Nathan McCall raised my consciousness in the 90s with Makes Me Wanna Holler; but I did not know of this novel till a few months ago. I enjoyed it. It is a good old-fashioned novel. I say old-fashioned not because it's stale or irrelevant, but because it has a plot, and themes, and attempts to make you think about events going on today, in an earnest way. It's not the type of book that is in vogue right now - it doesn't depend on unreliable narrators, or multiple voices, or fractured timelines, or plot twists that wait until the very end, or various other writing-program or bestseller gimmicks. Rather, in the vein of Steinbeck, it expresses ideas through characters and their choices. It was a satisfying read. For the most part, McCall does a great job of creating characters. Self-contained, reserved middle-aged Barlowe Reed, able to handle himself in a fight but always aiming for good, his hustling young-20s nephew Tyrone, the ragtag trash-scavenging Ricky, the crisply enunciating, upwardly aspiring Lula Simmons, were all real to me. McCall has a terrific ear for dialogue. As Hubert Selby Jr. did in Requiem for a Dream, he uses phonetic spelling to capture the way people sound (for example, "Is time" or "Wha she buy?"), and it works. I liked how McCall was able to show the perspectives of different characters, even in a single paragraph, and express his themes through their actions. For example, in the episode in which Barlowe accepts Ricky's offer to do yardwork for him for money:
"Now Ricky, if I let you do the work, how much you gonna charge me?"
Ricky peered towards the sky, as if consulting some heavenly pricing chart. Then he glanced down at Barlowe's work shoes. The shoes looked pretty sporty; had a nice shine, too.
"Gimme thurty-five"
He glanced at Barlowe over he top of his sunshades and quickly looked away.
"Ricky. I know you can do better."
"I do a good job!" He smiled, flashing his dirty teeth.
"Yeah," said Barlowe. I got somethin that might help us out. Wait right here."
He hurried around to the back of the house and returned carrying a leaf blower and a red gas can. He handed them to Ricky.
"You can use this blower on the light stuff in front,. You won't have to do much rakin at all...Now how much you gonna charge?"
Ricky concentrated hard, making mental computations for a price adjustment -- allowing for use of the man's leaf blower, of course.
"How about les do thurty!"
"Ricky. Is MY blower."
"I'ma do a good job! You gon love my work!"
Barlowe weighed the counteroffer. For him, such negotiations amounted to a kind of charitable game. The goal was to donate and inspire, without giving handouts. The intent was to be tough but fair, to avoid being taken advantage of and, at the same time, taking care not to wound the recipient's pride.
The recipient - in this case, Ricky Brown - had his own simple goal: to maximize profit. That required a certain rough-hewn shrewdness, the ability to spot the angle on a negotiating edge Ricky was very experienced a this, ever watchful for signs of fear, a bleeding heart or, best of all, profound guilt. On a good day, any one of those factors could bring a full ten dollars more than the asking price. "
Barlowe gives Ricky $5 for gas for the blower and Ricky disappears, supposedly headed for the gas station. Barlowe's nephew Tyrone chastises Barlowe for paying Ricky in advance ("You won't see him no mo till he spend it up. Then he gonna come back wit a long story...You watch") Three weeks later Ricky reappears and does the work. Barlowe feels a surge of pride, "He had given a man a chance to make an honest dollar, and after all that time the man had been moved to come back and prove himself." What Barlowe does not know is that Tyrone had found Ricky and roughed him up, threatening him with more violence if he does not do the work. In some simple paragraphs, we see so much about these characters - Barlowe's proud, almost 60s-70s era idealism, Tyrone's pragmatism, Ricky's combination of village buffoon and savviness. I understand how some reviewers took offense to the fact that some characters are portrayed in a negative light, but it did not seem to me stereotypical. McCall has compassion for his characters. There is a lot of wry humor in the book. I took off a star because, as other reviewers pointed out, the two main white characters are pretty cardboard, and a couple of the plot twists are strain credulity. But this book seemed prescient in showing race relations - including a scene in which police officers, arresting a man, are confronted by an angry crowd in a scene that could escalate into brutality - and even the police are portrayed with compassion. I applaud McCall for not ending the book with some feel-good, we can all get along ending. The ultimate point seems to be that some divides are too huge to cross. And yet there is sympathy for those who keep trying. I think this book does an excellent job of portraying the way things are and making you think.