Country noir? Rural noir? It ain’t a cozy, that’s for sure: Matthew Jones’s seventh novel A Reckoning Up Black Cat Hollow has just been published and this is part one of a two-part look at this rather woefully under-the-radar master of unnervingly gritty stories. Much of the grit comes from his characters; disoriented people living a hardscrabble, backcountry lives, who some might call losers. They struggle to make some sense of their existence in an environment both unforgiving and frequently deadly.
Over the years I have reviewed three of Jones’s novels, each unforgettable in its own unique way. Below I have attempted to reproduce two of them as they appeared and one is just text off the internet, as I can’t find the original.
When I read A Reckoning Up Black Cat Hollow, several words – concepts? – kept emerging. Jones’s characters inhabit that realm of consciousness where the physical reality collides with what’s termed “hypnagogic hallucination,” or dreaming while awake. But the one word that kept reoccurring, as I surrendered myself to Jones’s latest hellscape was swirling. The protagonist in Hollow, one Jack Spinks, spends one long night swirling – both literally and otherwise, just like the reader, who wonders what transgressions are around the corner for this sad sack, emotional basket-case.
So, there is much to discuss with Matthew, and I’m looking forward to a conversation with him. And, oh boy, do I have questions!
Here are my three takes on Jones over the years.
Blind Pursuit, 1997, also from the SF Chronicle.
Matthew F. Jones’ disturbing, edgy thriller BLIND PURSUIT (Farrar, Straus & Giroux; 244 pages; $22). A pastoral suburb of Albany, N.Y., is shattered by the kidnapping of 8-year-old Jennifer Follett as she waits for her school bus one morning. Beyond the remote possibility of an outsider’s passing through the area, there aren’t many suspects.
After an adolescent boy comes forward to describe the car in which Jennifer was abducted, police focus on Gerald and Claire Sandoval, who own a similar vehicle and whose past can’t be verified. Jones builds the tension with a steady hand, giving us a distinct sense of the terror felt by Jennifer’s parents, Ed and Caroline. Conversations at home and with the police are filled with pauses, abrupt changes in tempo and disjointed thoughts as the Folletts try to grasp their neighbor’s involvement.
“More acquaintances than friends, Caroline, wouldn’t you . . .?” says Ed. “Not close friends anyway,” replies Caroline. “She -- back in the fall, remember, Ed -- Jennifer’s Sunday school teacher and --” Ed: “They were very nice to us -- we were just start -- new -- in the congregation and didn’t know anybod --” Caroline: “They had us over for dinner once -- they own horses -- Gerald does --”
Though we know Gerald is guilty, the ensuing cat-and-mouse game deftly unfolds against a backdrop of dogged police work and Gerald’s spiral into madness. With sadistic yet mesmerizing energy, Jones keeps us riveted.
See you Friday for Vintage Covers day.