The Blight Way, by Patrick F. McManus


“It’s so beautiful,” she said, peering out at the valley.

“Yeah, Idaho is a beautiful state. But Blight County itself is a corrupt little place.”

“Corrupt?”

“Only in the good sense. Most of the politicians can be bought, but they don’t charge much. Even the poor can afford a politician or two. It’s very democratic that way.”

People have been telling me for years I have to read some Patrick F. McManus, and I see now what they mean. Judging by The Blight Way, the first book in the series, McManus’ Sheriff Bo Tully is a welcome departure in the world of mysteries and police procedurals. Here’s a book that doesn’t take itself too seriously.

When Sheriff Bo is called out to view a dead body, hanging over a ranch fence and dead of a couple of bullet wounds, his first suspicion is against the outlaw Scragg family, on whose land the corpse was found. But why would they call the police on their own murder? Shortly thereafter, a shot-up Jeep is discovered not far away, with three dead bodies in it. Bo’s going to find out what happened, and he’ll do it the Blight County way, which means a lot of cunning and a minimum of pesky legalities. He has his crotchety old father, a former sheriff himself, to help out, and there’s a pretty new medical examiner for him to romance – he’s already romanced most of the single women in the county, without a lot of success.

The Blight Way is refreshingly free of some character elements I’ve gotten tired of (as I’ve told you more than once) recently in mystery stories. Bo Tully is a widower, having lost a wife he loved deeply. He was raised by a single mother, and never even knew who his father was until he was nine. That could be the background for one of those grim, damaged detectives we see so often in contemporary mysteries. But Bo is optimistic and self-confident. He has a good time dating, even if he strikes out a lot, and he has an amusing, cross-talk relationship with “Pap,” his reprobate old man. He’s surrounded by a colorful cast of citizens, most of them more or less involved in criminality, and he generally enjoys riding herd on them. Most of them don’t hold grudges, on either side.

The Blight Way was a fun read. Mild cautions for the usual things, but I don’t think many of you will be much offended by anything here.

The Ghosts of Belfast, by Stuart Neville

That Stuart Neville has produced a moving, arresting, and troubling novel in The Ghosts of Belfast is notable. That this was his debut novel is amazing. Any number of writers would be happy to produce a work of this quality at the end of a long career.

Gerry Fegan is a former IRA hit man, legendary in his home city of Belfast. Since the Troubles died down, he’s been living a quiet life, drawing a salary (of which he spends little) for a government job which involves no duties. He actually spends most of his time drinking, because he needs to be drunk to sleep. His constant companions are twelve ghosts – people he murdered whose voices scream in his head. At last he realizes that they want something from him – they want him to kill the men who ordered their murders, as well as a couple of his accomplices. So he begins that business. The chapters in The Ghosts of Belfast are numbered in reverse, starting with Twelve, counting down as he carries out the ghosts’ commands and they vanish, one by one or in small groups.

At the funeral of his first victim he meets the victim’s sister, a pariah among the Irish Republicans because she married a Protestant, who has since abandoned her and her daughter. Gerry becomes their protector, gradually opening his heart as he touches, for the first time since childhood, the normal relationships of decent people. But his presence puts them in greater danger, and finally they all have to go on the run. Can Gerry protect them while finishing his mission? Should he finish it at all?

The Ghosts of Belfast is more than a thriller, it’s an examination of the complicated tissue of alliances, betrayals, and self-interests that make Northern Irish society and politics so complicated, cynical, and dangerous. It’s worth noting that a professional killer carrying out a vendetta is the most admirable male character in the book. Yet there’s sweetness here too, a sensitive appreciation of life and goodness made more vivid by contrast.

Christianity doesn’t come off very well, if I understand what I read correctly, though there’s no polemicizing against it. At one point Gerry specifically rejects the idea that he needs forgiveness, thinking rather that he needs “something else,” which the reader is left to guess.

I found The Ghosts of Belfast utterly engrossing and deeply moving. Recommended for those who can handle strong meat. Cautions for language, violence, and adult themes.

Interview at Evangelical Outpost

Visitors to the Evangelical Outpost website experienced, today, the horror of being greeted by my face. David Nilsen, who reviewed Troll Valley yesterday, followed up with an interview, which you can read here.

Troll Valley reviewed at Evangelical Outpost

And in all our excitement over Hailstone Mountain, let’s not forget Troll Valley. David Nilsen posted a flattering review today at Evangelical Outpost.

Part of that is due to Walker’s writing ability. He spends a good chunk of the first third of the book describing life and work on a farm in Minnesota, including extended passages just describing food, without ever losing the reader’s interest. Walker also has the fascinating ability to be witty, even humorous, while dealing with the darker aspects of life and the human condition.

Much appreciated.

I did not see that coming

I don’t think it would be right to say that my column on Christian Fantasy for The Intercollegiate Review, posted yesterday, has gone viral. But it seems to be approaching the communicable disease level anyway. Editor Anthony Sacramone tells me it’s rapidly approaching their record for hits. There’ve been several links, including…

Our friend Gene Edward Veith over at Cranach calls it “beyond excellent.”

David Mills at First Things speaks of “good advice” and “interesting insights.”

And, most amazing of all, Jeffrey Overstreet himself devotes quite a long post to it, calling me a “formidable storyteller,” which is kind of like having your singing praised by Placido Domingo. Although he’s visited our blog in the past and responded to some of my comments on his works, I’m surprised that a guy with so much more important things to think about was even aware of my work. He disagrees with my use of the term “Christian fantasy,” a point I appreciate, but I don’t think there’s much to be done about it.

Anyway, thanks to everyone who’s spread the word. I did not expect a response of this kind. Frankly (as I confessed to Anthony) I was a little embarrassed to submit the thing, because it seemed to me a lot of conventional wisdom that had been dispensed just as well by better writers.

But sometimes you’re in the right place at the right time, like the merchant in Hailstone Mountain who brought a cat to a country full of mice.

Certified Copy

My wife and I watched Certified Copy, a beautiful film by Abbas Kiarostami with Juliette Binoche, William Shimell, last week. It’s such a rich, moving film I wanted to write about it. All you need to know about the plot is that an English author on a book tour in Italy meets a French woman, both of them art lovers, and they spend the day in a neighboring village. All the tension I enjoyed in this story came from my knowing no more than that. What follows will be my attempt to talk about this film without spoiling any enjoyment for those who have yet to see it.

The first quarter or so of the dialogue is dominated by the ideas of originality and copies. What makes an original work of art uniquely superior to an excellently made replica? What is genuine? What is false? Is there a purpose in a composition or statue that the original fulfills but the copy does not? The two look briefly at a painting that was thought to be original, but discovered to be a recent copy of much older work. She is fascinated by it and hopes he will be too, because it fits the subject of his book, which is also called Certified Copy, but he isn’t. He tries to keep his distance from art, he says. It can be dangerous. I have to wonder if he keeps this distance because he is uncomfortable with that which is truly genuine, beautiful or hopeful.

The Englishman, James Miller, brings up another idea early on, that humanity’s purpose is pleasure. People should be free to do their own thing. The woman counters by saying people have responsibilities, such as family, that need tending, and she tends her own family with a bit of irritation. At one point, he continues talking about this need for living one’s own life while she is on the phone with her son, who can’t find something. She calls her son an idiot for not looking where she is telling him to look. He’ll find it if he’ll listen to her. Though they are not talking to each other, she and James are talking about the same thing. He is looking for self-fulfillment; she is telling him she knows where to find it.

She seems to tell him again indirectly in a scene in which she disappears into a church for a few minutes. He looks in at the door and believes he sees her praying. When he asks her about it, she shrugs it off saying she was doing something else, but the church setting must be significant. She is a figure of hope, a call for self-sacrifice, and she draws him to the church (which seems to either interest or trouble him; it’s hard to tell). In the same space, an elderly couple, probably married for 50 years or more, inches across the courtyard from the church door to an inn door. They are a picture of the love and faithfulness James wants know but believes does not exist.

Now, having thought this far, I think I’ll have to turn on the spoiler alert. Sorry. Continue reading Certified Copy

View the Review

A reader told me today that a bookseller had told her that the TV series Vikings was based on my novel West Oversea.

I hadn’t heard about this, but if I’ve got money coming, I hereby retract all my hard words and declare that Vikings is the greatest depiction of the Viking Age ever depicted. (I think the episode where the de-Pict Scotland is yet to be aired.)

Today my essay on Christian Fantasy, entitled The Christian Fantasy, appears at The Intercollegiate Review‘s web page. Thanks to Anthony Sacramone for the invitation.

I think that gives you enough to read this evening.