Into the Fire

Paul Robertson wrote an interesting and dynamic first novel, The Heir, which I reviewed here. In that novel he established a strong voice in his confounded protagonist accompanied by an unusual storyline. In his second novel he takes a solid detour to a few small towns and a hopeful new community under development separated by a mountain and comprising the fictitious Jefferson County in North Carolina. (I will interject here that I live near real mountains, not those high hills found in some of the southeastern states which I suspect the mountain in this story is like.)

The story circulates around the members of the Jefferson County North Carolina Board of Supervisors and opens with the monthly meeting on Monday, January 2nd. Well respected 80-plus year old leader Joe Esterhouse bangs the gavel and grudgingly conducts limited business which sets in motion the conflict of building a new road through the mountain connecting one side of the county to the other without having to drive the considerable distance around it to get to the interstate. The problem seems to be where the road will start and end and how the funding became available for what seems like two fairly insignificant areas in an obscure county in the state. After much consternation and public outcries both for and against the road being built, causing division between neighbors and business owners, it is discovered that two deaths of board members were actually murders.

This is not a short novel, and it is told in portions from each board member’s point of view with peripheral characters regularly entering and exiting the lives of these members to make their opinions known regarding the building of this new road. It’s an ensemble cast of small town folks and transplanted big city folks with their lives intersecting because of the possibility of this road uniting them from either side of the mountain. Captured with all their unique qualities as people, not to mention with their quirkiness intact, we learn that there are both outside and inside the area forces interested in seeing this road become a reality, but the opposition is just as staunch, maybe even deadly.

So . . . Paul Robertson is a talented writer, but I have no idea why he chose to make his second novel about the varied reactions of diverse people to a road. I kept feeling like I was missing the point—that maybe there was a bigger picture, perhaps an allegorical message portrayed in the small town mindset resisting progress or the clichéd city folks pushing for progress. Taken at face value, it’s a risky second novel. Some of these people are caricatures straight out of Mayberry from the old Andy Griffith Show. There is wisdom in Joe Esterhouse, but he’s slow to act on his suspicions and nearly silent even in conversations. Louise is gregarious and emotional. Randy is as soft as the Pillsbury Doughboy until the very end, and Wade vacillates between a shyster and a good salesman. These are just a few of the locals. After awhile, I grew weary of them all. The conflict between those who wanted the road and those who didn’t became a bit boring and way too slow moving as far as solving the crimes. Maybe the objective was to show how real life in small towns moves at a snail’s pace even when possible murder is involved. Or perhaps the story was written to validate the positive efforts of community when it works together and the destructiveness of when those within it are in opposition to one another.

Christianity is in the background but present along with one odd board member who hears voices from the other side.

You all know I love long novels, and I don’t even mind slow pacing, but when I get tired of the characters, it’s over for me. The last chapter arrived at a satisfactory conclusion, but the Road to Nowhere took way too long to get where it was going.

Father, thank you for Paul’s talent. Please continue to guide him in his writing and give him more stories to tell. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.