Bottoms, the (Paperback)

Technically, I guess, the tale is told by the older sibling, who is now elderly (in a nursing home?); and to tell the truth, I wish Lansdale had left the frame story out of it. There's only so much denoument a novel needs, and I got more wind-down than I really wanted. But even so, it's a damn fine story and Lansdale's writing style is enough to keep you flying from paragraph to paragraph, even during those brief periods when you're less than thrilled with the content.

[side note: For those of you who may not be aware, Joe Lansdale is the spectacular fellow who wrote the short story upon which the movie <i>Bubba Ho-Tep</i> was based. If you are blessed enough to own (or rent) a copy of the DVD, be sure to check some of the extras for an interview or two with Lansdale. He seems like quite a character, all lower-bodily fixations aside.]

A lot of Lansdale's work has a streak of dark humor running through it; you know when you read it you'll have a good time. The Bottoms has a lot of the same qualities of his other work, but is a more serious telling. Released by Mysterious Press, this is more of what people usually expect when they pick up a mystery novel, but still with the signature Lansdale stamp. Racism is a subject that never seems to get old, and it hangs heavily over the proceedings.

From his room in a rest home, old Harry Collins tells the story of a period of his childhood in the 1930s. While he and his sister Tom (short for Thomasina and tomboy) are out on an unpleasant task -- that of putting down their sick dog, Toby -- they come across a dead black woman, naked and tied to a tree with barbed wire. Their father, Jacob, is the local Constable, so he is saddled with the investigation of the apparent murder. Of course, the kids think it was done by the Goat Man, a mysterious half-goat, half-man creature (he has horns but walks on two legs) that lives in the woods.

Jacob's identification of the dead woman (who turns out to be a local prostitute) takes him into the black part of town, where he is confronted by townspeople, both black and white, who don't want him involved in "colored folks' business." Nobody cares about a dead black whore, they say, especially if she was killed by one of her own. Things heat up, however, when the body count increases; and when a white woman is killed, they are string up the first black man presented as a suspect. Jacob quickly learns that it's not easy to conduct a murder investigation when people are more interested in lynching than justice.

Meanwhile, Harry is doing some learning of his own, and The Bottoms is, primarily, his coming-of-age story. Just on the cusp of teenhood, Harry is growing up quickly, having been confronted with his first dead person along with the heavy race relations going on around him. Old Harry's voice comes through often to tell what was gleaned from some of these experiences. His views soon mirror his father's, who, even though his actions are sometimes flawed, believes in the equality of all people. In his characterizations, Lansdale makes sure his racists are despicable, even as he gives them other sensitive qualities like endowing one with the power of reason to see the error of his ways.

Although lacking the sense of extreme fun of his other novels, The Bottoms is still full of Lansdale's crackerjack wit, and his characters inevitably come out with creative metaphors for given situations, especially Harry's Grandma, who is chock full of folksy homilies. It is likely one of his best works and its receipt of the Edgar Allan Poe award is entirely justified. For beginners to the Lansdale canon, it is a way to get their feet wet before diving in, and for existing fans, it offers yet another angle of Lansdale's abilities. Writers with the talent of Lansdale are few and far between and this reviewer looks forward to each new offering.

Harry's imagination runs wild. He can't think of anything but the murder and he too wants to find the killer. His prime suspect is the Goat Man, the myth-monster who lives like a troll under the rotting swinging bridge that crosses the Sabine River.

After a white woman is killed, the local Klansmen lynch an elderly black man, but of course he wasn't the killer. Maybe it was the Goat Man after all, maybe not. Maybe it was a "travelin' man,' a term that would later be changed to "serial killer." And maybe the killer is a lot closer than anybody thinks.

The story combines twisted family histories, gossip, myth, urban legend, a child's imagination, considerable gore, a generous number of decaying corpses, some raw sexuality and characters that you'll never forget. It's a story about a lot of things, good and evil, death, justice and the law, to name a few. It's a story well worth reading, again and again.

Sophie Cacique Gaul