All the Beautiful Sinners by Stephen Graham Jones

Now this is an amazing book. I don't like murder mysteries or crime novels, or psycho-dramas, or thrillers, but I liked this book, which definitely falls under one of those genres. In short, it's about people trying to catch a serial killer. In reality, it's two stories that cross each other's paths.

Jim Doe is a Blackfeet Indian from Texas, a Sheriff's Deputy at the beginning of the book. After the Sheriff, his friend and mentor, is killed by an Indian who's passing through, he goes on the trail of the killer. He feels guilty because he should have taken the call, but he was spending time with a girl who reminded him of his dead sister.

In the other story, FBI agents are on the trail of a killer who leaves behind the bodies of adults who are altered to look like children. That is, their legs and arms are shortened. They are also painted white and put up on scaffolds like the Indians used to do.

I can't really go further than that without giving away some of the plot. But then, I can't explain it very well anyway. By god, that was one of the most confusing books, I've ever read. I mean, he uses metaphorical statements sometimes as descriptions of events, so it's hard to tell what's really happening and what's not. Like, did Jim Doe actually see the old man who seemed to disappear behind his car, or was that just what Jim was thinking? I don't know. Mildred read this book before I did, and she had just as much trouble, so it's not just my literal-mindedness. But I really don't think that detracts from the book. It's strange and interesting, and Steven Graham Jones is a writer. Not all writers are "writer" writers, they just use words to build the structure. With Jones, like with Thomas Wolfe and other, more poetic-minded writers, the writing is a work of art in itself. It's hard to describe though, like any art is hard to describe. I mean, saying that Van Gogh's "Sunflowers" is a painting of a field of sunflowers does it no justice, and it's just as hard to describe writing like Jones uses.

As for the story, even if you hate crime novels like I do, this book will satisfy you. It's not about the crimes, nor is it some cat-and-mouse game like other such novels are. There's not the formulaic "FBI agent reliving battle with the one who got away" structure here. To be sure, the killer is referencing something in the past, but it's not what anyone thinks. They're not sure why he ever does what he does, and they have extreme difficulty figuring out a pattern for him. But the author doesn't really let you into anybody's mind, so you don't understand him either. You get to see the past, and you see some of everyone's motivations, but there's no internal dialogue to explain what's going on with anyone.

It's kind of long (I think over 450 pages, but around there anyway), but I never got tired of reading this book. It was extremely compelling. Of course, I was kind of interested since he's a Native American (Blackfeet) author, and there's not that many of those around. Also, he's a Texan author. He lives around Lubbock and teaches at Texas Tech. All of which, you understand, compels my interest.

But once I got started, that's not what kept me reading; Jones is simply a great writer. I guess it's kind of like reading a dream. The sheer strangess of it keeps your attention, but the beauty of its shape would anyway. I just can't recommend this book enough. Give it a try, because even if in the end you don't understand it, it'll still have been worth it.