This is a difficult book to review. I feel guilty for giving it three stars. It's one of those books you read and you're pretty much obligated to give it a five star review. A man is on death row! He converted to Buddhism! His struggle and so on! Have some compassion! Plus there's a campaign to prove his innocence!
The book felt flat to me. Which feels like a terrible thing to say, but it did. If this was a book about a man who had found Christ, I doubt it would even be on my radar. Or anyone's radar, for that matter.
There are no details about his crime that got him on death row, and the book says that's because he's fighting the charges. It seems insane that the conspiracy to kill a prison guard could result in a death sentence -- but without the details of the case, who knows what happened? I may have to research the details elsewhere.
Without these details in the book, the text feels a little hollow. It's a little like having a book about a coffee shop, but we can't talk about coffee.
Perhaps I am jaded. I've read many books about prison. I've listened to the San Quentin podcast. I know some facts and details about Buddhism. So, bizarrely, for me, there isn't anything new in this book. Which is also a weird thing to say.
Some of the stories are interesting, funny, heartbreaking. But the characters are never fully fleshed out. I know the author is trying to protect people's identity and is disguising certain features. But the people end up feeling oddly interchangeable.
Is it me? Have I become so jaded? I do feel agony over the American prison system and the death penalty is the most disgusting human creation. But this book didn't really hit me the way it wanted to.
There are forwards and afterwards by Buddhist teachers. Those feel like they are there to give the book some weight that it's missing.
I'm sorry. Clearly it's me. I'm a jerk. I'll see myself out.