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Rating: Simply titled Paris Trout in the original 1988 version, this novel gets under your skin and stays there.
We are in rural America in the 1950s, not far from Atlanta in Black Georgia. A small town with a long Southern tradition. The characters in this story are depicted and explored with extreme, realistic precision. In essence, almost all the whites are practically racist, and almost all the Blacks are poor and exploited, or nearly so.
It might seem like a well-known script, but something inexplicable happens that upends the town and forces its inhabitants to face something unexpected and horrific, exposing for all to see the dark heart of their neat and ordered society.
Suddenly, without any warning signs, a series of minor events begins, triggering an unstoppable avalanche of violence and oppression, along with the often hypocritical attempts to put an end to the impending disaster.
A senseless crime, an amoral man, a shopkeeper who lives in a world ruled by money, steeped in contradictions, bathed in the Second Amendment—the right to bear arms—racist to the core and violent toward his wife and others until the very end. A man whose beliefs are so deeply ingrained that they leave no room for any alternative to his actions.
Paradoxically, Paris Trout finds in his lawyer Harry Seagraves—who initially defends him in the best way possible—the antagonist who, in some way, will steer the course of the story.
Amidst the twists of events lie the small-town tales, the little stories that define the characters—major and minor—within a choral ensemble and a bleak general picture offering little hope, but for a couple of unconventional female characters, especially if seen in the context of the time.
Between a certain popular naivety and a disconcerting institutional harshness, the fates of the characters cross: pointless sheriffs, corrupt judges, ridiculous verdicts—all seasoned with raw racism and true apartheid, the kind that existed before the Civil Rights movements.
Sharp dialogues and an attention to detail convey the measure of this novel, winner of the National Book Award for fiction.
I don't want to spoil the ending, which hovers over the whole book, but what happens is so hard that I would advise those who are overly sensitive not to read it.
This book fits into the finest American literary tradition—the one, to be clear, of Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird” and Truman Capote’s “In Cold Blood.” Part noir, part legal thriller, the story unfolds in an emotional crescendo that flows from the characters to the reader.
In short, my advice is to read it, then decide for yourself.
The novel was adapted into the film of the same name (1991), starring Dennis Hopper, Ed Harris, and Barbara Hershey, which I haven’t seen and about which I cannot comment. Ajò
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