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A review by chickenx1000
The Coyotes of Carthage by Steven Wright
2.0
2.5
Fulfilling prompt 7 of the 52 Book Club Challenge: "An author with only 1 published book".
Political thrillers are notoriously hard to make. Or perhaps I should say: I am notoriously picky about political thrillers. And maybe it's just because I'm bitter I don't live in one.
The premise is stellar: a political thriller that puts a complicated Black character front and centre and pairs him with an unlikely sidekick, deals with Big Corp corruption, and sets its scene in rural Appalachia. In recent years, political thrillers had a bit of a primetime moment: Designated Survivor, Bodyguard, House of Cards (pre-scandal), Scandal (the only one I can think of with a Black lead) and, to a certain extent, Billions, were, each at a time, a topic of the hour. Our fascination with the political underbelly, I think, is similar to our fascination with the upper crust: we want to believe our social betters are indeed better. We also like to see them fuck up.
In political thrillers, heroes are smart, polished, savvy. When I started in government/public relations, I tried so very hard to emulate the stone-cold swagger. I sweat in polyester suits that were pale imitations of what I saw on the screen. I spent money on gels, mousses and sprays that never worked with my hair. I practiced not-smiling-in-an-attractive-way that I hoped said, "I know what I'm doing, I'm focused, I'm unflappable," and not "I'm angry at how itchy polyester is, and I am sleep deprived." (In the end, I landed a job at a small non-profit, which it turns out is nowhere nearly as cutthroat and conspicuously glamorous).
The bad guys are just as smart, polished, and savvy, but they're, well, bad. They are greedy, whereas the hero is merely ambitious. They are arrogant, where the hero is confident. They are philandering little pervs where our heroes can't help but be so cool everyone naturally wants to sleep with them. But mostly, it comes down to the Cause. The bad guys, you see, pick the wrong Cause.
All this considered, Steven Wright makes a bold choice for his protagonist. Toussaint Andre "Dre" Ross is a former felon, an alcoholic, and a bitter, cynical man. He does, however, wear really nice suits that are not polyester and is smart and good at his job. (Until he isn't, that's how the story begins). Despite his shortcomings, he is loyal to his boss and mentor, if not his principles.
Many reviewers named Ross's character flaws as their main problem with the book. My first thought, not to make sweeping judgements, was that audiences would have been more lenient towards a man of European ancestry. After all, politics - especially when fictional - are a dirty game, and our hero can't be a wide-eyed idealist unless the point of the story is to shatter his illusions and transform him into the thick-skinned bastard hero of another story (see Ryan Gosling's character in The Ides of March).
Unfortunately, the tone gets rather heavy While Dre's character is interesting, he gets no redemption story and no growth. Worst, his miserable cynicism is justified by the rest of the book.
Nobody seems worthy of fate. Women are either hysterical or shrewd, firmly camped in the proverbial 'Madonna' and 'whore' camps (even praise of a successful businesswoman include - as part of the praise - the fact that she was a devoted wife to two husbands, and mothered many children). Men are irrevocably stupid or also shrewd (equality!) and misogynistic. American Southerners are simple, American Northerners are heartless. Poor people are trashy, wealthy people are scornful. Black and white, everyone's a con.
Brandon, the golden-retriever like unlikely sidekick, gets to play the sacrificial lamb and has his hopes and dreams shattered. His character is so archetypal (and even cliché) that it isn't exactly surprising, so to really drive home the point of how miserable life is.
The story has a lot of potential (perhaps due to my own personal interests), but the nihilism and cynicism of this story, lacking convincing characters, makes it hard to get through. It makes attempts at emotionality that come close, but that remain too surface-level. It flows well, however, with a good pace and appropriate conciseness for such a breakneck narrative.
Fulfilling prompt 7 of the 52 Book Club Challenge: "An author with only 1 published book".
Political thrillers are notoriously hard to make. Or perhaps I should say: I am notoriously picky about political thrillers. And maybe it's just because I'm bitter I don't live in one.
The premise is stellar: a political thriller that puts a complicated Black character front and centre and pairs him with an unlikely sidekick, deals with Big Corp corruption, and sets its scene in rural Appalachia. In recent years, political thrillers had a bit of a primetime moment: Designated Survivor, Bodyguard, House of Cards (pre-scandal), Scandal (the only one I can think of with a Black lead) and, to a certain extent, Billions, were, each at a time, a topic of the hour. Our fascination with the political underbelly, I think, is similar to our fascination with the upper crust: we want to believe our social betters are indeed better. We also like to see them fuck up.
In political thrillers, heroes are smart, polished, savvy. When I started in government/public relations, I tried so very hard to emulate the stone-cold swagger. I sweat in polyester suits that were pale imitations of what I saw on the screen. I spent money on gels, mousses and sprays that never worked with my hair. I practiced not-smiling-in-an-attractive-way that I hoped said, "I know what I'm doing, I'm focused, I'm unflappable," and not "I'm angry at how itchy polyester is, and I am sleep deprived." (In the end, I landed a job at a small non-profit, which it turns out is nowhere nearly as cutthroat and conspicuously glamorous).
The bad guys are just as smart, polished, and savvy, but they're, well, bad. They are greedy, whereas the hero is merely ambitious. They are arrogant, where the hero is confident. They are philandering little pervs where our heroes can't help but be so cool everyone naturally wants to sleep with them. But mostly, it comes down to the Cause. The bad guys, you see, pick the wrong Cause.
All this considered, Steven Wright makes a bold choice for his protagonist. Toussaint Andre "Dre" Ross is a former felon, an alcoholic, and a bitter, cynical man. He does, however, wear really nice suits that are not polyester and is smart and good at his job. (Until he isn't, that's how the story begins). Despite his shortcomings, he is loyal to his boss and mentor, if not his principles.
Many reviewers named Ross's character flaws as their main problem with the book. My first thought, not to make sweeping judgements, was that audiences would have been more lenient towards a man of European ancestry. After all, politics - especially when fictional - are a dirty game, and our hero can't be a wide-eyed idealist unless the point of the story is to shatter his illusions and transform him into the thick-skinned bastard hero of another story (see Ryan Gosling's character in The Ides of March).
Unfortunately, the tone gets rather heavy While Dre's character is interesting, he gets no redemption story and no growth. Worst, his miserable cynicism is justified by the rest of the book.
Nobody seems worthy of fate. Women are either hysterical or shrewd, firmly camped in the proverbial 'Madonna' and 'whore' camps (even praise of a successful businesswoman include - as part of the praise - the fact that she was a devoted wife to two husbands, and mothered many children). Men are irrevocably stupid or also shrewd (equality!) and misogynistic. American Southerners are simple, American Northerners are heartless. Poor people are trashy, wealthy people are scornful. Black and white, everyone's a con.
Brandon, the golden-retriever like unlikely sidekick, gets to play the sacrificial lamb and has his hopes and dreams shattered. His character is so archetypal (and even cliché) that it isn't exactly surprising, so to really drive home the point of how miserable life is
Spoiler
not only are his dreams shattered, but he can take down whatever is left of Dre's joy with him by breaking his heart. To be fair, other people do attempt to befriend Andre and he steadfastly rebuffs them all. Even after Brendon's departure.The story has a lot of potential (perhaps due to my own personal interests), but the nihilism and cynicism of this story, lacking convincing characters, makes it hard to get through. It makes attempts at emotionality that come close, but that remain too surface-level. It flows well, however, with a good pace and appropriate conciseness for such a breakneck narrative.