My library copy of this book carries a little sticker on the back. “FI, 21 Day, Adult Only.” I’ve no clue what “FI” means, and “21 Day” obviously refers to the lending period. As for the “Adult Only” warning, that much is self-explanatory. Or at least it should be, except this is the first library book I’ve come across to carry the caveat.
Through Darkest America definitely earned its sticker. It’s one of the better, albeit lesser-known entries in the postapocalyptic subgenre of SF fiction. It features everything from graphic rape to torture and bestiality. The book’s main theme, in fact, is how, if man is not careful, he can turn into a beast. In some cases, this transformation can become quite literal. Imagine H.G. Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau mixed with Cormac McCarthy’s The Road (albeit much better written than McCarthy’s book) and you’re in the neighborhood.
The work follows the peregrinations of a young boy named Howie through the wasteland of what was once America. It begins with him enjoying a peaceful, if not quite idyllic life with his father, mother, and sister. There are rumors of war on the wind, though, and the government men are coming riding in on steeds, looking for recruits and supplies to requisition.
The soldiers rub the locals the wrong way, and violence breaks out. After Howie’s small town is razed and his family is killed, he sets out to seek vengeance. Only author Neil Barrett Jr.’s understanding of humanity is too thorough to let the book become a simple revenge yarn. And though it shares beats with the classic “Hero’s Quest” monomyth, it’s not quite that, either. It can’t even be categorized as a picaresque, as young Howie is no hell-raking picaro. He wants neither love nor sex, though he’ll take either enroute to finding what he really wants, which are answers.
Am I spoiling it for you by telling you Howie doesn’t get any answers? This is the kind of book where you know, after the first few pages, that there isn’t going to be a tidy ending. It’s very well-written, though, in an understated way, doing a good job of showing us the scales falling from the heretofore-uncircumcised eyes of a young boy.