needed help to survive. We just sort of figured since it had survived centuries without us it could probably figure things out on its own. And the woods didn’t all belong to somebody back then, though of course timber was a big industry and was growing even bigger.
But there were still mighty trees and lost places in the woods and along the cool shaded riverbanks that no one had touched but animals.

As Lansdale said of his childhood, “We were not particularly well-off, though we weren't any poorer than most of the people around us."
Harry and his sister Tom are out late avoiding an unpleasant task set by their father. They discover the mutilated body of a woman. Suspecting the local boogeyman legend, the Goat Man as the killer, the children set off to solve the mystery. They have a yappy dog who’s good at treeing squirrels and, a firm belief that the Goat Man will not cross the road that the clergy's use. They call Preacher’s Road because it’s part of the traveling preacher’s circuit. It’s the most incredible adventure of their lives.



The setting is in the Big Thicket the southern area of Texas’ part of Piney Woods. It’s a biome transition zone with one of the most diverse collections of flora and fauna in the world. The Big Thicket National Preserve established in 1974. At 11,000 acres it’s a fraction of the 2-3 million acres of the original forest. It was designated as a Biosphere Reserve by UNESCO in 1981. These are some of the Piney Woods residents.


gray fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus)


ringtail (Bassariscus astutus)


Bigfoot or Sasquatch, okay I have my doubts on this one, but East Texas has had over 200 sightings in the last few years. Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett both had encounter stories. Theodore Roosevelt told a Bigfoot story not a personal encounter. I don't expect to see one, but I don't expect to see a ringtail either. Admittedly, for different reasons. But, there’s at least one warning sign posted so, better forewarned.


As for the feral hogs, there is no season or bag limit, however, a hunting license and landowner permission are required to hunt them unless they're on your property and causing damage to land and livestock. Hogs may be killed by landowners or their agents on their property without a hunting license if the feral hogs are causing damage to land and livestock.

***********************************************
https://www.austinchronicle.com/books...
https://www.texasmonthly.com/the-cult...
https://www.texasmonthly.com/the-cult...
https://www.nps.gov/bith/learn/nature...
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bot...
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piney_W...
https://fishgame.com/2018/05/bigfoot-...
https://tpwd.texas.gov/huntwild/wild/...

[Shelby *trains flying monkeys* · Rating 4 out of 5]

Set in the 1930's this book is told from the viewpoint of an elderly man looking back at a time in his life. Harry grew up in East Texas along the Sabine River area. An area where more is picked up at the local store than groceries.


Harry and his sister Tom find the body of a black woman who had been mutilated and tied up with barbed wire. His father Jacob is the constable/barber/farmer in the town and he takes the body to the black section to have a black doctor have a look to see what happened.
This unleashes racial tension in the area because the black people don't want trouble stirred up and some of the white people don't care if a black woman is dead. Then more bodies start turning up.
Lansdale brings this to life much better than my piddly review but I wanted to just get the basics across.

Harry was that curious boy who believed and had seen the legendary "Goat Man" following he and his sister in those woods.


His dad Jacob reminded me of Atticus Finch in "To Kill a Mockingbird" He stood up for what he thought was right no matter what. There is a lynching scene in the book that I had nightmares about after reading this last night. (trigger warning for some of you)
Then there is Grandma: I want to be her when I grow up.
"I love and miss Grandpa, but I'm glad he's dead."
"Don't say that!" Mama said.
"Was he in a lot of pain?" Daddy asked.
"No. No. Thank goodness for that. But he took to singin' gospel songs. He'd just burst out in one from time to time, and he couldn't carry a tune in a syrup bucket with a lid on it. It was miserable. And you couldn't shut him up. I figured it was time for him to go just so I wouldn't have to listen to that. I ever start talkin' to myself, or heaven forbid sing a goddamn gospel song-"

This book as a mystery novel would have scored a 2 star from me, but it's more than that because if you spin me a tale involving a coming of age story and throw in some folk lore and you have me entranced. This is what Joe Lansdale does with this book.
Just a short time before I had been a happy kid with no worries. I didn't even know it was the Depression, let alone there were murderers outside the magazines I read down at the barbershop, and none of the magazines I read had to do with this kind of thing.

[Arah-Lynda · Rating 5 out of 5]

Once again I find myself sitting here scratching my head wondering how in the world can this be the first time I have read Joe R. Lansdale.  In truth I think I may have come across a short story or two in one anthology or another, but this is my first novel.  It will not be my last.

The story unfolds on a farm, set deep in the woods by the Sabine River in East Texas during the depression era of the 1930’s.   Our narrator is Harry Collins, an eleven year old boy who lives on the farm with his parents, younger sister Tom ( short for Thomasina) and his trusty dog Toby.  They also have a mule, Sally Redback for ploughing and such.   Harry’s father farms his land, owns a barber shop where he cuts hair and is the local constable.  Wearing so many hats was not uncommon in those days and went a long way in helping to make ends meet.   One day while out in the woods with his younger sister, Harry and Tom stumble upon the corpse of a naked, coloured woman.  She had been badly cut upon and was all bloated and tied up in barbed wire.

While Harry and his sister are making their way back home in the dark, after having made their grisly discovery, they have the chilling sense that they are  being watched and followed.  Lansdale describes this and the Bottom land of the Sabine River country so effectively it is as though you are  actually there, on high alert with these kids as they swallow their fear and navigate through brambles and bushes enroute to the swinging bridge that will take them across the Sabine River and to a “safe” route home.

The bridge was some cables strung across the Sabine from high spots on the banks.  Some long board slats were fastened to the cables by rusty metal clamps and rotting ropes.  I didn’t know who built it or how old it was.  Maybe it had been a pretty good bridge once.  Now a lot of slats were missing and others were rotten and cracked and the cables were fastened to the high banks on either side by rusty metal bars buried deep in the ground.   In places, where the water had washed the bank, you could see part of the bars showing through the dirt.  Enough time and water, the whole bridge would fall into the river.
When the wind blew, the bridge swung.  The boards creaked and ached as if in pain.  Little bits of rotten wood came loose and fell into the river below.  Down there was a deep spot and the water ran fast, crashed up against some rocks, fell over a little falls, and into the wide, deep, churning water. .

Lansdale is a gifted storyteller.  The Bottoms reads as though Harry were right there in the room with you recounting those days.  More bodies of unfortunate women will be discovered in the days and weeks to come and they will not all be women of colour.  Harry’s Dad, Jacob, being the local constable takes steps to learn more about this first woman.  He cannot count on the white doctor in town to give him an unbiased appraisal of how she met her death or for that matter even care much about such things.  Frustrated Jacob seeks the counsel of a coloured doctor that lives and practices within a settlement of mostly coloured folk not far from his own community.  This does not set well with the white people of his community or the local members of the Klan.  


Primarily The Bottoms is considered a mystery but where it really shines is as a coming of age story.  Given the racial divide and the role Harry’s father played I was reminded often of Harper Lee’s classic as well as McCammon’s Boy's Life.  

As you approach the end of this book Lansdale pumps up the volume and infuses every word with nail biting tension.  I could not take it in fast enough, my eyes,  independent of will, were racing ahead chasing down each sentence, leaving no time to digest, imploring my fingers to come on already, turn the page and let them loose.  At some point I suddenly gasped for air, unaware that the whole time, I had been holding my breath. Whew! And Woot!.  

Highly recommended.  You really will not want to miss this one.

[Kelly (and the Book Boar) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Find all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/

“Only the past seems to matter now; only it seems to be alive; only it can support my soul.”

I finally got around to reading this over the weekend and have been debating ever since about how to write a review. This is one of those books that if too much is given away, then everything might as well be given away. It also has a blurb that is about 112 pages long so go read that if you want way too much information. As for me? I’m going to let the book do most of the talking.

This is the story of Harry Collins – a man who is near the end of his life and is recalling a monumental time when he was just a boy . . .

“I’ve got the memories of then, nearly seventy years ago, and they are as fresh as the moment. It all happened, as I recall, in the years nineteen thirty-three and thirty-four.”

This was a time when Harry and his family lived in East Texas, specifically near the Sabine River bottoms . . .

“The bottoms themselves were beautiful. The trees lush, the leaves heavy with rain, the blackberry vines twisting and tangling, sheltering rabbits and snakes. Even the poison ivy winding around the oak trees seemed beautiful and green and almost something you wanted to touch. But like the poison ivy, looks could be deceptive. Under all the beauty, the bottoms held dark things.”

The dark thing Harry and his sister Tom(asina) had always been afraid of was someone known as the “Goat Man,” but when Harry was 11 years old he discovered the true evils of the world in the form of murdered women and the reality of what kind of person would automatically be suspected of such heinous crimes . . .

“My people, they like chaff, boy. They blow away in the breeze and ain’t no one cares.”

The book also delves into the battle of conscience Harry’s father, the constable, had to face throughout the process . . .

“It’s like I’ve opened this box and I don’t know how to close it.”

For months now friends have been trying to get me to read Lansdale. I finally caved and my first selection was a classic B-Horror Movie type of story with The Drive In. I was convinced to read this one next when a certain monkey-wielding book fairy forced it down my throat. I can’t express how happy I am that she did so. I’ve been terrified to read Harper Lee’s “new” release and decided to stand firm and maintain my memory of the original which has kept its place as one of my favorites of all time. Color me shocked when I discovered that the author who is famous for the antics of Hap and Leonard would also be the person to write a coming of age story that was so reminiscent of To Kill A Mockingbird. If you were a fan of Scout and Jem or found Atticus to be as close to a superhero as you would probably ever meet in real life, I can’t recommend The Bottoms enough. This was a real thinker about how little some things have changed, it's written so well you'll think you are in Texas during the Great Depression and it is guaranteed to make you feel allllllll of the feels . . . .



Don’t trust me? Check out my friend Paul’s review instead ‘cause he wrote a good’un.

[s.penkevich [hiatus-will return-miss you all] · Rating 2 out of 5]

‘“Only our memories allow that some people ever existed. That they mattered, or mattered too much.’

Imagine, if you will, a “great American classic”--like the Ivory Tower flying starched banners of canonization Classic-with-a-capital-C--adapted as a muder mystery novel. We’ve seen this before in Law and Order and such, and like, cool, the nerds get some fun. Okay, now imagine it being bad. The Bottoms by Joe Lansdale sounded like something that would be different, fun, and good discussion for a book club I’ve joined--Edgar Award winner, nominated for many others, compared to Harper Lee and William Faulkner--but the most I can say is that it led to a lot of discussion and jovial merrimaking. Not in praise though, oh no. The Bottoms is fun, and once you pick it up you’ll breeze through it because it holds your attention and pulls you forward. Which is great, and I’m sure there is an audience for it that will really enjoy it for that. They aren’t wrong and I could see this being good for someone, which is saving us a star here. I seem to be an outlier on here about this, so take that as you will and definitely read other reviews to decide for yourself if this is a book for you. Unfortunately, The Bottoms is an unworthy retelling of To Kill a Mockingbird that, beyond having some clunky writing, has a lot of really problematic issues going on despite being written as if it were progressive and, perhaps, wasn’t a story that needed to be told the way it was.

‘For when you can’t live life, you’re just burning life, sucking air and making turds.’

Why did I just choose that quote? I don’t know. It’s sort of ableist in its actual context but surely I don’t mean it in a metaphorical, review context. Okay, now I’m starting to feel bad because, as I mentioned, I think this could be really cool to those who would enjoy it. In the recent Helen Oyeyemi novel, Peaces, she offers a brilliant metaphor about types of readers through a description of the 4 types of audience members at a marionette show: one watches the puppets; one looks for the puppeteer; one is crowd watching others reactions; and the other watches the strings. Admittedly, I am a string watcher and this novel is written for puppet--the characters and plot--watchers. Which is fine, and it would be elitist to jump on this book for the writing being just okay and the metaphors and images and themes being far, far too on the nose. For example, the red herring character of the novel is quite actually named Red, which I can’t, I just can’t give a pass to because I already used that as a child on A Pup Named Scooby Doo. But criticizing the novel on those points, to be fair, seems like missing the point and the purpose. We wouldn’t critique an episode of Bill Nye the same as a doctoral thesis on astronomy the same; the purpose and functions are not the same. But am I still going to dislike this novel otherwise? You betcha.

Here we go, friends (whats up, Annaka!? Hope desk is easy today). The Bottoms takes place in Texas and the initially terrifying character of The Goatman is inspired by actual Texas urban legend. Which rules, and the story of a Goatman taking hung bodies into the forest to do whatever they will with them is a good and creepy and exponentially so as Lansdale takes the larger Alton Bridge and makes it a rickety Indiana Jones rope bridge over a river in the middle of a terrifying marsh. Honestly, this had my attention and was really gripping during the first Goatman encounter. Then Goatman starts leaving trinkets and you think...hmmmm this is familiar? but by the time Goatman goes full finale-scene-Boo-Radley on the killer trying to harm the children the charm of the blatant Harper Lee mimicry has worn off and it’s kind of an eye roll.

The thing is, I usually really like retellings. Dark fairy tale retellings? Sign me up and put that in my eyes all day. But the thing about retellings is I prefer it when there is a purpose beyond just riding the vibes of someone else’s high notes to carry your own work. Which is what is happening here and Truman Capote hasn’t low key tried to claim he ghost wrote it yet so I guess gather that up in your mind. What purpose does a retelling-as-serial-killer-mystery set in Texas serve? He showed us that people in 1933 Texas were racist and crimes got glossed over if you were white and of a decent social standing, especially if it was killing Black sex workers. Wow, really Bob Woodward blowing the lid off that one, eh Joe?

The problem, however, with nearly plagiarizing TKaM, is that it carries some of the white saviorism problems. The book is told from the point of view of a young child and his sister--Joe decenters sister Scout (Tom, a cliche tomboy character, here) for the perspective of brother Jem (Harry Collins) so already recentering maleness which is a disappointment to say the least--as they sneak along to follow their father as he is the only one who will stand up for the Black community and investigate murders of women. The dad is kind of cool, admittedly, being the local constable and also owning a barber shop who will openly call his peers out for racism and makes sure to bring his police work needs to the Black doctor out of town because he can trust him. It would have been cool if Lansdale would have mentioned something like he was also ensuring the Black doctor got paid since he was clearly at an economic disadvantage to the white doctor, but I’m going to consider that was implied. Lansdale does an excellent job of framing the two doctors through the initial depictions of them, though. Dr. Tinn is a black doctor first met as he is dwarfed beside his collection of medical, psychology and philosophy books. It really embodies the idea that a Black doctor will have to work significantly harder to still not be as respected for their knowledge as a white doctor. The white doctor in question, Dr. Stephenson, is first described as already drunk sipping on some whiskey. It works and is a really well-done visual juxtaposition.

But yes, its a bit white savoirish as I’m sure you’ve read the essays examining Atticus Finch in that way, especially with the Dad often telling Black people what it is they need and asserting himself as their only defense because he says they won’t stand up for themselves. Okay, sure, they have good reason to be afraid and he is doing the right thing, but as a piece of art being put out into the world we have to ask, who does it serve? If you guessed white people you’d likely be correct. And yes, it’s good to have people see they are doing the right thing to be an ally. Sneaking this sort of message into a book that likely would be picked up by people who weren’t engaging in this discourse in 2000 when it was written is also cool. But who is it serving? White readers, and one that lets you give yourself a pat on the back without pushing you further into wrestling with antiracsim and still asserting the white males as the heroes of a story where the victims are Black as a sort of racism porn. Yes, I’m reading this in 2021 and I realize that when I was 14 in 2000 we hadn’t reached that as a general public conversation, but there were people talking about that even before then and I feel its a fair point to consider in critiquing the novel.

If you want to consider this novel a book that was a building block towards progress and how we are looking further into this issues now, sure, I’ll concede that to a good argument. And I recognize the conversation might not have sunk in back then but there is an egregious amount of using a racial slur in this book. It’s used to place the novel in it’s period as language characters would use, but honestly it feels like a white author justifying it to themselves and then just celebrating it. Also, period piece isn’t really one of the hashtags I’d slap on this book anyways. If this were pitched currently, it wouldn’t fly for sure but also I think finding a way around using it would have been considered. It’s like how you know you don’t sing the word even if it’s a favorite song, the author is white, he just shouldn’t use it. There is also an attempt at diction--one of the reasons the back blurb compares it to Faulkner as well as the Reed character’s fate being lifted straight out of The Sound and the Fury--that feels a bit forced and...well….it should definitely raise an eyebrow the way it is used with the Black characters. Curiously it is mostly used to denote a Black character. Not great.

I think this gets into the questions about novel writing that has begun to take shape. Why do I think this story should be told? How and for whom is it told? And am I the person who should tell this story? Why my voice? Which, I think, are valid points to consider when approaching an idea, and there is a lot of discussion on this. I’m not meaning self-censoring here, but there are a few moments we can likely look at and think, this is one that shouldn’t have passed these questions. Which is fine, find the story in you that really should be told I guess and use your voice to elevate those telling their stories as well. Lansdale points direct connections to other authors that are telling similar stories that deal with racism, which is great, but also only directing towards white authors. At the time it was written there are many Black authors the novel could have alluded to as well, but didn’t. I don’t mean to say this was intentional, but it was a blindspot that could have made the book better.

There sure is a lot of sexualizing the women in the book too. The mom exists almost solely to be part of a sexual rivalry over her with the rival Sheriff, red herring Red, where it’s fairly understood that Red’s lack of sexual ownership over her is seen as a punch to his toxic masculinity. Every woman in the novel exists to be sexualized. Even the Grandma and Tom are sexualized with the sexual assault of a child being oddly glossed over like it wasn’t a huge deal. Not great.

I feel bad, and honestly this could be a fun read. For the target audience, it’s probably a joy and I do recognize that I am not the target audience. Read other reviews, don’t take my word on it. Art is subjective and I am in no way an authority on anything and a hack reviewer to boot. So take this all with a grain of salt. I could harp on mechanics, like the father being described as someone who would never wear overalls despite the father being described as wearing overalls in a scene where that inclusion wasn’t meant as a change or reveal (thanks Greg to pointing that out), but what I’m more critical of is that it didn’t even achieve it’s own thematic intentions. It was a scarry, murder novel that wasn’t scarry (it unveils its monster WAY too soon as something not to be feared) and the mystery was sort of muddled. I did enjoy all the various side paths it teased and it offers a lot of potential killers with a pretty good plot on who it was, but it also introduces a lot of plot lines that sort of bloat the novel and leave a sense of rot from not being followed instead of tidily put away. The whole epilogue attempts to discard too much and does so in such a bland and pessimistic way--the Red stuff is cool and I like how that is left a mystery (though this is a perfect time to mention that plotline about white supremacists discovering they have Black ancestry is done better in a novella by a Black author found in the 2020 book The Office of Historical Corrections)--that the novel ends with a bad taste in your mouth. The narrator sets this up as a telling of his childhood where he claims to only remember the good moments, but the novel seems to only focus on the bad. If these are the good moments, count me out.

2/5

[Algernon · Rating 4 out of 5]

[9/10]

We have no Halloween traditions in Eastern Europe, but since I read so many books published in the US I got into the habit of picking up in October some titles that don't usually migrate to the top of my reading stack. I don't mind horror: it's not my favorite genre, but I have found some real gems in the past. 2014 is the year I tried my very first Joe R Lansdale story, and I have chosen The Bottoms both because I noticed it received some literary prizes and because it is a standalone, not part of a series. My reaction is quite enthusiastic, mostly about Lansdale storytelling talent, equal in my opinion to the likes of Stephen King and Robert McCammon. Speaking of McCammon, The Bottoms has as the main narrator Harry Crane, a young boy who needs to come to terms with death and with racial prejudices, reminding me of Boy's Life. Harry has a little sister, a tomboy named Tom, and she is not the only aspect of the story that pointed me in the direction of the classic To Kill A Mockinbird. There's also the strong father figure, the mysterious neighbour called here the Goat Man, again the racial tensions and the lessons that will last for a lifetime. Lansdale though cannot be accused of imitating these other writers : his story is darker, scarier, and the real monsters are sadly not some supernatural creatures from the swamp, but the people living next door.

The setting is as much a part of the story as the humans. East Texas during the times of the Great Depression was a backward place, sparsely populated and almost isolated from the rest of the country, a swampy place of poor soil and tangled forests where the easiest transport was by boat on the river:

We lived back in the deep woods near the Sabine River in a three-room white house Daddy had built before we were born. We had a leak in the roof, no electricity, a smoky wood stove, a rickety barn, a sleeping porch with a patched screen, and an outhouse prone to snakes.

For Harry Crane and his sister the Bottoms are a place of constant adventure, a hunting ground for squirrels and rabbits, a fertile source of scary stories passed down from generation to generation. There are rumours of a Goat Man who hides in the forest and only comes out at night to steal unwary children, and of a travelling bluesman who made a pact with the Devil in order to be able to charm the audience with the tunes of his guitar.

The bottoms themselves were beautiful. The trees lush, the leaves heavy with rain, the blackberry vines twisting and tangling, sheltering rabbits and snakes. Even the poison ivy winding around the oak trees seemed beautiful and green and almost something you wanted to touch.
But like poison ivy, looks could be deceptive. Under all that beauty, the bottoms held dark things ...

Once, when the two siblings are caught up late in the forest, they came upon the dead body of a woman, horribly mutilated and tied to a tree on the banks of the river. Childhood and innocence are about to be terminated for Harry as his father, the local constable, is unable to make any progress in the investigation. On the contrary, it soon becomes apparent that this was not an isolated case, but the work of a serial killer. The fact that the victims are black prostitutes only serves to underline the deep social division between the white and the black communities, the power that the "Kluxers" still had in that period to intimidate, to persecute and ultimately to kill while good people were afraid to speak up. As Miss Maggie, an old coloured friend of Harry, explains:

It ain't gonna be. You can rest on that. My people, they like chaff, boy. They blow away in the breeze and ain't no one cares. Whoever done this have to kill a white person if he gonna get the big law on him.

Lansdale merit in tackling segregation and hate is in how strongly he makes the issue personal, not some political or philosophical debate, but a choice you have to make at one point or another in life and then to practice what you preach, even if it gets you isolated and attacked by the bigots and the bullies. Harry's education is written not in schoolbooks (the school is actually closed for lack of teachers), but in the blood of the innocent victims of prejudice and in the even more painful lesson that adults are not infallible, when the father he worships has his own moment of despair and resemnation.

Just a short time before I had been a happy kid with no worries. I didn't even know it was the Depression, let alone there were murderers outside of the magazines I read down at the barbershop, and none of the magazines I read had to do with killers who did this kind of thing. And Daddy, though a good man, sincere and true, if briefly distracted, was no Doc Savage.

In the same vein, maybe I'm repeating myself, but these things need to be said out loud, today as much as in the 1930's:

It's easy to hate, Harry. It's easy to say this and that happens because the colored do or don't do one thing or another, but life isn't that easy, son. Constablin', I've seen some of the worst human beings there is, both white and colored. Color don't have a thing to do with meanness. Or goodness. You remember that.

The plot is not a simple murder investigation or a story of racial hatred. If it were, I don't think it would stay long in my memory. What I really got from the book was a sense of the place and of the people living there, of the importance of family and traditions, and of the importance of the strong moral backbone, of the integrity and honesty that will see you through even when you live at the bottom of the social ladder. The adults around Harry are imperfect, even the closest to him have their secrets and their weaknesses and their moments of doubt. There's also a way out: Harry loves to read. It's mostly pulp magazines and cheap comics in the beginning, but the boy will soon discover the pleasures a lending library can bring even into the most backward of places.

Regarding the prose of Lansdale, all I can say is that it has a natural flow, a rhythm borrowed from the oral traditions. For local colour it uses a lot of colourful similes that show a streak of healthy peasant humour :

My Daddy used to say there were skeeters over there big enough to carry off a man and eat him and wear his shoes.

another example, about some rednecks bullies:

They had, as Daddy said, the manners of a billy goat. I once heard him say to Cecil, when he thought I was out of earshot, that if you took the Nation family's brains and waded them up together and stuck them up a gnat's butt and shook the gnat, it'd sound like a ball bearing in a boxcar.

Lansdale can also write whimsical and poetic passages, when the story requests it, as when the elderly Harry Crane contemplates the changes brought about by several decades of progress to his bottom lands:

But the beautiful woods are all gone now, cut down, cemented over with car lots and filling stations, homes and satellite dishes. The river is there, but the swamps it made have been drained. Alligators have gone away or been killed off. The birds are not as plentiful, and there is something sad about seeing them glide over concrete surfaces, casting their tiny shadows.

All in all, an excellent choice for Halloween and for fans of crime or Southern literature. I will probably read next the Hap and Leonard books by Joe Lansdale, as I am pretty sure that he can continue to deliver the goods.

[Sadie Hartmann · Rating 5 out of 5]

The works of Joe R. Lansdale have been recommended to me so much in the last 3-4 years. I have a strong affinity for coming-of-age tales so I was told very convincingly by several people that THE BOTTOMS was a must read. (Thanks to Steve and Chad!)
I buddy read this with my friend Tracy and I'm not exaggerating when I say we devoured this book. I started Thursday night, Tracy on Friday afternoon and here we are on Sunday morning fangirling over Lansdale.
I am in utter and complete awe of his storytelling ability. THE BOTTOMS takes place in East Texas, just after the devastating effect of the Depression in the 1930s. This was a difficult time for all Americans but nobody felt the effects harder than African Americans-especially in the deep South. KKK led lynchings and beatings were rampant.
Our story zeros in on a family living by a river-an area known as THE BOTTOMS. The father, Jacob (I love this man) is the local constable. He's married to a strong, beautiful woman and they have two children, Harry who is like 12 or 13 and Tom (Thomasina) who is just a bit younger. The narrator is Harry and he's telling a tale in flashback from a nursing home. I love Harry so much I could cry right now trying to explain how special he is. Lansdale wrote the most endearing and beautiful relationship between a father and son. It was so refreshing. I have read a lot of books lately where the father figure is an old, abusive, hypocritical drunk so it was such a sweet reading experience to hear Harry talk about his dad like the hero he was. In a time when segregation and racial prejudice is at an apex, Jacob-Henry's father-teaches his family to treat people fairly and he doesn't do this in a self-righteous preachy way, but he leads by example. This really reminded me of what I loved about TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. So if you enjoyed that book, you'd love this one (trust me).
Lansdale paints small-town life with exquisite and intimate details. The townies are bright and colorful. I especially loved Miss Maggie and the way she tells stories to young Harry. But this isn't a "feel-good story" of good triumphing over evil all the time--this town is saturated in hate for African Americans and to add fuel to the flames, there's someone out there murdering prostitutes. Our sweet kiddos, Tom and Harry stumble upon one of the first bodies and so dad, Jacob takes up an investigation. To tell you anymore would risk accidentally exposing some exciting discoveries so the rest of this review is just me urging everyone to read this book. Seriously. It's everything you would ever want. Page-turning action, rich storytelling, dimensional characters you immediately fall in love with (Mose! Miss Maggie! Tom! Jacob! The dog, Toby! Grandma!) and a murder mystery that gets more and more intense as the story goes on.
This book makes you wince, laugh, cry, scream out in agony, surprise, anger, shock, and then reading the last bit, you cling to every word--sad that it's over. I'm so sad it's over!! I will be reading this again and it will forever make every list I make of favorite coming of age stories, best-of lists and all-time favorites. I'm a sold-out Lansdale fan now. GIVE ME MORE!

[Paul Nelson · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Bottoms by Joe R. Lansdale The Bottoms by Joe Lansdale is a rousing atmospheric murder mystery with an abundance and it has to said, more than its fair share of tension and thought provoking issue. The Bottoms won the Edgar award in 2000 and is definitely a book that will stay resolutely in your thoughts long after you've finished.
 
The story is an unforgiving coming of age tale for eleven year old Harry Crane set in the 1930's who along with his younger sister discover the tortured body of a dead woman in the Bottoms of small East Texas town, Marvel Creek.
 
'In that moment, something else changed for me. I realized that a person could truly die. Daddy and Mama could die. I could die. We would all someday die. Something went hollow inside me, shifted, found a place to lie down and be still, if not entirely in comfort.'
 
Harry's father is the town constable and he begins an investigation that delves deeply into the racial divide prevalent in the era, nearly breaking him in the process. Caught smack bang in the middle are the two children who insert themselves into the forefront of proceedings as the murders increase and the town seek justice.
 
The characters virtually leap from the page and sit snugly on your shoulder whispering their intent, leaving an impression of the story permanently etched in your mind. Eliciting disbelief at attitudes, questioning morality and leaving you firmly rooting for a family that face exorbitant trials and tribulations.
 
There's even some of the Lansdale humour littered sparingly within, some anxious store-bought teeth.
 
'Once in a while be wore store-bought teeth, but they clicked and clacked and slid around when he talked, as if they might have some place to go and were anxious to get there.'
 
The Bottoms is a delightful story that brings back fond memories of classic stories such as To Kill a Mocking and McCammons Boy's Life while still remaining unique and quite gripping in its own way. The characterization and the feelings inspired by this story are simply breathtaking at times, perfectly highlighting how times have changed. I did guess the killers identity from the various suspects tossed into the mix but it didn't detract from a wonderful story that deserves to be appreciated by all.

[Lawyer · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Bottoms: Joe R. Lansdale's Edgar Award Winning Mystery

The Bottoms by Joe R. Lansdale was chosen as a group read for February, 2016, by members of On the Southern Literary Trail. Special thanks to Jane for nominating this novel.


Joe R. Lansdale

Just a few weeks ago my neighbor handed me a copy of By Bizarre Hands, the first anthology of short stories by Joe R. Lansdale. My neighbor is a professor of literature. I take his recommendations seriously. It was my first exposure to Landsdale. I was impressed.

I finished the anthology a few days before travelling to Texas. I usually travel with a book set in my destination. I chose The Bottoms to take along.

While some may question my classifying this novel as a work of Southern Literature, Texas is a mighty big State. It consists of distinct geographic areas, populated by very diverse people. Cross into Texas from Louisiana and you find yourself in East Texas, marked by huge tracts of pines, riversswamps, and the bottoms of the Sabine River.

The area is decidedly "Southern" as opposed to Cowboy country. It is the land of "The Big Thicket" that covers miles of territory which was known as a place in earlier days into which one could go and rarely be found if that was the traveler's intention.


The Big Thicket

Landale's novel is narrated by Harry Collins, now in his nineties, the resident of a nursing home. Recognizing his mortality, he tells the tale of life with his family in the Great Depression of the 1930s.

Thirteen year old Harry was the son of a loving mother and father, and doted on baby sister, Tom, short for Thomasina. Yes, Tom is a tomboy. Harry and his family are better off than most. His father is a farmer, a barber, and most important, the town constable. Both his parents have a strong moral code stressing the value of human life no matter the color of another person's skin.

Should the reader think this is sounding familiar, it should. This is Lansdale's move of To Kill a Mockingbird from Alabama to Texas. As Jem and Scout were intent on bringing Boo Radley out of hiding, so Harry and Tom are fascinated with an elusive figure known as "The Goat Man."

"The Goatman" is a well known Texas folklore legend. Outside of Denton, Texas, stands the old Alton Bridge, built in 1884. A black goat farmer Oscar Washburn lived nearby. In 1938, for reasons unknown, he was dragged from his family home, and lynched by hanging from the Altmon bridge. When the Klan came back to check on the their handiwork, Washburn's body was gone. Through decades, the Goatman has been sighted on the Alton bridge, sometimes as a figure leading herds of goats, sometimes carrying the heads of two goats, and sometimes as a figure half man and half goat.


The Goatman's Bridge

Known also as a writer of horror, it comes as no surprise that the Goatman appears as a central figure of interest courtesy of Joe Lansdale. The only change being that the bridge has been transformed into a deteriorating swinging bridge. Come on, it's near Halloween. Just go with it.


The Goatman of Texas Lore

Harry and Tom are accompanied on their adventures by an unforgettable dog named Toby. Although severely injured, Toby is indestructible and a loyal companion to his kids.

While out squirrel hunting, Harry and Tom find the body of a black woman, mutilated, and bound in barbed wire. Their discovery becomes the first of a series of murders. Constable Collins doggedly pursues the killer, although the white population shows no concern. Of what value is a dead black woman who was nothing more than a prostitute?

Racism rears its ugly head. Following in the footsteps of Atticus Finch, Collins is determined to solve the murders. His white neighbors dub him a "nigger lover."

Things rapidly turn uglier when a white woman becomes a victim of the mysterious killer. The Klan comes out and lynches an innocent black man. Jacob Collins crawls into a bottle when he is unable to prevent the Klan from carrying out hanging Oscar, the man in the wrong place at the wrong time. Poor Mose has lived alone since the disappearance of his wife and brain addled son years ago.

The town settles down until another white woman is found dead. This victim is no prostitute, but a respected member of the community, sought after by many suitors. Think "Miss Maudie."

Jacob Collins wreaks vengeance on the ring leaders of Mose's killers. He climbs out of the bottle to bring the real killer to light. Harry and Tom begin their longest journey one night, just as Jem and Scout did. Tom is the killer's intended victim. And the Goat Man comes out just as Boo Radley did.

The Bottoms is a satisfying read. However, I would have found it more satisfying had it ended with Jacob sitting up in Tom's room, knowing he would still be there the next morning.

There are flaws in this book. There are numerous sub-plots setting up other possible suspects that Lansdale's solution is to wrap them up in an extended epilogue by Harry which borders on the tedious. I found Harry's lengthy conclusion less than satisfying. I leave it to the reader to make their own determination.

Perhaps this is Joe Lansdale's homage to that masterpiece of Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird. I'll give him the benefit of a doubt. This novel is an expansion of his young adult novella,Mad Dog Summer found in Mad Dog Summer: And Other Stories. Lansdale is currently producing a film of The Bottoms, starring Bill Paxton.

Joe R. Lansdale is a prolific writer. The Bottoms captured the 2001 Edgar Award for best mystery. He has won the British Fantasy Award, the American Horror Award and has scooped up nine Bram Stoker Awards, and was voted a World Horror Grand Master. He is the author of the popular Hap and Leonard Series. His latest novel is The Thicket. Lansdale, born in Gladewater, Texas, now lives in Nacogdoches, Texas, where he is the writer in residence at Stephen F. Austin.

[Jessaka · Rating 5 out of 5]

10 stars. He is good. He is very, very good. He grabs your attention at the very beginning and doesn't let you go until the end.

East Texas in the early 1,930s. Black prostitutes are being murdered in the woods. Mutilated. The 1st 1 was tied up to a tree with bobwhire. Towns people don't care.... Racism.
Harry, age 11, is sent into the woods to shoot his dog because his dog is injured. He finds the 1st body. The dog survives.

Harry and his little sister tom go into the woods often. They just don't listen to reason. They see the goat man that others have seen. The goatman follows them, Harry can just feel his presence. Then when he gets home he sees the goatman his horns, his big white eyes, and his white teeth. And when he is home, harry looks out the window and sees the goatman, watching.

[Tom Mathews · Rating 5 out of 5]

Every time I finish a Joe R. Lansdale book I swear that I need to read more of his books. Often life gets in the way, though, and a good deal of time goes by before I pick up another. Having just finished The Bottoms, I am really, really, really determined to make Joe Lansdale one of my best friends. This standalone novel, written in the guise of an old man’s reminiscence, is an exceptional combination of murder mystery and coming-of-age tale set in East Texas during the Great Depression.
Harry Collins, 14, lives with his family along the banks of the Sabine River. His father, Jacob, has donned many hats (farmer, barber, town constable) in his struggle to stay afloat during the lean years of the Depression. One day while hunting with his sister, Tom (okay, Thomasina) they find the mutilated body of a black woman tied to a tree near the river. Soon more bodies turn up and the hunt is on for a killer. While Jacob is searching for a human killer, Harry and Tom are convinced that they have already seen the killer, the legendary Goat Man, rumored to stalk the river bottoms in search of prey. Things get complicated quickly when one of the victims turns out to be white and the local Klan gets involved.

Although this is an original tale in its own right it also has many undeniable similarities to To Kill a Mockingbird which I found inexplicably entertaining. Ordinarily I would find copycatting Harper Lee presumptuous in the extreme and earn the author a good horsewhipping. Lansdale, however, gets a pass from me because his remarkable character building skills and storytelling ability kept me fully engaged all the way through to its bittersweet ending.

On the downside, the whodunit aspects of the story aren’t as challenging as they could be so readers who consider the author’s skill at concealing the killer’s identity important, you may not be too impressed. If you are like me, however, and are just along for the ride, you will likely find it enjoyable.

4.5 stars (rounded up because, well damn it, because I can and I want to!)

FYI: On a 5-point scale I assign stars based on my assessment of what the book needs in the way of improvements:
*5 Stars – Nothing at all. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
*4 Stars – It could stand for a few tweaks here and there but it’s pretty good as it is.
*3 Stars – A solid C grade. Some serious rewriting would be needed in order for this book to be considered great or memorable.
*2 Stars – This book needs a lot of work. A good start would be to change the plot, the character development, the writing style and the ending.
*1 Star - The only thing that would improve this book is a good bonfire.

[Oliver Clarke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really spectacularly good

[NILTON TEIXEIRA · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, this was a very engaging read.
I have never heard of this author.
This book was recommended by a member of Goodreads (thanks David Putnam!).
It won the 2001 Edgar best mystery and a couple of others literary prizes.
Although I did not find the story very original (I have read others or watched a TV movie with same type of characters, and this book also reminded me of “How To Kill A Mockingbird”), I thought that the book was very well written (even if a bit repetitive) and I was captivated from the beginning.
The setting is early 30’s, East Texas.
The racism level is extremely toxic and may displease some readers.
There are some gory details of violence and some scenes of violence can be hard to digest.
But the structure and story development are terrific.
I did not have a moment of boredom.
I loved the main characters and how the family bonded together.
Besides the racist content, there are some moments of tenderness and love.
Now, the reason I did not rate it 5 stars: although I was not surprised finding out the name of the serial killer, the second last chapter was too long and absurd (like a B movie) and the last chapter felt rushed, as if the author suddenly got tired of everything.
With all that said, I’m looking forward to reading some of his other works, especially his collection of short stories.

There is an adaptation to the screen currently in development.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3521140/

[Melki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just a short time before I had been a happy kid with no worries. I didn't even know it was the Depression, let alone there were murderers outside of the magazines I read down at the barbershop . . .

Lansdale crafts an enticing tale about two kids coming of age in 1930's East Texas. In addition to the usual angsty teen and tween crises like burgeoning sexuality and a yearning for independence, Harry and his little sister Tom must deal with racial tensions, the Klan, and a freakin' serial killer. (And, the kids of today think they have it bad if the internet goes down . . . )

It's a pretty decent page-turner that's considered one of Lansdale's best.

[Dagio_maya · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Se metti bianchi e neri nella stessa frase, la gente comincia a infiammarsi."


Coinvolgente, appassionante.
Impossibile – per me- non affezionarmi ad Harry con la sua voce narrante che da un letto di un ospizio vaga tra i ricordi di un lontano passato.

Erano gli anni Trenta; era il Texas orientale con boschi e paludi; era La Depressione, parola che l’allora undicenne Harry, non conosceva.

Una famiglia modesta ma felice e serena la sua, finchè un giorno, assieme alla sorellina Tom, scopre il cadavere di una giovane donna nera.
Un corpo orribilmente mutilato che trascina tutti i protagonisti in una storia infernale.

Tra pregiudizi e superstizioni non è facile mantenere a galla il buon senso e il rispetto per altri esseri umani.

Erano gli Stati Uniti del Sud; era il razzismo, la mala pianta con radici profonde.

Un bel romanzo di formazione che ci racconta che alle volte si cresce di colpo come uno schiaffo inaspettato sul viso…


"Così adesso chiudo gli occhi con i miei ricordi di quei tempi. Le brutte cose che sono accadute non sono nemmeno lontanamente incredibili come lo sono state in realtà. Quando dormo mi ritrovo nella nostra casetta vicino ai boschi e al fiume Sabine. Sento le cicale e le rane, la luna è chiara e la notte è fredda. Io sono giovane e forte, pieno di energie e di entusiasmo."

[Diane Barnes · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a good read, but I can't go higher than 3 stars with it. I knew who the killer was about halfway through, and also guessed the identity of the Goatman fairly early as well. It was well-written with realistic dialogue for the time (1933) and was a good depiction of the morals and opinions of people in the south for the time as well. But there were too many inconsistencies in the plot, and it seemed to me he was retelling "To Kill a Mockingbird" with an East Texas setting. I know Lansdale has a lot of fans, and I enjoyed the book, so I may try another one of his down the road.

I should add that the characters of Tom, the little sister, and Grandma were absolutely stellar.

[Karl · Rating 4 out of 5]

As seen through the eyes of an eleven year old boy and his nine year old sister between the years of 1933 and 1934 in the small East Texas town of Marvel Creek. Just a boy and his sister going squirrel hunting with their dog Toby. Then they discovered the tortured body of a dead black woman. Enter "The Goat Man" stalking the kids.

This is copy 309 of 400 signed and numbered.

[Semjon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Über weite Strecken ist das eigentlich im falschen Genre einsortiert, denn die sehr gute Bewertung vergebe ich nicht für die Kriminalgeschichte, sondern für den Gesellschafts- und Entwicklungsroman. Die Geschichte eines Jungen aus Osttexas in den 30er Jahren, mitten in dem von Rassismus und Armut geprägten Südstaaten, erinnerte mich mehr eine moderne Version von To Kill a Mockingbird. Der rechtschaffene Vater ist der Constable und die moralische Säule, ähnlich wie Mr. Finch. Die Figuren sind sehr liebevoll beschrieben, die Szenen in den bewaldeten Flusslandschaften äußerst atmosphärisch und die Konflikte lebendig geschildert. Da empfand ich den Serienmörder-Plot fast als einen losen Rahmen für das Gesamtwerk. Gegen Ende nimmt der Krimi dann aber Fahrt auf bis zum zwar vorhersehbaren, aber spannend geschriebenen Showdown. Sehr gelungen.

[Britany · Rating 4 out of 5]

East Texas, 1930s, Racial tensions, add in a serial killer and the legend of the "Goat Man"...

Harry is just a little boy growing up in Texas where racial tensions still run thick. His daddy is the town constable and has done his best to raise his children without racial bias. Harry and his sister Thomasina "Tom" are playing around when harry discovers a dead black woman washed up on shore by the river that runs through their town. The woman has been severely beaten, raped, and decidedly murdered. Harry grows up fast overhearing conversations between his daddy and some of the townsfolk. Pretty soon, another woman shows up dead...

This book moves fast, and I was flying through the book to find out what happened and who was behind these murders! I couldn't believe how well Lansdale slides between character development and major plot points. He left every chapter with me wanting more, and I could barely put this book down before I finished it.

Toby the dog was my favorite. There were many little twists in his tiny life, but he was such a tough little guy and showed true courage. I well up again, just thinking about the little terrier.

[Snotchocheez · Rating 4 out of 5]

I probably need to file Joe R. Lansdale in the "Southern Authors I need to keep an eye on" file (if I may be so bold as to lump someone from East Texas into the "South"). I was consistently delighted by my first encounter with his work, the creepy cool 1930's-era Texas Gothic thriller The Bottoms. Much as I found Wiley Cash (another Southern author I've discovered recently) a straightforward, no-nonsense storyteller, Lansdale's style doesn't make room for ornate prose. It's all about establishing setting, creating characters the reader wants to know better, engaging with uncertainties. No flowery gewgaws or cheap devices to be had here: just smart storytelling.

I had reported in a status update that this reminded me quite a bit of To Kill a Mockingbird, though it's probably not fair to compare them; there's not too much overlap storywise. Rather, the feelings Lansdale tale left me with were not unlike those that of Harper Lee's beloved fictional (but very real for the day and time) account of racial injustice. Much like Ms. Lee's Jim Crow-era'd Alabama, The Bottoms has as its backdrop the racial divide in Depression Era East Texas. The story is capably recounted in flashback by octogenarian Harry Crane of his life in the Bottoms (a briar-y mucky morass along the Sabine River) of gruesome goings-on back when he and his younger sister Tomasina ('Tom') were kids. One day while exploring the neighboring Bottoms, Harry and Tom encounter a badly decomposed body of a 'colored' woman strung up with baling wire. This news, after reported to their father (constable Jacob Crane), was met with a collective shrug by most of the white populace ('oh, another N----- whore kilt, big deal' was the prevailing attitude). The black folks were naturally more fearful, yet sanguine, throwing around the "Goat Man" or "Travelling Man" (hobo) lore around to attribute the murder to. The kids (and naturally their constable father) just wanted justice for the killed woman. As a few more brutally murdered corpses start turning up around the Sabine, however, they realize that justice is not going be swift or blind. As allegations by Constable Jacob start flying, the Ku Klux Klan (and its supporters) start meting out justice of its own.

As murder mysteries go, this one wasn't all that taut (even idjit me had this figured out by about the midway mark) but you'll probably overlook that in favor of the sweaty sordidness of the wretched tableaux Lansdale's painted for the reader. He puts you right there in the thick of it, bushwhacking through the brambles, sweating as the protagonists sift the Bottoms for the truth. I devoured this quickly, but I'm certain it will stay with me for quite a while. He's got many novels and short stories under his belt before and since this 2000 release; I can't wait to explore them all.

[debra · Rating 4 out of 5]

4-5 Read this a long while ago, and I remember really liking it. I would never have guessed that this is the same author that writes Hap and Leonard.

[Lou · Rating 5 out of 5]

The main protagonist Harry Crane takes us back to his youth to the time of the 1930's. He tells of his growing up in the family farm in the Bottoms, of their struggles during the great Depression and the grizzly murdered women that they discover in the Bottoms. He tells of his wonders of his youth and his delight in learning of those around him during his coming of age, of his quest and mystery in search of the identity of The Goat Man.

His poor Dog Toby a limp but courageous dog that you'll never forget and his equally brave and lovely sister Tom. That loving kind ma and his grandma really a character to remember his father a stand up righteous kind of guy, a tough law man that wishes to see beyond skin colour. They faces problems with K.K.K members in the search for the murderer. As the story progresses more peoples true colours start to show.

The Bottoms be a place you would love and hate to live, mark my words it sure is a place and a story to remember of as long as you live. It pays homage to the great novel To Kill a Mockingbird, has everything that story stood for and leaves the reader with a similar awe.

Well deserved of the Edgar Award.

This story is just as good as his new novel Edge of Dark Water also taken place during the depression era with equally wonderful and memorable characters.

The story is presented before you in easy flowing storytelling way, a poignant tale of human endeavour against odds, yet another Joe Lansdale great story with wonderful prose. A joy to read full of heart and horrors, a fully immersive reading of a great story.

Once completing this story you would be in regret due to no longer being in company with these characters just as the main protagonist mentions in his recollections...
"Each time i visit now, close my eyes to go there, i hope when i awake i will no longer be of this world, but one where Mama and Daddy, Tom and Grandma, perhaps even Mose and the Goat Man, and of course good old Toby, will be waiting for me."

Watch out for a movie adaptation that is going to be released, this would be a really good movie especially starring with Bill Paxton as an actor.

"Just a short time before I had been a happy kid with no worries. I didn't even know it was the Depression, let alone there were murderers outside of the magazines I read down at the barbershop, and none f the magazines I read had to do with killers who did this kind of thing. And Daddy, though a good man, sincere and true, if briefly distracted, was no Doc Savage.
In the detective magazines the cops and private eyes saw a clue two, they put it together. Cracked the whole case wide open. In real life, there were clues a plenty, but instead of cracking the case open, they just made it all the more confusing."

"Daddy was often chastised by certain church-minded folks for keeping pulps handy at the barbershop. But as my Dad always explained about racy covers, it's just a little paint, folks. Nobody's naked."

"Another thing different then was you learned about things like dying when you were quite young. It couldn't be helped. You raised and killed chickens and hogs, hunted and fished, so you were constantly up against it. That being the case, I think we respected life more than some do now, and useless suffering was not to be tolerated."

Read my interview with the author @ http://more2read.com/review/interview-with-joe-r-lansdale/

[Carol Storm · Rating 2 out of 5]

Remember, Chilluns, It's Always A Sin To Rip Off A Mocking Bird!

All right, I loved BUBBA HOTEP. The movie, not the book. And I did enjoy a couple of Joe R. Lansdale stories that I read in the collection HIGH COTTON. ("Godzilla's 12 Step Program" was a special favorite.) But when he tries to turn all "lit'rary" and create a poignant coming of age novel . . . well, that hound dog don't hunt.

Everything here is something you've seen before . . . many, many times before. Sensitive boy narrator? Check. Strong but flawed father? Check. Peppery old lady with a heart of gold? Check. Darkies who know their place but are ever so grateful when folks give them just a little bit more? Check.

Two stars for good nature descriptions and really knowing the rural South. Other than that . . .

If H.P. Lovecraft tried to write IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, this is what he might have come up with.

Shudder!

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is my first read by authorJoe R. Lansdale and it won't be my last. It was a good, suspenseful mystery. I had some uneasiness throughout the book and had an idea of "who done it" but that didn't take away from the intensity of the novel. The racial tension and the details are at times, a little much, which add to some very uncomfortable moments. I loved the narration told in flashbacks and the supporting characters. A novel I enjoyed from beginning to end, that was very hard to put down. One of the more thorough epilogues I have ever read.

[Still]

I can’t finish this book.
Life is too short.

Kind of like Daniel Woodrell for young adults.

No rating - that would be unfair.
Just not for me.

[Andy Marr · Rating 4 out of 5]

Not so much of a whodunit as an i-know-whodunit. The identities of the murderer and Goat Man were clear to me by page 200. I much preferred Landale's Sunset and Sawdust, which gripped from the first page to the last. Still, Lansdale's incapable of writing bad literature, and for this reason it's four stars. It’s also highly recommended :)

[The Girl with the Sagittarius Tattoo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow, that was... gruesome. Graphic. Stomach-churning. Unputdownable.

Joe Lansdale, of the Hap & Leonard series, set this (standalone?) novel in rural 1930s Texas, about a series of violent murders before serial killers were well known. Women keep turning up dead in the Bottoms, the marshy river area just outside a little one-horse town. Harry and his little sister Tom(asina) are the children of the local constable, the only lawman for miles. Their dad isn't a very good constable, much less a good investigator, and these murders are way over his head.

Tbh, I didn't truly glom onto this novel until the kids' maternal grandmother shows up around the halfway mark. My attention finally stuck thanks to her potty mouth and cavalier attitude toward her and the kids involving themselves in the case.

In the end, I wasn't really satisfied. I pretty much had the killer narrowed down, so it wasn't that; it had more to do with the dismissive treatment of what happens during the climax to 10yo Tom. Gave me cringe. Otherwise, you gotta give it to JRL - he doesn't shy away from sticking readers' faces right in the super dark shit that flows out of evil souls. Recommended, but only to those with very few triggers.

[Camie · Rating 5 out of 5]

From his nursing home bed Harry Collins recalls some of the suspenseful events of coming up in post Depression times in the swampy " bottoms" of East Texas. This coming of age tale about the summer he and his sister Tom stumble upon the mutilated dead corpse of a black woman and get the entire town caught up in a whirlwind of uncertainty and racial conflict, is a winner of The Edgar and American Mystery Awards. The books blurb cites it as a thriller with echoes of William Faulkner and Harper Lee. I did see a few similarities, as the father in the story Constable Jacob Collins is charged with trying to uphold the law at a time when aiding a black person could result in the KKK burning a cross in your yard, and it's told in a no nonsense form which is similar to some Faulkner's tales. Come to think of it we even have a misunderstood and mysterious Boo Radley type character derived from actual folklore, called The Goatman lurking about. A February selection of my Southern Lit club, I found it a very engaging read !! 5 stars

[Kirk Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Everything I have read by Joe R. Lansdale has been good. Really good storytelling that easily draws me in. I cared about every character including the families pet hound. The Bottoms was the best of the three I have read. Told from the point of view of a twelve year old boy helping his father, the town constable, to solve the mystery behind a string of brutal murders. Everything you might ever need to know about the piney woods of East Texas.

[RJ - Slayer of Trolls · Rating 2 out of 5]

The Bottoms is a stand-alone mystery novel by Lansdale who also writes the Hap and Leonard mystery series. Lansdale was born in small town East Texas - almost West Louisiana - which is where this novel is set. The novel landed Lansdale a handful of nominations and awards, including an Edgar Award for Best Novel. The only question is: why?

This story, narrated by a young boy, will feel very familiar to anyone who has read To Kill a Mockingbird, and there are also shades of Where the Red Fern Grows and the film Stand By Me. Our story begins as Narrator Boy is out hunting squirrels with his dog and tomboyish young sister when they run across a dead body tied to a tree in the swamp-like "Bottoms" area outside of their small town, and they also briefly encounter the mysterious Boo Radley Goat Man who is said to haunt the area. Over the course of the rest of the book we follow the kids as they pursue the mystery accompanied at times by their amiable but relatively useless Town Constable father or their feisty grandmother and along the way we meet some of the colorful local townfolk who fall into one of three categories: 1) racially progressive morally strong but simple small town folk, 2) cartoonish bigots who cut eyeholes in their bedsheets, and 3) everyone else who all show up for a lynchin' of a harmless local black man and beat the little boy and his useless daddy senseless but then disappear for the rest of the book. The daddy turns into a alcoholic for a little while (mom doesn't mind - all she does is cook and knock boots with dad) but he comes out of it as soon as the story needs him to, and the boy has no ill mental aftereffects whatsoever from his severe beating. You'll spot the killer right away if you read many mysteries at all, but if any plot details confuse you don't worry, the rapist-killer takes some time in the third act to explain himself Scooby Doo-style to the kids, whose ages fluctuate wildly from young kids to pre-teens/teens depending on whatever the plot requires at the moment. As for the rickety suspension bridge you see in the early goings, remember what Chekhov said: "If you show a rickety suspension bridge in the first act, then your characters MUST be dangling from it in the third act." I think that's what he said, anyway. There are some nice touches that help bring the town and its denizens to life and a brief but thought-provoking dive into some of the characters' racial ancestry but overall the book is a big disappointment.