In the middle of a cyclone, beautiful, red-haired Sunset Jones shoots her husband Pete dead when he tries to beat and rape her. To Camp Rapture’s general consternation, Sunset’s mother-in-law arranges for her to take over from Pete as town constable. As if that weren’t hard enough to swallow in depression era east Texas, Sunset actually takes the job seriously, and her investigation into a brutal double murder pulls her into a maelstrom of greed, corruption, and unspeakable malice. It is a case that will require a well of inner strength she never knew she had. Spirited and electrifying, Sunset and Sawdust is a mystery and a tale like nothing you’ve read before.
Champion Mojo Storyteller Joe R. Lansdale is the author of over forty novels and numerous short stories. His work has appeared in national anthologies, magazines, and collections, as well as numerous foreign publications. He has written for comics, television, film, newspapers, and Internet sites. His work has been collected in more than two dozen short-story collections, and he has edited or co-edited over a dozen anthologies. He has received the Edgar Award, eight Bram Stoker Awards, the Horror Writers Association Lifetime Achievement Award, the British Fantasy Award, the Grinzani Cavour Prize for Literature, the Herodotus Historical Fiction Award, the Inkpot Award for Contributions to Science Fiction and Fantasy, and many others. His novella Bubba Ho-Tep was adapted to film by Don Coscarelli, starring Bruce Campbell and Ossie Davis. His story "Incident On and Off a Mountain Road" was adapted to film for Showtime's "Masters of Horror," and he adapted his short story "Christmas with the Dead" to film hisownself. The film adaptation of his novel Cold in July was nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, and the Sundance Channel has adapted his Hap & Leonard novels for television.
He is currently co-producing several films, among them The Bottoms, based on his Edgar Award-winning novel, with Bill Paxton and Brad Wyman, and The Drive-In, with Greg Nicotero. He is Writer In Residence at Stephen F. Austin State University, and is the founder of the martial arts system Shen Chuan: Martial Science and its affiliate, Shen Chuan Family System. He is a member of both the United States and International Martial Arts Halls of Fame. He lives in Nacogdoches, Texas with his wife, dog, and two cats.
Ancora e sempre East Texas, un paesaggio che più diverso dal West Texas non si potrebbe: come se la natura volesse marcare la differenza tra due mondi che l’uomo ha invece unificato in un unico stato. Ancora anni Trenta, durante la Grande Depressione. Epoca degli hobo. Credo che l’anno esatto sia il 1934. Ancora un paesello, poco più di un borgo, dove area urbana e campagna si intrecciano mischiano e confondono. I nomi sono veri o inventati, non saprei: uno dei due qui si chiama Camp Rapture, ma non mi pare abbia nulla del ‘rapimento estatico’ (peraltro, già incrociato in un altro romanzo di JL). Il progresso avanza: il paesello sopravvive sull’attività di una segheria (da cui sawdust del titolo che è segatura più che polvere). Ma quello accanto ha scoperto il petrolio, si scavano pozzi, si organizza un festival ad hoc. E le due entità pensano di fondersi in una, eleggere un unico sindaco e un unico corpo di polizia.
La copertina, che nonostante l’elaborazione grafica di Riccardo Falcinelli, a me sembra particolarmente brutta.
Lansdale anche qui spezza varie lance a favore dell’integrazione razziale, e contro l’esclusione, la segregazione, la sopraffazione, il razzismo dei bianchi verso i neri. Ne spezza diverse, altrettanto lunghe e robuste, a favore della parità dei sessi: al punto che lo sceriffo protagonista è una giovane donna dai capelli rosso fuoco, da cui deriva il soprannome di Sunset, rossa come quei tramonti infuocati. Al punto che Sunset per difendersi da un tentato stupro condito di botte a go go ha ucciso suo marito. Che era lo sceriffo del luogo. E prende il suo posto, assume le sue funzioni di difensore della legge.
Il racconto comincia con una tromba d’aria, che è un tornado, che è un uragano. Spazza via case alberi e automobili. Si trasforma in un’invasione di cavallette, e il riferimento biblico non è nascosto. E forse per questa violenza dell’incipit, per questa partenza già in quinta marcia (o sesta o settima), Lansdale confeziona un romanzo che presenta meno sfumature, con personaggi meno sfaccettati, più stereotipati, buoni i buoni, cattivi i cattivi – e uno solo a fare da tramite. Si ride, ci si diverte, si legge che è un piacere. Tutte qualità a cui Lansdale mi ha ormai abituato (romanzo numero sette in pochi mesi, inutile negare che sembro aver contratto una certa qual dipendenza, per fortuna non credo tossica). Invece a una mano più grossolana ed eccessiva ancora no.
A tornado comes through east Texas. At that very moment in time Sunset Jones is fed up with her cheating husband beating and raping her. She takes his .38 and puts it to his temple and blows him away.
She turns to her in-laws as she has no family. Surprise is that her mother-in-law takes her side and makes sure she is appointed constable in place of the now gone husband.
Most of the men in town and even some of the women don't like the fact that there is a woman constable. (The book is set during the Depression years). Sunset seems to be getting along too well with the black population of town also. Once appointed Sunset sets out to actually do the job, assisted by a love-sick local man and a smooth talking hobo that just blew into town, the book does get gritty and violent at times.
The ending of this one got my cold little heart a bit more than normal as I grew to really like Sunset and her motley crew that she seemed to pick up as she went along. Plus, this book is another case of a male writer writing about strong women that blows away some of the Mary-Sue's everyone has gotten used too.
I've become quite a fan of Lansdale's books over the past few years. This - the one that introduced me to his work - remains the funniest and most entertaining I've read to date.
Another great read from Mr Lansdale, aka Mr Consistent, aka Mr Imagination-For-Days, aka Mr Storybook, aka Mr Here's-Another-One, aka Mr Boy-Can-He-Write-'Em, etc....and I can't wait to crack open the next!!
I read a few Lansdale novels before this, and while I liked them, I had a hard time trying to figure out why the guy possesses such a huge fan base. Well, Sunset and Sawdust helped with that problem! Such a fun, clever tale here, laced with sardonic and occasionally caustic wit, which builds suspense and tension from page one.
Out titular Sunset, nicknamed due to the color of her fiery red hair, starts the novel getting beaten and raped by her no-good husband, the local law in Camp Rapture, while a tornado batters their house. Having had just about enough, she finds his gun and plugs him in the head. While no Mary Sue by any means, Sunset still emerges as a tough, no-nonsense gal, especially given the setting in Depression era East Texas. The next day Sunset finds her way to her mother-in-laws place, where her daughter had spent the night. Amazingly enough, her step-mom takes in stride (after some hysterics) as she knew her husband, her son, had a nasty way with women in general. Like father, like son she supposes, and that very night she beats her husband and throws him out of the house at the end of a shotgun.
Sunset's step-mom owns most of the saw mill that really is the only reason for the town to exist, and after some machinations, manages to get Sunset 'elected' constable-- the same position of her late son. Meanwhile, we follow a guy named Hillbilly as he makes his way to Rapture in a boxcar on a train. Hillbilly sure is pretty, and knows how to speak to the ladies, but we know off the bat he is also one mean sonofabitch. Hillbilly had just started working at the sawmill when Sunset got the constable nod, and he, along with Clyde, an old hand there, become Sunset's assistants. Now, if they only had some crime to deal with! (Be careful what you wish for!!)
I loved the adages and aphorisms lacing the text, and you can almost hear the Texas twang in the dialogue. Lansdale does not shy away from the awful race relations in town, and in fact these play a major role in the story (as do the local prejudices held by many whites there, who like to go 'aklaning' when the local black folk get to uppity). Sunset, not really bereft at the killing her husband, just wants to get by and have a future with her teenage daughter. The thought that a woman represents the law does not sit well with the local bigots, especially as she also treats black folks with respect ('gotta be a nigger lover'...). Still, she soldiers on and yeah, things get ugly pretty fast.
Overall, a smart, fun read. While the mystery aspect may not win any awards (we pretty much knew what the score was pretty early), the rough but 'oh so human' characters and the dialogue really moved this up a notch into the 'really good' category. NOW I know why people dig Lansdale so much! 4.5 Texas stars!
I've always found Joe R Lansdale's Hap & Leonard stories highly enjoyable, with their mixture of humour & great dialogue. This stand alone novel, set in 1930's Texas, isn't quite as good as that series but it's still pretty entertaining. There are some pretty violent scences, but that's no surprise to readers familiar with Lansdale's other work. His characters are as well drawn as ever, but the novel seems to lose itself midway before it returns with the energy of the first half.
Joe R. Lansdale entpuppt sich mehr und mehr als einer der führenden gegenwärtigen Noir-Autoren Amerikas.
Hier, in dem 2004 erschienen Roman KAHLSCHLAG (im Original SUNSET AND SAWDUST), entführt er den Leser - wie eigentlich fast immer in seinen Werken - in das östliche Texas, kurz vor der Grenze zu Louisiana. Hier spürt man den Hauch des Südens, der Westen ist noch ein paar Meilen entfernt. Und auch wenn das restliche Texas sicherlich kein Hort des Friedens und der Bürgerechte ist, Osttexas ist in Lansdales Erzählung immer noch etwas rauer, etwas rassistischer, etwas verkommener.
Es ist die Zeit der Depression, Arbeit ist rar, die Menschen sind arm und Armut macht gierig. Die rothaarige Sunset erschießt Pete, ihren Gatten, als der versucht, sie zu vergewaltigen. Sie stellt sich ihren Schwiegereltern. Marilyn, ihre Schwiegermutter, zürnt ihr zwar, folgt dann jedoch dem Beispiel und verprügelt ihren ewig schlecht gelaunten Mann, Jones. Dieser bringt sich daraufhin spektakulär um. Pete war Constable in dem Kaff, in dem sie alle leben, den Job übernimmt nun Sunset.
Und mit Sunset in dieser Rolle, die in Osttexas wie im ganzen Süden grundsätzlich immer einem Mann zustünde, ändert sich doch einiges gewaltig im Ort. Nicht nur geht sie Betrügereien nach, die Weiße an Schwarzen begehen, nein, sie ist auch noch bereit, es mit den örtlichen Schwergewichten aufzunehmen und deren dreckigen Geschäften und Mordtaten auf den Grund zu gehen. So entsteht eine Phalanx aus Frauen, Dropouts, Flüchtigen und vor allem Schwarzen, die sich gegenseitig stützen, helfen und - leider - auch füreinander sterben, wenn es am Ende des Buches - mitten in einer apokalyptischen Heuschreckenplage, die das Land überzieht und kahl zurück lassen wird - zu einem allerdings wirklich blutigen Showdown kommt.
Lansdale erzählt das alles bewußt einfach. Sein Sätze sind Hauptsätze mit seltenen Einschüben, er nutzt den Dialog zur Charakterisierung seines Personals und dieses entstammt den einfacheren Bevölkerungsschichten. Hier sprechen die Menschen direkt, sagen sich, was sie voneinader halten und wollen und so bleibt nie lange unter Verschluß, wer wonach strebt. Das Ganze erhält so nicht nur einen (im Original sicher sehr viel stärkeren) Anstrich der Authentizität, sondern auch das Flair eines Märchens.
Schwarze Rächer, schwarze Reiche, eine Frau als Gesetezshüterin, Familienzusammenführungen auf texanisch und das Glück des Tüchtigen, wenn es ans Töten geht und ein Haufen Freiwilliger, die praktisch noch nie geschossen haben, plötzlich einem teuflisch bösen Duo (bzw. Trio - einer der Teufel ist schizophren und heißt auch gleich mal "Two") gegenübersteht, welches Töten nicht nur gelernt hat, sondern es sowohl als Freude als auch unbedingt als nötig betrachtet - all dies sind Zutaten, die ganz sicherlich dem Wunsch entprechen, bestimmten Minderheiten und Unterdrückten literarisch Gerechtigkeit widerfahen zu lassen, realistisch sind sie nicht.
Und Lansdale will es auch sicherlich nicht realistisch, was die Story angeht, die im Übrigen auch eher dünn daherkommt. Das Milieu, das er schildert, die Verkommenheit einiger Menschen, die fast alltägliche Gewalt, die hier herrscht, oder der extrem rassistische Umgang mit der schwarzen Bevölkerung - es sind diese Tatsachen, die Lansdale so deutlich und realistisch wie möglich schildert. Er nimmt sich die Freiheit, all dem Elend dann eben eine Handlung entgegen zu stellen, die so kaum je passiert sein dürfte oder hätte passieren können (zu befürchten steht, daß eine Frau wie Sunset in den 20er oder 30er Jahren wohl ein äußerst übles Schicksal ereilt hätte). Und doch bleibt er auch hier im Rahmen einer glaubwürdigen Erzählung, denn wenn alles vorbei ist, bleiben lauter beschädigte Menschen übrig, und einige ihrer Freunde sind tot. Kahle Landschaften, nachdem die Heuschrecken weitergezogen sind, entsprechen kahlen emotionalen Gebieten. Nachdem der Pulverrauch der Waffen sich verzogen hat, bleibt - Schmerz.
Joe R. Lansdale wird in Deutschland, so scheint es, erst nach und nach entdeckt. Man kann ihn nur empfehlen, gelingt es ihm doch, sich mit seinem Stil einigen der ganz, ganz Großen der amerikanischen Südstaatenliteratur anzunähern.
The Great Depression, East Texas, Cyclones, wife-beating raping husband, dead wife-beating raping husband by page two, abused woman who shoots wife-beating raping husband becomes constable by page ten, white population is outraged, black population is amused, corrupt politicians, racism, sexism, dead baby in bottle, snake bites, locust plagues, big bad thugs, one big bad thug with multiple personality disorder, lots of fistfights, shootings and general mayhem... with jokes.
In other words, another typical Joe R. Lansdale mystery. Gotta love it.
Ugh this was mostly awful. Horrible people doing horrible things. He’s like a male Colleen Hoover. Ick. Story was complex though and writing good so two point five stars.
La Sunset del titolo ha una bellissima chioma rossa, come un tramonto di fuoco. Durante un tentativo di stupro da parte del marito, Pete, sceriffo del villaggio in cui vivono nel Texas degli anni '30, reagisce piantandogli una pallottola in testa rispedendolo al Creatore. Un gesto istintivo che mette la parola fine ai comportamenti brutali dell'uomo nei suoi confronti. Un punto di non ritorno, una brusca sterzata per raddrizzare una vita gestita male. Sunset diventerà il nuovo sceriffo, e...
La parte iniziale ricorda vagamente Luce di Agosto di Faulkner, per poi (peccato) abbandonare quasi subito quell'incombente senso di tragicità, proseguendo verso una storia che in fondo è un noir nei panni di un western, un po' modernizzato in alcuni dialoghi (non so nella versione originale) che riportano più all'oggi che a quel contesto storico (ancora peccato).
Appiccicato addosso alla gente che popola queste pagine - non poteva essere diversamente, visto il periodo e il luogo -, troviamo il razzismo contro le donne e la gente di colore, soprattutto la gente di colore, che funge da deterrente per le macchinazioni dietro le quinte che piano piano emergono seguendo le gesta di Sunset e dei suoi fidi(?) compari.
Piacevole, ma non può essere (come ho letto in giro) il 'capolavoro' di Lansdale. No, quello devo ancora leggerlo.
With two attempted rapes, three self-defense killings, and a tornado by page 20, I wasn't really expecting this book to be funny.....but I was wrong. Joe R. Lansdale kept piling on the lamentations in biblical proportions, and I enjoyed every page. J.R.L. wages heavy justice.
"On the afternoon it rained frogs, sun perch, and minnows, Sunset discovered she could take a beating good as Three-Fingered Jack. Unlike Jack, who had taken his in the sunshine, she took hers in her own home at the tail end of a cyclone, the windows rattling, the roof lifting, the hardwood floor cold as stone."
Lansdale tends to begin his stories like a shovel to the head, thrusting the reader into a whirlwind of chaos.
Like many of Lansdale’s works, Sunset and Sawdust takes place in Depression-era Texas. Pete Jones, the local constable, likes to manipulate, shame, beat and rape his wife. When Sunset Jones has finally had enough of his vile behavior, it's during the midst of a cyclone after having been severely beaten and raped. Fearing that this may be the end, she blows his head off with his own .38 revolver, right before the storm hits their house.
Unsure where else to go, she sets off for her in-laws house, where her 14-year-old daughter Karen is. Draped in nothing but a curtain, she meets Uncle Riley and his son Tommy who have been collecting fish after the cyclone in their wagon. Uncle Riley is a black man and is afraid of what people may think if they see him with the nearly-naked red-haired wife of the constable in his wagon, especially if they find Pete dead. However, he is incredibly kind and looks after Sunset, taking her to Marilyn Jones' house. Pete's mother is horrified that her son was killed, but not surprised. It turns out that he followed in his father's footsteps of abuse. For Karen, it's a complicated matter, of course. She loved her father, but that's because he was a good dad.. but a horrible husband. Karen had no idea what was going on between her parents.
The small sawmill town of Camp Rapture is turned upside down once word gets out that the constable was murdered by his wife in self-defense. He wasn't exactly a likable man, but now they are left without law enforcement. That is, until Sunset is appointed the first ever female constable with the help of her mother-in-law. She is assisted by deputies Clyde Fox and Hillbilly, who is new to town and volunteers for the position.
Her first case is a tough one -- a baby is found dead on the land of a black farmer. Sunset finds herself in deep with the mysterious case, involving con-men and Klan members and scumbag villains.
"The sun grew large and yellow as the yolk of a fresh egg, turned the air hot as a gasoline fire. The heat stuck in the woods like glue, became gummy, and the gum got all over God and creation."
Part exhilaration, part grit, part emotional turmoil. Lansdale's descriptive prose is the definition of masterfully constructed storytelling that just crackles! Dusty, grimy, sweaty atmosphere; multifaceted characters that are living, breathing and fully-realized; and a balancing act of dark humor, beneath the initial bleakness.
Although the topics are always heavy, taking on the monstrous side of human nature, I can't help but sink inside a Lansdale story with an immense level of comfort. If that's fucked up, I don't want to be otherwise!
Sunset and Sawdust is truly unforgettable, with arguably one of my favorite Lansdale characters yet!
This was a fun read and I will be looking into some more of Lansdales work. There are a ton of cliches throughout the story, but they fit the characters and the plot well enough that it doesn't seem overdone. I was mostly taken with the start of the book, a redhead named Sunset being raped by her husband during a tornado and the ensuing storm that followed the storm. It wasn't the greatest of plots and the story kind of petered out at the end, but the wit attached to the otherwise hardcore crime action made this an exciting read.
This was the best Lansdale book I've read so far. Very well-written and engaging, I miss this kind of writing. Hard, gritty, and although parts were highly improbable for the area (east Texas) and time period, it just plain works as novel. The best thing about the story telling is that nobody is spared from death or bad decision making. The "magical thinking" is kept to a minimum in favor of harsh reality.
Mah, da Landsale mi aspettavo mari e monti, e questo libro invece è stato una delusione cocente e ho odiato i dialoghi, così fuori posto e artefatti.. ☹️
Con un linguaggio colorito che poco si addice agli anni trenta della Grande Depressione americana, come i pesci sbattuti in aria dall'uragano e poi scaraventati al suolo come manna dal cielo, ci ritroviamo nel bel mezzo di una storia che sembra già iniziata, un po' come arrivare al cinema con cinque minuti di ritardo. E che storia! Si parte col botto per poi ritrovarsi un po' impantanati nella parte centrale e riprendere il ritmo con un finale serrato. Come primo approccio con l'autore posso dire di aver trovato tutto in po' eccessivo, trama, dialoghi, liguaggio e personaggi. Di certo non ci si annoia. Fra morti ammazzati, due casi di omicidio da risolvere, truffe ai danni dei neri e personaggi poco raccomandabili, non mi stupisce che alla fine si sia abbattuta su tutti loro pure la piaga delle cavallette.
Three stars' still a positive review, right? I had been debating with myself whether I should give SUNSET & SAWDUST three or four stars, but I decided to be 100% honest about it. I'm a die-hard Joe Lansdale fan, but this novel slightly disappointed me.
The execution still bears Lansdale's seal of quality. The descriptions are short, but evocative, the narration is colored by East Texas' twang and vernacular. The plot is intricate and clever. Joe Lansdale can be a pretty ideological writer at times though, as his protagonists sometimes fight for ideas and causes through the people they're pitted against and it's sometimes a dangerous game to play as your thesis can overthrow your story and I feel it partially happened in SUNSET & SAWDUST.
While there is a strong mystery keeping SUNSET & SAWDUST together, but that protagonist Sunset Jones was a bit of a one note song. Outside of a dramatic, breathtaking opening scene, she's more of an avatar of feminism and progress than a fleshed out woman of the depression era. I mean, there are only two female characters in the entire novel (not counting the daughter or the alluded Jimmie Jo) and they're both strong willed, unyielding feminist figures trapped in a world of gutless, conniving men. I have no issue with making a feminist Western, but I don't feel like it's an issue that should be addressed as some kind of overnight reversal of social roles. My main issue with SUNSET & SAWDUST was that the setting and the mystery are intricate, but that the thesis at the center of it isn't. It's actually pretty blunt and it's a pet peeve of mine.
My two favourite characters in SUNSET & SAWDUST were Clyde Fox and Hillbilly, Sunset's two employee, which I thought were the two most tormented characters. That made them interesting to me and Joe Lansdale, clever storyteller that he is, never let them stray far from the storyline. I still somewhat liked SUNSET & SAWDUST. It got on my nerves a little for being ridiculously too blunt about the issue and the era it was trying to tackle, but force is to admit that Joe Lansdale can write an era novel like nobody's business. While my relationship to SUNSET & SAWDUST was a little more adversarial than to other Lansdale novels, it didn't damage my admiration for the author at all.
Il mio primo incontro con Lansdale è stato un cocktail ben miscelato e dal sapore inaspettato. Un nuovo sceriffo donna pel di carota, un menestrello playboy, un ex prete che picchia forte, un delinquente col parrucchino e una discutibile passione per i grembiuli da donnina, prostitute, pistolettate, un nero dalla doppia personalità che ama succhiare l'anima alle sue vittime in stile dissennatore, ma con giacca e bombetta e una fiumana di locuste fuori di testa da far felice Terence Malick. Contro ogni pronostico, mi sono divertito. Chi se lo sarebbe aspettato, io che preferirei un clistere di olio caldo piuttosto che guardare un film di Bud Spencer o di Steven Seagal. Bravo, Lansdale! Ci rivedremo presto.
Wanted to like this since the main character is a redhead, but even that couldn't save it for me. I couldn't finish it actually. Had to put it back on the shelf where it will anxiously await its trip back to the used book store. The author made his characters way too cutesy and sweet and buddy-buddy-nudge-nudge-wink-wink ain't we a trio of rambling rascals! Just couldn't deal with that. I can't deal with an author who so desperately wants to make his characters "likable" in any situation, but given the era this one is set in, it's especially hard to put up with. Too many "ah shucks" moments and "I got your back for no good reason other than it'll probably make my milk-toast audience fall in love with me".
Sono un po' delusa, lo ammetto. Dopo un inizio col botto si perde un po' per la strada trasformandosi in un poliziesco nella media. C'è di peggio, ma sicuramente c'è anche di meglio.
Joe Lansdale writes some weird stuff. Consider “Bubba Ho-Tep,” a novella about a dying Elvis impersonator living in a nursing home, a black man who believes he’s JFK in hiding from the government, and a mummy who’s stealing the souls of the nursing home residents.
Yeah.
Sunset and Sawdust is a more mainstream novel for Lansdale, set in 1930s Texas, but it’s not without the normal Lansdale weirdness. Sunset, the main character, so named because of her long, fiery-red hair, has just shot her husband because she’s had enough of him beating her up and raping her. When she goes to her mother-in-law for help, she finds not a woman distressed at the loss of her son, but a sympathetic woman who gives her the position of Constable at Camp Rapture, the local sawmill. Aside from her bring a woman constable in Depression-era Texas, she raises even more controversy because the constable she replaced was Pete, the husband she shot.
A lot happens in this brief novel, but Lansdale pulls it off without making it seem convoluted (an achievement all by itself) or forced. At the beginning of the novel, I had an issue with how one of the characters reacted to a certain plot point, but by the end of the book, Lansdale had explained that away, and made it seem more acceptable. It was a bit jarring at first, but by the time I had finished the book and thought back on the beginning, knowing the whole story, it made perfect sense. I should have known to expect something like that, knowing that Lansdale is an accomplished writer with more than a few tricks, but it was a nice surprise. It just reaffirms my faith in him as an author.
The other great thing about Lansdale is his turns of phrase. He writes like you would expect a Texan would , and comes up with some very clever metaphors. He describes the color of a sunset as being like a razor had been slashed across the horizon, and he describes a hot, searing sun as like a blister hanging in the sky. The banter between characters is also a sort of signature of Lansdale’s, and it never gets tiring; if nothing else, it accounts for much of the humor in his stories. It’s always dry, but it never fails to get a laugh from me.
Lansdale, though, is also a brutal writer. He doesn’t hesitate to show you the darkest nature of his characters (protagonists and antagonists alike), and he won’t shy away from violence. I suppose you could best categorize his books as noir, but the East Texas settings, and the characters who live there, make his stories a category unto themselves. Noir is usually reserved for dark alleys and average men; Lansdale populates his stories with bright, sunlit areas and odd characters. Southern noir? Country noir? Who knows? It’s worth reading, though, and Sunset and Sawdust is as good a place as any to start.
“Naked, except for her shoes and the gun she was holding, she wandered off of what remained of her house, stumbled down the muddy clay road in front of her place, frogs, minnows and perch hopping and flapping beneath her shoes.”
Joe Lansdale has a reputation for "mojo storytelling," which he manages to pull off in a wide assortment of genre. Near as I can tell "mojo storytelling" means that the author works magic on us; if so, then his bag of tricks includes lots of laugh-out-loud vernicular, memorable characters and non-stop quirky action. But what makes his stuff so endearing, at least to me, is his secret ingredient -- he entwines a bit of a broad-minded liberal slant to his stories – something I never quite expect from a Texan (which I think is his point). Just look at his Hap & Leonard series, for example, where he pairs up a white heterosexual man (Hap Collins) as best friend and trouble magnet with a black homosexual man (Leonard Pine). Lansdale seems to have as good a time pointing out Leonard Pine’s reality (and thus disarming the reader’s defenses), as he does spinning the tale of whatever adventure the two friends are on. In Sunset and Sawdust, Lansdale sets the events during the Depression in East Texas; a time when a few white men were getting rich on oil and Jim Crow law was being unofficially legislated by the Ku Klux Klan. Certainly, women were supposed to know their place. Enter Sunset Jones, the heroine of this tale, the one who unexpectedly (especially to herself) sets out to straighten up a few crooked things in her sawmill town.
Deludente. Dopo un inizio scoppiettante e promettente il libro si perde in una successione, sempre scoppiettante ma del tutto deludente, di stereotipi rivisti in chiave pulp. La bella del paese, Sunset (il Tramonto del titolo) fa secco il marito (già sceriffo) con una pallottola in fronte nel mezzo di un uragano con stupro. Effettivamente l'uomo se l'è meritata, vista la violenza con cui la tratta. Sunset non solo non viene accusata dell'omicidio (di cui confessa subito la maternità), ma viene promossa dalla suocera Marylin sceriffo in pectore, con due vice, il buon Clyde ed il casanova Hillbilly. A questo punto la storia si infila in una serie di morti ammazzati in modo più o meno cruento, con tanto di pasticciaccio a base di pozzi petroliferi, neri grandi e grossi buoni come un pezzo di pane e neri psicotici con gli occhi verdi. Il povero Hillbilly si fa prima la figlia (Karen) poi la madre (Sunset), ma ahimè il redivivo padre di Sunset lo pesta come una noce in un mortaio, allora lui decide di vendicarsi e da qui parte il redde rationem. Muoiono i bianchi cattivi, i neri buoni e cattivi, rimangono solo le donne ed il buon Clyde. Fino al colpo di scena finale, del tutto inutile. Avevo letto La sottile linea scura e mi era piaciuto, questo sembra una sceneggiatura per Tarantino, ma senza alcune stile, solo con tante stille (di sangue).
Joe R Lansdale is new to me. I didn't know where to begin with his books, so I just fell into this one and rode it out to the end.
My only previous encounter with Lansdale is the movie, Bubba Ho-Tep, which was entertaining but almost completely forgettable. So I was surprised by the dialogue and the use of vernacular with pinpoint accuracy to the specific region and setting.
Having said that, there isn't much more to this book than that. A slew of Southern wit and then the book peters out. It is a completely predictable plot with some very serious holes in the narrative, but ones we can overlook because Lansdale does such a good job of dancing around those holes with lines like- "her rear rolled around like a couple of happy babies". And if you can love a book for the prose and look past plot, then pick it up and blaze through it in a few hours.
I put this book down about a half-hour ago, and I still feel like hopping around and dialing anyone who gives a shit about books. Decided this is good an outlet as any.
Man, what a story. Lansdale writes about tragedies and double-cross and race-relations during the Depression and gender biases back then and murder and justice and pain and so much else I might as well quit here and point you to the book itself. The first half does move slow, enough so that I was wary about the rest, but then I pushed on and my attitude changed by the page until I had to read it all to the end. I'm and hyped on this book and I won't touch another one until its effects fade.
Another very enjoyable novel from Lansdale full of his usual violence and wackiness. This is another of his stand alone novels published in 2004. I've read and enjoyed most of his Hap and Leonard series as well as several of his stand-alones. All have been very entertaining to say the least.
This one takes place during the 1930s in Depression-era East Texas. The main protagonist of the novel is a woman called Sunset because of her bright red hair. Her husband, Pete, the local constable, assaults and rapes Sunset who has had enough abuse so pulls Pete's gun and shoots him in the head. While this is happening, a tornado destroys their home. Battered and shaken, Sunset goes to confess her deeds to her mother-in-law, the owner of the local sawmill, who decides that Sunset was justified and decides that she should also take over as the local constable. Sunset is then thrown into an investigation of the corpse of a baby and soon thereafter a second dead body. The investigation leads to some unlawful shenanigans which involved her dead husband, some crooked city council members, and local Klansmen obsessed by greed.
This is a typical novel for Lansdale with some very eccentric characters, loads of violence, and a setting in East Texas. As in many of his novels, it also describes the inequities of the black community and how they always are taken advantage of. It does veer somewhat from the typical by being set in the 1930s but otherwise another fun ride from Lansdale.
"What I do know is you got to have a kind of center, Sunset. You follow me? You got to work out of that center, and you don’t let that center shift. You may fail it, but you don’t let it shift.”
I am a Joe Lansdale fan and have pretty much loved every book of his I've read but I did not love this one, it is definitely my least favorite to date. The story just did not work for me, while Lansdale's writing is always great this comedy/mystery thing did not do it for me. The characters are interesting as always (I loved Clyde and Bull), but the story kind of loses steam toward the middle until it picks up somewhat at the end. Entertaining at times but don't pick this one if it's your first Lansdale book, try The Thicket instead.
Osttexas, 1930er Jahre: Als Sunset wieder mal von ihrem Mann vergewaltigt wird, erschießt sie ihn - und beerbt ihn sogar als Constable. Und nimmt den Job sogar ernst. Lansdale überzeugt weitgehend mit einem derben, gewaltreichen und überraschend feministischen Südstaaten-Noir.
Lansdale delivers another fast-paced, relevant, and quirky historical thriller filled with the witty dialogue and rich characters you expect from him. Set in Depression-era East Texas, Sunset and Sawdust starts with the protagonist's murder of her husband and doesn't slow down. The titular Sunset, in the course of her investigations, discovers friendship, betrayal, family, town secrets, and truths about racism and sexism. The mysteries compound themselves, and Lansdale saves at least one big reveal for the denouement that I didn't see coming. The resolutions in the novel are mostly satisfying dramatically, though some might think the body count gets higher than necessary towards the end.
The narrative voice, though third person, affects a casual folkiness that complements the dialogue of the characters and enhances the experience of the period setting. Those easily offended by the blunt language of the common and disaffected of the 1930s in the South should steer clear of this book, but otherwise anyone with a taste for gritty, witty noir mysteries should seek it out. Lansdale's work isn't for the squeamish, either, and while the novel isn't terribly graphic, there is plenty of violence and some of it coarse.