James Rudolph Youngblood, aka Jimmy the Kid, is an enforcer, a "ghost rider" for the Maceo brothers, Rosario and Sam, rulers of "the Free State of Galveston," who are prospering through illicit pleasures in the midst of the Great Depression. Raised on an isolated West Texas ranch that he was forced to flee at age eighteen following the violent breakup of his foster family, Jimmy has found a home and a profession in Galveston -- and a mentor in Rose Maceo.
Looming over Jimmy's story like an ancient curse is the specter of his fearsome father. Their ties of blood, evident since Jimmy's boyhood, have been drawn tighter over time. Then a strange and beautiful girl enters his life and a swift and terrifying sequence of events is set in motion. Jimmy must cross the border and go deep into the brutal and merciless country of his ancestors -- where the story's harrowing climax closes a circle of destiny many years in the making.
James Carlos Blake was an American writer of novels, novellas, short stories, and essays. His work has received extensive critical favor and several notable awards. He has been called “one of the greatest chroniclers of the mythical American outlaw life” as well as “one of the most original writers in America today and … certainly one of the bravest.” He was a recipient of the University of South Florida's Distinguished Humanities Alumnus Award and a member of the Texas Institute of Letters.
So much better when he is writing about the Texas-Mexico border, James Carlos Blake produces some of the starkest, most brutal imagery I've read in contemporary fiction. But there is a bit of a quandary. Why does he do it? The characters of his fiction are almost all lowlifes. Never a redeeming one in the bunch of them. Even in his Wolfe family novels, the upper crusters he depicts are just as quick to anger, launch into violence, and kill as those on the very edge of society. All his characters have simple motivations. For his male characters, it's quite simply their penis. Anything they do is either about getting money to get into a whore house and get an erection, or taking violent revenge on someone who has interrupted their erection. Sure, there is family loyalty and trust in friendship, but the core of a Blake novel never gets too far away from his obsession with penises. In his better works, that is not so apparent. So, this is one of those semi-better works, and Blake builds a tale like he always does: fast paced, addictive, and marvelously efficient. His storytelling is second to none.
But one thing, too, about his storytelling. After reading most of his novels, I can see not only the same themes recur but the very same events. Yet it works. Blake never seems stale. And what was centered in one novel, may only lay at the rim in another, or may just flash as a momentary reminder of earlier (and, in the case of those who have read the Wolfe family saga, later) places, people, and events.
Revenge, heartbreak and friendship. As addicting as Blake's superb Wolfe quartet and just as absorbing. While not historical fiction, the mixture of actual characters and this gripping tale of early 20th century Texas and Mexico are as alive and vibrant as if they were alive today.
James Carlos Blake is by far one of my favorite authors. Under the Skin is a good story but not his best. If you are not familiar with his novels, I would first read "Pistoleer" or "Red River Grass" first. As an avid fan, I enjoyed this book!
If this site had half stars I'd give Under the Skin a solid 3 1/2...it's not as tightly woven or as emotionally charged as other Blake works I've read, and frankly I felt that a few of the situations were resolved awfully conveniently, but even so anything by Blake is better than most of what's currently available on the market. This one focuses on a guy who's the main hired muscle for a pair of gangsters in 1936 Galveston, and it's great fun just reading about the past of an area I'm fairly familiar with as recreated by a talented writer. There's also some great flashback scenes of the Mexican Revolution, and some ruggedly painted scenes of what it might have been like growing up in West Texas around the turn of the last century. I wasn't just blown away by this book the way I was with Wildwood Boys, but I'd still highly recommend it as it's a quick, gritty bit of historical fiction that's fast paced and highly entertaining. As a side note, Under the Skin is by far the most filmable of the Blake books I've read to date, which works well, as he mentioned when I met him at a reading a few months back that this book is under option to be made into a movie. I for one hope it happens, because it'll make for great cinema, and I'd LOVE to see 1930s Galveston portrayed on screen (if it's picked up by a competent director!)
I have discovered James Carlos Blake and he is very entertaining, with a big dose of southern history. I have now read 4 of his books and will soon have read them all.
"When a guy does something for no good reason, there’s usually a girl." -- some gangster in this book
There's a lot wrong with this book
I was spoiled by The Pistoleer, In the Rogue Blood, Red Grass River, and Wildwood Boys. And I knew he couldn't keep it up forever.
Pros 1. Lots of fighting and violence 2. BARs 3. Doesn't take place in New York City 3. Not 100% of it is a Love Story
Cons 1. Part of it is a Love Story 2. Ol' Rough 'n' Tumble heartless killer suddenly becomes the Sonny part of Sonny & Cher and goes gaga over some beaner hosebag with candlelit walks on the beach, Netflix bingeing on Cagney & Lacey reruns and cuddling with a bottle of white wine and taking time to smell the roses with his Soulmate and Partner in Crime. Trump supporters swipe left. They ACTUALLY take moonlit swims in the Gulf. It's what it's.
The trouble with this Fatal Fem BS is that it's never believable:
1. First of all, the book version of a Fatal Fem is invariably like the movie version of a Fatal Fem: they cast Shelley Duvall or Whopper Goldstein as this little piece o' chicken and we're supposed to go along with it. They just DECLARE "this chick is irresistible". Yeah, OK Bronies. 2. In real life no guy goes that goofy over some girl. (I even know a Foodie who didn't lose it too bad when his girlfriend left him for a short-order cook.) A professional murderer doesn't swim every ocean and climb every mountain for a piece o' tail. No, not even a cab-driver will do that.
These fantasies are for women. Worthless as they are, to themselves women gotta pretend their value is some ineffable thing, something spiritual, &c., &c. In other words, imaginary. Horny Hollywood Harveys repeat this to them till they start believing there IS such a thing as a Soulmate or a Partner in Crime. And nowadays, books are downstream from movies. We call this bullshit "Love Stories".
And Love Stories are for: 1. Women 2. Males who: - identify as women - go to the opera - are enchanted by landscapes and vegetation that's not a crop - use beard oil - go to a gym - actually read poetry - get a haircut every two weeks - pay more than ten bucks for that haircut - drink tea - take public transport - think they are "artists" - eat vegetables - like gardening - go fly-fishing - go skiing - go hiking - are Foodies - have sex with other males - like cooking - do cleaning - dress up like women, yes, EVEN if it's Halloween - use the word "infused"
A book's gotta be believable to me. I have to think this COULD happen. But because a Love Story always has a man in it, we know Love Stories can't really happen.
Maybe JCB wrote this book for women. Blood-thirsty women. Could be. It sure isn't for men. Every man knows that "love" is the delusion that one woman differs from another.
This was an ok book. I read it after reading handsome harry also by the same author. I was incredibly underwhelmed by this one. The story was meh it seemed choppy and there were what seemed to be side quests that didn’t make sense to the plot. All for the woman he chased to just die? I know it wasn’t a romance but damn his buddy ended up Killing he’s girl wtf.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I enjoyed it more than the other book I have read by Blake, Wildwood Boys, but had similar issues with both. It seems with both books hat the author wants us to sympathize with the main character, who is a killer. I resent being pulled in that direction, but it bothered me less in this book--perhaps because I found the character's back story a bit more appealing. And in this book, unlike Wildwood, the character lives to tell the tale. He doesn't really deserve to.
Was worried that the narrator (who, it's important to point out, is an unstoppable killing machine) was going to become uninteresting very quickly, but I did enjoy his back story. Like the Handsome Harry book, this was more of a 3.5 than just a 3, but I think I'm anxious to check out more of Blake's novels that are set during the 19th century. Kinda over the 1930s gangsterism thing.