Darwin Burr was, once upon a time, a hometown hero – a basketball star who took “the Shot” that gave his downstate Illinois high school the state championship. Even now, as Darwin faces middle age, the luster of his stardom has not entirely faded, even if the local bar – transformed into a real restaurant –no longer offers Dar free drinks and has removed from its wall a commemorative photograph of his shining moment. Yet always, even at the moment of Darwin’s youthful triumph, another figure has been present, supporting him – indeed, making his achievement possible. Billy. Billy, who threw Darwin the pass that set up the Shot. Billy, who convinced Darwin to drive sixty miles to Chicago to hang out on Rush Street, where Dar met Daina, the woman who would be his bride. Billy, the best man at Dar’s and Daina’s wedding. Billy, now in middle age, Dar’s boss at the distribution center at “AutoPro,” the largest employer in town. Billy, a true friend, if ever there was one. Or…was he?
In his new novel Better Days, Len Joy paints a convincing picture of a man who, like many fine athletes, reaches the height of his fame very early in life. In middle age, while other men may be coming into their full powers in their chosen professions, Dar is content with an easy job and the “unofficial” duty to be “Billy’s golf partner when he was being wined and dined by AutoPro’s suppliers.” Darwin handles his descent from glory without any particular resentment or noticeable malaise. However, the smooth sailing is destined to become bumpy. In the first line of the novel – before we know anything else about Darwin, we read: “Last October, a few weeks before everything went to hell, Daina told me I lacked ambition.” That opening line reveals tension between husband and wife that will unfold as the story develops, and leaves no doubt that rough seas await.
Darwin’s life in Billy’s shadow has had its appeal. Dar’s position at AutoPro has not challenged him, but has allowed him to feel secure. As Dar tells us, “Billy took care of me.” Dar’s family life, while lacking the intimacy of open communication between husband and wife, also seems secure. The Burrs have a beautiful home and retirement savings. Astra, the couple’s daughter, is thriving and a talented basketball player in her own right. Daina, an immigrant from Latvia, is committed to her job as a social worker, which consumes much of her time and requires the kind of zeal she yearns to see in her husband. Yet, as we know, everything is going to go “to hell.” And we suspect, early on, that the approaching calamity will have something to do with Billy.
Better Days is, above all, a great story. Told in the first person by Darwin, the tale’s twists and turns keep the pages turning. Darwin, while carefully avoiding anything that seems like a promotion at work, at Billy’s prodding takes on the job of assistant to the new coach of the high school girls’ basketball team. That new head coach, Fariba Pahlavi, the school’s guidance counselor, is a triathlete from Iran who, notwithstanding her pedigree as an athlete, has never played basketball. At last, Darwin has found a challenge he actually wants to take on, recruiting his daughter and, later, the fantastically talented Toni, an African American girl who previously avoided this “white girls’ team.” “I have to admit,” Dar reflects, “that the idea of getting back in the game, even as a coach for a team that hadn’t won a game in two seasons, had me stoked.” At work, though, the trouble arrives. Darwin knows something is off when the long-time receptionist addresses him as “Mr. Burr.” Life is about to change. The reader, already hooked, takes a deep breath and prepares for the journey.
The story, good as it is, is only part of the appeal of Better Days. The book explores a number of themes and poses ethical dilemmas, particularly centering on the overlapping themes of loyalty, betrayal, and self-preservation. Darwin faces hard decisions in his relationship with Billy, the patron whose benefactions may not always have come through legal means. He faces them with Daina, whose disapproval needles him, but with whom he barely communicates. Darwin does not wish to face these things – he does his best to avoid having an inner life, but there it is, in spite of his avoidance. “I was overthinking this whole situation,” he once tells himself. He withholds critical information from Daina, presupposing that she will act in a certain way and seeking to deflect rather than discuss. He avoids talking about his own problems and hopes to avoid thinking them through. Indeed, he sums up his attitude toward self-awareness, saying, “They say eighty percent of life is just showing up. That’s what I did. My life was unexamined and that was fine with me. Adam and Eve before they took that bite. I never thought my life was perfect, but it was good enough.” That is pretty darn self-aware, for a guy who has no inner life. Darwin fights against his self-awareness, denying it, perhaps because he doesn’t want to acknowledge that life is going to change.
I loved Better Days. Darwin is a wonderful character, carefully crafted and believable. The plot never disappoints, and the pages turn quickly. The setting in small town Illinois – life just in the shadow of Chicago – is particularly absorbing for those who, like me, have lived there. The ambiance of the mid-2000s also drew me in – complete with allusions to Law and Order, for goodness sake, my favorite show from that era! Len Joy puts his own experience as a triathlete to good use in creating the character of Fariba. The basketball scenes are delightful for any fan of that sport (also my favorite!). For all these reasons, I highly recommend Better Days. Len Joy is a gifted writer, and this is a book to be savored.