"The Turnaround," by George Pelecanos (2008)
Right up front: George Pelecanos is one of my favorite authors. He writes exactly the kind of crime novels I'm interested in reading, ones that venture beyond the crime (whic
h in some cases doesn't even occur on the page) to its effects on a community. He prefers a lean, direct writing style, relies little on contrived plot twists, and allows his characters only the hardest earned of optimism. His dialogue is spot-on and his characters are complex. He rarely utilizes violence for its own sake, choosing instead to chart the effects that ripple out after an act of violence occurs. It's not a big surprise why David Simon tapped Pelecanos to write several episodes of "The Wire," since that show took all of the above qualities as its mission statement.
So I have pretty high standards for a Pelecanos novel, and each time he has delivered -- and, for the most part, he delivers in his new novel, "The Turnaround," as well. But sometimes when you've read an author a few times, you start to see the machinery behind the story, and all of those elements that made the first few books such eye-opening experiences now come off as rote. This might explain my disappointment in his otherwise solid new novel, one I'd still recommend despite its flaws. It contains all the hallmarks that make Pelecanos such a good read, but for the first time, I found myself saying, "We've been down this road before."
The novel begins in 1972, when three white teens, high on marijuana and youthful arrogance, drive to the other side of town and casually shout out racial epithets to three black teens as they drive by. But the road dead-ends, and the white kids are forced to turn around and drive back as the black kids stand waiting, poised. One kid runs away. Another doesn't make it out alive. The novel then jumps to present day, as we follow the progress of those teenagers, now in their 50s, as they all come to terms with their roles in The Incident.
This is treated with the gravity you'd expect from Pelecanos, as he understands more than most other crime novelists how one 10-minute sequence in 1972 could leave scars that never go away. There's also an economy to his prose that is both deliberate and welcome; Pelecanos has always flirted with the stripped-down aspect of hard-boiled fiction, but never before with such confidence.
If you had to single out one overarching theme coursing through his works, it's the nature of manhood. On whether a character measures up as a man, Pelecanos's definition seems clear: a real man gets up, goes to work every day, is there for his children (biological or otherwise), remains faithful to his woman, stays loyal to his friends, pays his bills and his debts, and maintains a long mental Rolodex of great soul songs from the 1970s. Tough to argue with those criteria, but sometimes Pelecanos relies exclusively on those guidelines when establishing his characters, to the point of repetition.
In "The Turnaround," one character, having worked hard all day, is said to relax at night with his "bought-on-time" television. Another character, who works in his father's restaurant, learns that "Work was what men did. Not gambling or freeloading or screwing off. Work." The effect is that Pelecanos sometimes telegraphs his characters in a way that's only slightly less clumsy than just saying Character A is good and Character B is bad.
Most of these hiccups occur in the early stages of the novel; the story settles in once the action moves to present day, and as they say on book jackets everywhere, I wasn't able to put the book down. But this still seems like a small step back from his previous novel, "The Night Gardener"; it's minor Pelecanos, a novelist riffing on some familiar themes. B
h in some cases doesn't even occur on the page) to its effects on a community. He prefers a lean, direct writing style, relies little on contrived plot twists, and allows his characters only the hardest earned of optimism. His dialogue is spot-on and his characters are complex. He rarely utilizes violence for its own sake, choosing instead to chart the effects that ripple out after an act of violence occurs. It's not a big surprise why David Simon tapped Pelecanos to write several episodes of "The Wire," since that show took all of the above qualities as its mission statement.So I have pretty high standards for a Pelecanos novel, and each time he has delivered -- and, for the most part, he delivers in his new novel, "The Turnaround," as well. But sometimes when you've read an author a few times, you start to see the machinery behind the story, and all of those elements that made the first few books such eye-opening experiences now come off as rote. This might explain my disappointment in his otherwise solid new novel, one I'd still recommend despite its flaws. It contains all the hallmarks that make Pelecanos such a good read, but for the first time, I found myself saying, "We've been down this road before."
The novel begins in 1972, when three white teens, high on marijuana and youthful arrogance, drive to the other side of town and casually shout out racial epithets to three black teens as they drive by. But the road dead-ends, and the white kids are forced to turn around and drive back as the black kids stand waiting, poised. One kid runs away. Another doesn't make it out alive. The novel then jumps to present day, as we follow the progress of those teenagers, now in their 50s, as they all come to terms with their roles in The Incident.
This is treated with the gravity you'd expect from Pelecanos, as he understands more than most other crime novelists how one 10-minute sequence in 1972 could leave scars that never go away. There's also an economy to his prose that is both deliberate and welcome; Pelecanos has always flirted with the stripped-down aspect of hard-boiled fiction, but never before with such confidence.
If you had to single out one overarching theme coursing through his works, it's the nature of manhood. On whether a character measures up as a man, Pelecanos's definition seems clear: a real man gets up, goes to work every day, is there for his children (biological or otherwise), remains faithful to his woman, stays loyal to his friends, pays his bills and his debts, and maintains a long mental Rolodex of great soul songs from the 1970s. Tough to argue with those criteria, but sometimes Pelecanos relies exclusively on those guidelines when establishing his characters, to the point of repetition.
In "The Turnaround," one character, having worked hard all day, is said to relax at night with his "bought-on-time" television. Another character, who works in his father's restaurant, learns that "Work was what men did. Not gambling or freeloading or screwing off. Work." The effect is that Pelecanos sometimes telegraphs his characters in a way that's only slightly less clumsy than just saying Character A is good and Character B is bad.
Most of these hiccups occur in the early stages of the novel; the story settles in once the action moves to present day, and as they say on book jackets everywhere, I wasn't able to put the book down. But this still seems like a small step back from his previous novel, "The Night Gardener"; it's minor Pelecanos, a novelist riffing on some familiar themes. B
posted by Mike at 9:45 PM
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