Flawed But Worth A Read
Theodore Dreiser's 1925 novel, "An American Tragedy," is widely considered to be one of the "worst written great novels in the world."
Why am I telling you this in a review of Lawrence Thackston's 2017 novel, "Carolina Cruel"? Because many years from now, critics will be saying that "Carolina Cruel" was a not particularly well-written mystery that managed to captivate its audience anyway.
And those critics will be right. Despite its stock characters (the "wise black woman", brusque newspaper editor, outlaw biker, and Southern racists all make appearances), crime story cliches, on-the-nose dialogue, and one plot twist too many, this book managed to keep me guessing all the way up to the last page. Part of the reason why this book was able to maintain my interest despite its many flaws was due to its complicated plot. Cutting back and forth between the early 1960's, the late 1970's, and 2016, Carolina Cruel ties together the murderous rampage of Henry Brooks, a psychotic farmer, the Orangeburg Massacre, a 1968 student protest that turned deadly, and the unsolved slayings of seven black men and two law enforcement officials in 1976 into a seemless detective story with a genuinely shocking ending.
The book opens with two hunters finding an old cop car covered in kudzu vines--and filled with bodies. Two of the bodies belong to a sheriff and his deputy who both went missing in 1976.
In 2016, Tindal Huddleston, a "big city reporter" eager to write a book about the forty-year-old cold case, recruits Chan Adams, a washed-up veteran reporter of the local paper, to help her uncover fresh leads in a case. While the two make sense of all the confusing information that they have, Chan begins to confront the long-buried pain of a personal tragedy, a tragedy inextricably linked to the mystery he and Tindal are trying to solve. What they uncover has the potential to rock a small Southern town to its foundation and to cause a scandal that reaches to the upper levels of Southern society.
Thackston tries to overlay the narrative with an analysis of race and class but it rings hollow due to the fact that the story is told almost exclusively from the perspective of white men; "Carolina Cruel" resorts more to telling than showing. And those characters all too often fell into "but we're not all racist" dialogue with each other. And I never had the feeling that I was reading about a small Southern town in the 1970's because Thackston failed to insert telling period details and to capture the unique rhythms of small town Southern life.
All told, "Carolina Cruel" was an enjoyable read, a slim volume that would be appropriate beach-reading material. However, anyone who is looking for something more emotionally affecting should read another novel.