The Hawk is Dying is Crews' sixth published novel, and similar to Vonnegut's five works before Slaughterhouse Five, this book feels like the culmination of everything he was circling in those first five works. Make no mistake, this is Crew's Hamlet - it is a striking, brutal and important work of southern literature and it is an outright shame that it is not only out of print for decades, but that it is mostly forgotten.
Crews tethers his narrative to George, the Southern everyman that Crews knew intimately. I'm a near completionist of Harry Crews, and there is one chord that he strikes in all of his works - mostly with timpanic resonance - but in this novel he tries his hand at a subtle strum of these notes, and it works. The inescapable poverty and genetic collaring of his people, a.k.a. grits - the ones today we would call white trash - create such a crushing gravitational shackling that the escape velocity from it is a near impossibility. Education, travel, financial improvement - these are dreams rarely achieved. When you seemingly can't control a single thing in your environment, is it shocking when you turn toward said environs and rage against it in a quixotic attempt to give meaning to your existence? Crews looks into the void and performs a swan dive. Correction: hawk dive.