T.F. Torrey's Review of Drive by James Sallis

The publishing industry is filled with predictable books. By that I don't mean just formula genre books, such as most romances, action-adventure books, and mysteries, but mainstream books with predictable elements: anti-hero, rising arcs of action over three hundred or so pages, happy ending or not, closure. Such elements have become so ingrained in the industry that books that go against them must be so strongly written that readers (and critics) overlook the lack of familiar elements. In Drive, the powerful prose of James Sallis provides just such a distraction, in a book so off-beat that we never even learn the protagonist's name.

Driver realized then that he was holding his breath. Listening for sirens, for the sounds of people gathering on stairways or down in the parking lot, for the scramble of feet beyond the door.

Written in the best noir style, Drive opens, literally, in a pool of blood. The protagonist, whose name is never more than "Driver", spends part of his time as a stunt driver for the movies, and another part driving for criminals. As the book opens, his work for (the non-Hollywood) criminals has taken a terrible turn, and Driver finds his life completely unhinged. The rest of the book explores how Driver has come to be in this situation, and how he might get himself out. As the story unfolds across Arizona and southern California, Sallis's lean and powerful prose draws a stark image of a man on the fringe of society, in a dark world that most of us only see in the corners of our eyes as we drive quickly by.

Up till the time Driver got his growth about twelve, he was small for his age, an attribute of which his father made full use. The boy could fit easily through small openings, bathroom windows, pet doors and so on, making him a considerable helpmate at his father's trade, which happened to be burglary.

From a writer's perspective, Drive is an excellent example of handling flashback. Common advice for writers is to begin "in media res"—in the middle of the action. Drive takes this to the extreme, beginning only a few days before the end, but telling a story that sweeps across a span of years. What does that mean for a story? Flashback, and lots of it. Probably two thirds of the book is flashback, and while that can be the kiss of death for a story in the hands of an amateur, Sallis handles it flawlessly. Despite the dramatic jumps backward and forward in time, a reader goes through the pages without feeling lost. Instead, the narrative comes together as a jigsaw puzzle, with the pieces falling into place one by one until the final, inevitable, piece completes the picture.

Cover to cover, Sallis puts on a demonstration of the style and structure of quality writing. Drive easily could be (and surely will be if it isn't already) used as a textbook in a creative writing class. It's that good.

Perfect round hole between his eyes, Nino staggered back against the partially opened front door, pushing it the rest of the way open. His legs remained on the porch. Varicose veins like thick blue snakes stood out on them. A slipper fell off. His toenails were thick as planks.

Drive is an excellent book, written by a veteran author who really understands books and writing. Any fan of noir should not miss it, and anyone who enjoys a solid story wrapped in excellent prose should not miss it either. That, in my opinion, should include everyone.

As a side note, Drive was also the subject of a Sunday review at the excellent online comic Unshelved (one of my essential daily reads).

Disclosure: I must admit that I know James Sallis, and consider him a friend. This fact, however, did not impact my review. Like Jim, I don't slant my reviews to my friends; instead, I simply do not review books that I do not like.

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