Country: USA
Genre: Crime
Pages: 216/542 kb
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"You wanted to see me," Speedy said, sawed-off pointing at the floor. He'd always felt it was rude to point a piece at a man in his own house unless you were getting ready to use it.
Crime fiction doesn't always have to be dark. It can be gritty and blood-soaked without getting into the throes of depression and darkness within. STREET RAISED, by Pearce Hansen reads like a love letter more than the usual action-packed obituary that is noir. I understand why it is so. Where you come from and who you grew up with is a part of you. You can find poetry in the meanest, most dangerous streets if they are YOUR streets. STREET RAISED packs a lot of action and drama, but it's a lively portrait of the Oakland area. It's far from being a perfect novel, but when your characters have this unspeakable charm and your story feels strong and visceral enough, you can get away with almost anything. This bad boy will require a patient reader, but in the greater scheme of things, it's a rewarding read. Pearce Hansen takes a lot of detours, but he always finds the highway.
The story of STREET RAISED has more to do with an epic poem than a modern crime novel. John "Speedy" Hancock is released from prison and hitchhikes his way to Oakland, to piece up his life together. He's looking for his little brother Willy, who has turned his life over to the demon of addiction and his friend Fat Bob who's now bouncing bars. The get-together plans are soon derailed when Mexican gangsters send two of their friends to their horrible death. Speedy and Bob then put the breaks to their cute feelings and start planning revenge. But you know, life doesn't let them wreck havoc without getting in the way. Speedy meets Carmel, a beautiful phone psychic and Officier Louis (my favorite character), the same man who put Speedy behind bars comes back in the rear view with an agenda of his own. That's just a few speed bumps Speedy and Bob run into, on their way to getting even.
Let's get it out of the way first, there is only one major issue that bothered me with STREET RAISED. There's really not much left to the reader to forge his own opinion of the characters. It's true especially regarding to Speedy. There's a lot (too much) of qualifiers written to make sure that we know how Speedy feels towards the situation and that those feelings are pure of heart. Pearce Hansen gets in the way of his character. It's not uncommon, great writers also suffered from this. John Updike for example. I didn't like it, I thought that Speedy's actions spoke loud enough for him most of the time. It's obvious that he's a good dude in a rough place. As much as this gets in the way, it doesn't deter too much from the overall beauty of STREET RAISED. The main attraction of the novel to me, was Pearce Hansen's magnificent portraits of a sprawling and chaotic Oakland.
In Willy's mental movie, the people try to fight that modern miracle the Freeway, just as Berkeley had done so successfully. But the West Oaklanders aren't white professionals and academics safely ensconced behind their money up in the Hills - they're blue collar blacks living in the Flats, without the necessary ressources to practice Berkeley's brand of NIMBY-ism.
Certain places shape a certain type of people. Eskimos* are often fat because they grew up in a blistering cold for generations and their body adapted with a natural isolating cold. Warmer climates often have happier and more social people due to the kinder weather and the lack of urban development, leading to a proliferation of smaller communities.** STREET RAISED functions with the same logic. It's a hard place that shapes and breeds hard people, who can deal with anything life can throw at them. The Oakland of Pearce Hansen is a fascinating hive-mind mother that preys on its children to keep its cycle going. She's worth the read alone. I might have my issues with STREET RAISED, it's also a little derivative. There are chapters the novel could've existed without and it would have been tighter. But the good outweights the bad here. Nobody writes crime the way Pearce Hansen does. His unique, picaresque view of the American streets has strangely left me wanting more.
THREE STARS
* or Innus, to be politically correct
** I know this is generalizing and absolutely not scientific, but please don't flood me with comments and emails about this. You get the idea.