In the Valley of the Devil by Hank Early
My rating: 3/5 cats
this is book two of the southern crime series featuring private investigator earl marcus, and i liked it just slightly less than the first, Heaven’s Crooked Finger. the debut was stuffed to the rafters with plot—detailing earl marcus’ unpleasantly necessary homecoming and the backstory about what drove him away; all old wounds and spectacularly bad daddy issues, while readers were also being taken through the intricate web of connections in these north georgia mountains—between religion, law enforcement, families, criminals, the gritty world of rednecks and snake handlers with as many betrayals as unexpected allies. plus a little dusting of the supernatural. and some romance, to offset the gloom.
by comparison, this one is much more spare.
although marcus managed to take care of many evildoers in Heaven’s Crooked Finger, the nature of the north georgia mountains abhors a vacuum of evil, and when a high-profile minister comes to town to promote his new book and his racist, sexist beliefs, the leftover evil seems ignited with new energy, causing that palpable buzzy unease that comes before a storm, and strange things start happening; human skulls are found, sightings of old nathaniel—a baddie from local mountain folklore—are reported, and while co-investigating rumors of criminal activity in a funhouse of a cornfield, marcus’ detective girlfriend mary vanishes amidst the stalks, presumably kidnapped by racists for whom a black female in a position of authority is a triple threat to their worldview.
from there on out, earl marcus has one goal—find mary, and one strategy—crack skulls. i applaud the single-mindedness of this, but for a PI, marcus doesn’t have much game. he’s very much a self-destructive-bull-in-china-shop, frequently ending up in situations where death seems inevitable, and instead of getting fighty, he’ll just lean into it with a shrug. you can’t be that blasé mid-mission, when your lady’s life is on the line. fortunately, he’s also the luckiest sumbitch around and he extricates himself from these circumstances more through chance than skill, although he does get peed on once, which is unfortunate. but back to fortunate is that he seems to have far more blood than the average man, and a resilience of body allowing him to function through assaults that would defeat an ordinary person.
in between these assaults, he has time for reflection on the nature of evil:
When I’d come up in these mountains over thirty years ago, the racism and misogyny had had as much to do with ignorance and poor education as it had with pure hatred. Sure, it was still vile, and men like my father who perpetuated it and capitalized on it were beyond reprehensible. Yet, what seemed to be happening now…felt meaner, more despicable somehow, as if it were an extension—or maybe a better word was a symptom—of the corrosion of goodwill and basic decency that seemed to be pervading so many parts of our country.
Of course, there were some who would always follow a persuasive leader, but I couldn’t help but draw a distinction between folks who didn’t have the worldly experience and education to know better and those that did. The latter seemed unspeakably vile to me.
he’s not always great at his job this time out, perhaps affected by blood and girlfriend-loss, but luck and endurance go a long way, along with the assistance of prophetic dreams and apparitions and the sustaining bellyfire of rage. it may weaken his impulse control and cause him to react unprofessionally, but i think it’s always considered justifiable to punch a racist. and at least he’s aware of his tendency to cave to anger and violence: I could control it better and sometimes even direct it for good, but I was always susceptible to losing my shit.
spoiler alert—that quote is from the beginning of the book, before mary is kidnapped, and this “control” is not much in evidence.
it’s less fully-developed than Heaven’s Crooked Finger, but a lot of the work that was done there pays off here—rufus is back, ronnie thrash is back, and there have been several major changes in the town after those events played out that continue to develop here. and a lot of what happens here, which is a somewhat introspective journey addressing personal shortcomings, ruminating on evil, understanding the history of the region and how the different social, racial, economic cogs interlock, seems to be setting up what comes next for earl marcus, a future which i hope includes the return of the man with the strawberry tattoo.
here are two things that cheesed me off:
PI-fail – marcus gets an exposition-heavy phone message from the sheriff about a number of important developments before he gets around to:
“The real news is what one of my deputies found over near the cornfield. It was a human skull. Well, it was a head, but a lot of the skull was exposed. Shit, it looked like the face had been ripped clean off. It’s going to be a bit before forensics can get back to us, but I have to tell you it look–”
The phone beeped and a female voice said, “End of messages.”
although that sounds like a really important message that might concern the fate of the woman he has spent 228 pages searching for, he doesn’t call back, he doesn’t pursue it any further. he goes to sleep. has a dream. wakes up. goes to the hardware store. it’s true he’s on a mission and he’s got a plan, but i still think you’d want to check in and see about that skull.
and i am mad about goose! that poor dog! earl marcus’ll stop off at home to eat some food and he’ll remember to feed goose with “big bowls,” and then he’ll be gone for like 16 hours at a time. poor goose all cooped up and lonesome. i hope he pooped big bowls of food all over the bed.
also, susan monroe is the nicest, prettiest librarian of all time and you’d better be planning on fixing her car, earl marcus!
