George Pelecanos is among that group of writers whose work stretches the definitions of crime fiction toward the gated confines of Literature. Like Richard Price, Laura Lippman, John Shannon and a few others, his work handles the crime element of crime fiction in unexpected ways. Even in his brief fling with series characters, the concern was not only who did it, but why it was done and, more importantly, the lingering effects on the victims, perpetrators and their community.
But shortly after finding his voice and his stride as a novelist, Pelecanos’ work voiced another recurring concern: what it truly means — and takes — to be a man in today’s world. That may sound hackneyed, but it finds both moving and memorable expression in THE TURNAROUND.
On a hot summer afternoon in 1972, in Washington, D.C. (the center of the Pelecanos fictional universe), three male, white teens are cursing around the neighborhood. Fueled by boredom, beer, weed and no small amount of idiotic bravado, they drive into Heathrow Heights, a poor and predominately black neighborhood. There, in front of a small grocery store, they hurl racial insults at three black teens. But as they try to drive away, the white teens take a wrong turn and end up on a dead-end street — a turnaround.
One white teen runs off. The other two leave the car and are confronted by the three angry black teens, one of whom is carrying a gun.
The narrative then picks up 35 years later and takes up with the lives of those involved in what they refer to as “the incident.” Alex Pappas, who carries a drooping right eye and facial scar from the beating he suffered, has taken over the neighborhood diner founded by his father. Pete Whitten, the one who ran off, has abandoned the old neighborhood and become a successful lawyer. And the third white boy, Bill Cachoris, is dead from the gunshot.
Of the black men, only Raymond Monroe has managed to make something of his life. He works as a physical therapist at Walter Reed Hospital, assisting the recovery of those soldiers who lost arms or legs while serving in Iraq. His brother, James, served a prison sentence for the shooting and is now repairing cars for sub-minimum wage in a tiny garage. The third man, Charles Baker, has spent his life in and out of jail and is currently on parole from his latest robbery sentence.
One day, as a result of a chance sighting at the hospital, Raymond reaches out to Alex in an attempt to finally deal with the past and move on. Charles wants to reach out, too. But he has extortion on his mind when he contacts Pete for what he feels is owed to him to finally get his life back on track.
Pelecanos shifts between the lives and events of the survivors of “the incident,” as well as their various friends, workmates, wives and lovers, in a manner so effortless and skillful that you aren’t aware of how many details are presented until you stop to think about them. Another reliable feature of Pelecanos is his depiction of the period (especially the ’60s and ’70s) with dead-on references to popular music, fashion, sports and cars. Even if the song titles, shoe styles or engine and body specifications are unfamiliar, you can’t help but be swept up in the memories they evoke. And Pelecanos’ ear for and presentation of dialogue, complete with its period-specific slang and vocal inflections, is among the best of any writer today.
But if there is a nit to pick at all, it has to be the overly long, near-preaching blocks of dialogue that creep up in the novel’s last quarter, especially from Raymond and Alex. While obviously reflecting Pelecanos’ attitude, they can’t help but call attention to themselves due to their unexpected and overt emotions. A little more compressed, stoic reactions, such as what we have up to those points, would have served better.
But these few instances stick out because everything else in the novel works so damned well. Especially the way Pelecanos demonstrates how virtues and violence give opposing weight to the real measure of a man. We see, experience and ultimately learn through the behavior, decisions and consequences of Alex, Raymond, Charles and the others. And it is these experiences we take with us long after the we close the cover.
Most highly recommended, to say the least. And a fine introduction to the world and wisdom of this superb author. —Alan Cranis
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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
Good review, Alan. You touch on things I didn’t in my own review of the book, published yesterday on my blog. I particularly like this quote from your review:
“Pelecanos shifts between the lives and events of the survivors of “the incident,” as well as their various friends, workmates, wives and lovers, in a manner so effortless and skillful that you aren’t aware of how many details are presented until you stop to think about them. Another reliable feature of Pelecanos is his depiction of the period (especially the ’60s and ’70s) with dead-on references to popular music, fashion, sports and cars. Even if the song titles, shoe styles or engine and body specifications are unfamiliar, you can’t help but be swept up in the memories they evoke.”
Very good observations. I was too young to know what GP’s refers to but, like you wrote, I can certainly get wrapped up in the “memories.”
Thank you very much, Scott. Check out Pelecanos’s website when you can. He often cites sources where you can track down the music he mentions in his novels. Or if there’s a radio station in your area that plays “classic” or “old school R & B,” I’ll bet you’ll hear many of the tracks mentioned in this and Pelecanos’s previous works. Enjoy!
I enjoyed the book, too, but felt that the ending scenes were just a bit too pat. I could believe that maybe, some time in the future, all of that might happen, but for it to happen with the speed with which it does made it a bit unbelievable. Couple that with the preachiness of some of Pelecanos’ dialogue, as you mention, and this isn’t one of his better books. Still worth reading, but I liked Pelecanos’ previous book, The Night Gardener better. And his Drama City is also much more restrained in presenting the struggles of a former criminal trying to get his life back on track.
As I mentioned in my review, The Turnaround is a good Pelecanos book. By that definition, it’s better than a lot of crime fiction out there but not up to the standards of Hard Revolution, Drama City, and Soul Circus. Still, it is entertaining and I’m quite looking forward to his next piece of work: helping to write the Pacific Theater version of Band of Brothers with Steven Spielberg. Talk about men being men. In fact, one of the best lines in The Turnaround is in the 1972 section, where GP comments that WWII vets never have to have their manhood questioned.
Again, thanks for your insightful observations and comments, guys. I personally have a soft spot for Pelecanos’s earlier Derek Strage/Terry Quinn series, which includes SOUL CIRCUS and the prequel, HARD REVOLUTION. But I very much appreciate how he takes himself into different areas, as he has since DRAMA CITY and THE NIGHT GARDENER.
I don’t want to sound like I’m down on Pelecanos–very much not. He’s a “must-read” author for me. That said, it did feel a bit like with The Turnaround, he was re-covering ground he’s already covered better in other novels. I think the publisher wanted this to be a breakout book for Pelecanos, which may be the reason he’s repeating himself. Still, a less-than- perfect Pelecanos novel is better than many other working writers’ best work. I’d like to see him try something really different, perhaps a real western.
I agree with you, Craig. Truth is, I think Pelecanos’s publisher has been hoping for that breakout book since DRAMA CITY. And I also consider him a “must-read.” A western? That would be wild! And knowing Pelecanos, it would probably turn that genre on its ear. Guess we’ll have to wait and see what he has planned for his next work.