The seemingly pristine surface of an entitled community is cracked like an eggshell when a young girl is found murdered. As the concerned parents rally around their children, this world is shown to be exquisitely fragile and diamond hard. Brown-skinned people find out, once again, how quickly whites are to betray them when matters turn ugly. Marriages reflect the fragility of this society as strong foundations are revealed to be shaky and easily crumbled under pressure.
Embarrassing truths are covered up and lies are bruited abroad. Within this arena of slander, gossip and mendacity, social media eagerly takes its place. Reflective of the human psyche, opinions turn like leaves in a storm. One moment, people are vilified, the next glorified. Accused become saints or demons, with no room for moderation. A half-truth or outright lie wings its way through the digital ether reminding us of the quotation: “Besides, as the vilest Writer has his Readers, so the greatest Liar has his Believers; and it often happens, that if a Lie be believ’d only for an Hour, it has done its Work, and there is no farther occasion for it. Falsehood flies, and the Truth comes limping after it.”
Another disturbing element of this shiny world is the pervasive substance abuse. A lot of characters freely indulge in drink or drugs or both. A stepmother plies her barely legal stepdaughter with alcohol to get her to talk. A man steadily sinks into the morass of alcoholism after the death of his daughter, herself a victim to drug use. Wives drink behind their husbands’s backs. A daughter filches untested drugs from her father’s stash. An adolescent’s body bears the marks of her self-harm…until her abusive boyfriend responds to her sinister need to be hurt.
The author paints these addictions with a deft hand and a disturbing insight into what makes users tick. One man ruminates how his solo jab at sobriety after months of inebriation simply wrecked him. Clarity simply hurt too much and he gratefully fell back into the arms of his alcoholic mistress. (Contrary to what AA and other such institutions have been telling us, an addict can pass a point of no return. After all, you can’t recover from addiction unless you are bound and determined to do so.)
These are flawed and fragile human beings limned between these pages. They are all hungry for something—sex, love, bliss, friendship, family connection—and seek it with the fierce determination of people who will trample over anything that gets in their way.
The murder mystery is the core of this novel but not necessarily its driving force. It’s the bleak, sordid underbelly as revealed by the various fictional denizens that form the vibrant tapestry. The colors in the curtain make it vibrate—until you realize the movement is caused by squirming maggots.
Embarrassing truths are covered up and lies are bruited abroad. Within this arena of slander, gossip and mendacity, social media eagerly takes its place. Reflective of the human psyche, opinions turn like leaves in a storm. One moment, people are vilified, the next glorified. Accused become saints or demons, with no room for moderation. A half-truth or outright lie wings its way through the digital ether reminding us of the quotation: “Besides, as the vilest Writer has his Readers, so the greatest Liar has his Believers; and it often happens, that if a Lie be believ’d only for an Hour, it has done its Work, and there is no farther occasion for it. Falsehood flies, and the Truth comes limping after it.”
Another disturbing element of this shiny world is the pervasive substance abuse. A lot of characters freely indulge in drink or drugs or both. A stepmother plies her barely legal stepdaughter with alcohol to get her to talk. A man steadily sinks into the morass of alcoholism after the death of his daughter, herself a victim to drug use. Wives drink behind their husbands’s backs. A daughter filches untested drugs from her father’s stash. An adolescent’s body bears the marks of her self-harm…until her abusive boyfriend responds to her sinister need to be hurt.
The author paints these addictions with a deft hand and a disturbing insight into what makes users tick. One man ruminates how his solo jab at sobriety after months of inebriation simply wrecked him. Clarity simply hurt too much and he gratefully fell back into the arms of his alcoholic mistress. (Contrary to what AA and other such institutions have been telling us, an addict can pass a point of no return. After all, you can’t recover from addiction unless you are bound and determined to do so.)
These are flawed and fragile human beings limned between these pages. They are all hungry for something—sex, love, bliss, friendship, family connection—and seek it with the fierce determination of people who will trample over anything that gets in their way.
The murder mystery is the core of this novel but not necessarily its driving force. It’s the bleak, sordid underbelly as revealed by the various fictional denizens that form the vibrant tapestry. The colors in the curtain make it vibrate—until you realize the movement is caused by squirming maggots.