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To say the book is nonlinear is putting it mildly; the only thing some of these vignettes have in common is that they happen to be contained within the same book. But Gifford has a knack for creating electrifying, grainy snapshots of subterranean life, pulling defining moments into vivid focus while leaving the background mired in shadow and mystery. The characters are not deep, but they are rich, and even those who appear for only a paragraph or two are memorable, adding much to the setting, if not the plot.
As might be expected of one who has written screenplays for (Wild at Heart) and with (Lost Highway) David Lynch, Barry Gifford paints hypnotic dreamscapes in which the atmosphere is the driving force behind the narrative. Those searching for a seamless, let alone believable, story will be left shaking their heads, but those willing to suspend reality and embrace even the most outlandish coincidences and tattered loose ends will enjoy the staccato dialogue, gritty detail, and oddly appealing cast in this eerie joy ride along the dark fringes of America. --Shawn Carkonen
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Reptilian Saturday Nite Sex & Violence Stomp,
By James Paris "Tarnmoor" (Los Angeles, CA USA) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Sinaloa Story ("Rebel Inc") (Paperback)
Whoa! There's a lot going on here in paucas palabras. We're in one of those border nightmares where Texas, Arizona, and Mexico all ooze together into some kind of sharp southwestern guisado with enough lard and chiles to singe your lips and leave a brownish cloud around your cabeza. Add jeans that are too tight, old cars, bad norteno music, and chicas that are muy guapa and hot to trot -- and you get Barry Gifford, the Sage of Big Tuna, at his very best.I've seen David Lynch's WILD AT HEART and LOST HIGHWAYS, both based on Gifford books, but straight Gifford hits you right upside the gut with a haymaker. The hot relationship between DelRay Mudo and Ava Varazo is interrupted when the latter blows away her pimp, Indio Desacato, and runs off to La Villania (Nasty), Mexico, to take up with an obscure political cause. Everything goes to hell when Cobra Box, her associate, goes to Bad Leopard, Idaho, to buy guns. Nobody ultimately gets together with anybody: just overheated bodies caroming around in a ranchero beat with the occasional gratuitous sex or violence. As Cairo Fly put it in his diary that closes the book, "Is it possible for a person's soul to stray away or be stolen and without it the person has no peace in their heart? I feel I am one of those now." There is something mesmerizing about Gifford's staccato chapters. Try too hard to follow the story, and you wind up like Thankful Priest with a bullet in your head in some godforsaken south of the border hellhole. No, man, just keep going to the beat. Sometimes, you fall off the edge of the world; sometimes you get good Tequila with your chilaquiles. I've got to get me some more of those Gifford books -- if this one's any indicator.
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