David Joy (1) (1983–)

This is the third book I've read by David Joy and, by far, my favorite. Where his previous works focused on ordinary Joes who struggled with, or had family members who struggled with, drug addiction, Joy made a big switch her and decided to target racism and The Lost Cause the "pseudohistorical negationist myth that claims the cause of the Confederate States during the American Civil War was just, heroic, and not centered on slavery".

As he has always done, Joy takes pains to add dimension to his characters and make them much more interesting that one would expect from, say, an aging long-term white southern small-town sheriff. John Coggins deeply mourns the death of his best friend and hunting buddy, the grandfather of Toya Gardner, the young Black artist from Atlanta who has returned home North Carolina mountains and begun stirring up trouble by using her art to dredge up unpleasant truths from the past, truths whose dormancy have allowed Jackson County to remain the largely peaceful backwater county that Sheriff Coggins has enjoyed for so many years.

Joy uses Toya to pose questions about the nature and meaning of art. While this may sound boring, it becomes less so when one asks which is a better example of art, a bronze statue of a confederate soldier, or that same statue painted to show it with bloodstained hands. (I, for one, support Bertolt Brecht's assertion that "Art is not a mirror held up to reality but a hammer with which to shape it.") Needless to say, things in Jackson County start to heat up quickly.

I highly recommend this book.

My thanks to the late Mike Sullivan, aka Lawyer, and all the folks at the On the Southern Literary Trail group for giving me the opportunity to read and discuss this and many other fine books.… (altro)

It's interesting that while reading The Line That Held Us I thought of Flannery O'Connor's famous story A Good Man is Hard to Fine. Turns out that David Joy wanted to write a book as if William Gay and Flannery O'Connor co-wrote McCarthy's Child Of God. He wanted to create a "bad guy" as memorable as Lester Ballard, The Misfit, or the Paper-Hanger.

I think in Dwayne Brewer he gets pretty darn close. I'll explain.

Joy’s third novel, “The Line That Held Us,” is another amazing work of Appalachian noir/Southern Gothic storytelling. It begins with Darl Moody, a hunter who sneaks onto a neighbor’s land to poach deer out of season. When he accidentally shoots and kills a ginseng poacher after mistaking him for a boar, Darl calls his best friend, Calvin Hooper, to help dispose of the body.

Unlike Joy’s earlier protagonists, these men aren’t connected to the local meth trade, the source of so much violence in “Where All Light Tends to Go” (2015) and “The Weight of This World” (2017). But Darl and Calvin have another problem: the dead ginseng poacher’s older brother, Dwayne Brewer, is a megalomaniacal villain straight out of a Coen brothers movie.

What is interesting about Dwayne as an antagonist is he is sort of sympathetic (to a degree - you sympathize with him losing his brother) and he lives by a strict sense of moral codes. He was done wrong and believes those guilty of wronging him should pay. At the same, Dwayne in many ways is the quintessential negative Appalachian stereotype. He is a confederate flag-loving guy. He shops at Wal-Mart. Etc. Throughout the story, Dwayne grows into a very despicable character but he is sympathetic because his actions are driven by his sorrow and love for his brother. Was it weird that I sympathized with his pain? I'm not sure.

To say anything else would be to spoil the suspense of the story. But know that the ending had me on the end of my seat!

“The Line That Held Us” is a suspenseful page-turner, complete with one of the absolutely killer endings that have become one of Joy’s signatures.
… (altro)

"Life was for the living and death was for the dead, and there was enough beauty and grace in both to mend the most tender and broken."

When These Mountains Burn is a book about addictions and especially a book about grief. As I'm sure you know, opiates steal thousands of souls every day. In North Carolina, where When These Mountains Burn take place (I believe), in 2018 alone, an estimated 79% of drug overdose deaths involved opioids. It's an epidemic that is literally destroying our society, tearing families apart.

David Joy's When These Mountains Burn tackles this horrible subject in a fast-moving story crime story, one that is focused on the bonds of family, father and sons, and the horror of addictions and the hope of healing.

The novel is about Raymond Mathis, Denny Rattler, DEA Agent Ronald Holland, and addiction. Mathis is attempting to save his son from opiates and is trying to carry on without his wife who is deceased. This impulse to rescue his son is ruining him, both emotionally and financially. Denny Rattler is a Cherokee Nation member and heroin addict. Denny commits calculated, small crimes to get funding for his next high. Holland is a DEA Agent who has lost his belief in the criminal justice system. Holland is a mercenary, in it for money and excitement. As the novel progresses, Raymond’s son dies with Denny in the room. Simultaneously, Agent Holland investigates the murky drug-world of Western North Carolina.

These three men, through the weight of unavoidable decisions, become entangled with one another. A vigilante, a junkie, and a lawman float through Appalachia’s hills. Things get violent, unexcepted alliances are formed, and it ends in a very surprising way.

And I personally found the ending to be incredibly powerful and moving.

With memorable characters, ingenious plotting, and attention to detail, and often, moving prose, Joy has written a masterful work of crime fiction. It's unforgettably powerful and quite visceral. Don't miss out on reading this novel.

David Joy is truly a gifted storyteller. I look forward to reading more of his work.… (altro)