Sunset and Sawdust (Hardcover)

Set in the heat parched environs of Camp Rapture (known to the local employees as "Camp Rupture"), East Texas during the Great Depression, "Sunset and Sawdust" tells us everything we would want to know about a spirited firecracker named Sunset Jones. The adventure begins when Sunset (so named because of her mane of bright red hair) murders her abusive husband during a tornado strike. Regrettably for Sunset, her husband Pete was the town constable and the son of the primary owners of the local saw mill. It takes a lot of guts to stroll into the mill and tell Pete's parents what she did, but Sunset is the type of gal who always lives up to her responsibilities. Predictably, the men in the area despise the fact that this uppity woman dispatched her spouse. After all, everyone expects a woman in 1930's Texas to keep her mouth shut and fulfill her marital obligations. Oddly enough, Sunset's actions lead her mother-in-law Marilyn Jones to take a stand against her own husband's abusive practices. Moreover, Marilyn goes so far as to pull strings to get Sunset appointed town constable. Backed up by Clyde, a rough and tumble mill worker, and a roving hobo named Hillbilly, Sunset puts on a badge and pistol to assume her post as law officer for the mill town.

A series of events soon leads to impending troubles for Sunset Jones. In her husband's files, she discovers a document recording a strange event that took place on a nearby farm owned by a black man named Zendo. According to Pete's written recollections, the farmer discovered the body of an unborn infant, encased in an earthen jar and covered in oil, buried on his property. Constable Pete Jones took the body and buried it in an unmarked grave with little public fanfare, which makes Sunset suspicious enough to reopen the case. Soon, Zendo's plow turns up the corpse of a woman, also covered in oil, on another piece of his property. The two shocking discoveries soon lead to a series of confrontations that threaten Sunset Jones, her bond with her daughter Karen, and her relationships with Clyde, Hillbilly, and Marilyn. It seems some bad people with an eye towards making a bundle off the new local commodity have been up to some very bad things, and the only person ultimately standing in their way is Sunset Jones's meddling. Several subplots, including Jones's reconciliation with her long lost father, the appearance of two goons from up North, and a local black moonshiner named Bull all help move the story to its violent conclusion.

"Sunset and Sawdust" doesn't stick to a single genre. Elements of humor, murder mystery, and action adventure wind their way through the book. At times, Lansdale goes straight for the funny bone with the slangy banter between Sunset, Clyde, and Hillbilly. Clyde's reasoning for burning down his house is quite amusing, as is our red headed heroine's methods of enforcing the law. So often does Lansdale slather on the hilarity that we often forget the novel is a mystery. Why are those bodies in the fields? Who put them there and why? Who are they? These questions, and Sunset's attempts to discover the answers, pop up with increasing frequency as the book heads to its shoot 'em up denouement. The inclusion of several fistfights, gun battles, and general mayhem spices up the novel as well. I think there is something for everyone in "Sunset and Sawdust," even for horror fans. The character known as Two is one of the creepiest villains I've seen in a book for some time. Yep, all sorts of readers should have a rollicking good time with this entertaining read.

I did have a few problems with the book. The biggest difficulty is how anachronistic the whole thing is in reference to race relations. Imagine a 1990's mentality towards social relations implanted into Texas of the 1930s. I increasingly had doubts that Sunset and Clyde could have gotten away with the things they were doing in favor of the local black populace. Too, Sunset's appointment as town constable despite the murder charge hanging over her head was completely unconvincing. You can't tell me someone wouldn't have worked behind the scenes to bring her down. Lansdale tries to deflect problems in this area by having Marilyn use her clout as mill owner to help Sunset get the job, and also reveals a rather heavy handed overt plot to remove Sunset from power, but it's all rather shaky. Still, the novel overcomes these troubling quandaries easily by slathering on the humor and creating engaging and fully developed characters. I readily recommend "Sunset and Sawdust" despite these slight problems.

I'd never heard of Lansdale before NIGHT VISIONS, and after reading his stories in that volume I never have never forgotten him. Lansdale's work effortlessly cuts across genres; while he tends to find himself classified in the western, horror, and suspense genres, his work and his talent are too big and too strong to be confined to any one area. He writes like an angel with the mindset of Hieronymus Bosch. If there were a soundtrack to his novels, it would be ZZ Top fronted by Trent Reznor, with The Sons of the Pioneers on vocals. While Lansdale's work is set in this world, he's definitely writing about the part of the town where the buses run few and far between, if at all.

SUNSET AND SAWDUST combines all of the finest elements of Lansdale's talents, making the Depression era East Texas towns of Camp Rapture and Holiday the setting for a dark morality tale with Biblical overtones. The story begins with Sunset Jones killing her husband Pete in self-defense in the midst of a devastating windstorm. The late departed Pete was the constable of Camp Rapture and the son of Marilyn Jones, three-quarter owner of the sawmill which is the lifeblood of the town.

No one is more surprised than Sunset when her mother-in-law proves to be unexpectedly understanding of Sunset's actions, and sees to it that Sunset succeeds Pete as town constable. Sunset, to everyone's surprise, actually takes her duties seriously, and while there are those who are extremely uncomfortable having a woman filling the duties of the office, she manages to acquire a grudging respect from the citizens, particularly after she assists law enforcement in Holiday to defuse a particularly violent situation. The bizarre discovery of the bodies of a woman and a newly born baby on the property of the only black landowner in the area, however, lead Sunshine into an investigation that individuals in both towns would rather not see completed.

Lansdale is known for creating frightening but realistic characters, and he is at the top of his game here, introducing the unlikely pair of McBride and Two as well as the enigmatic Hillbilly. Another of Lansdale's stylistic trademarks, colorful metaphors and turns of phrase, are in good supply here, peppered throughout the narrative like the Burma Shave highway signposts of old. The outcome of the apocalyptic ending is, as usually the case with Lansdale, impossible to predict; it seems at times as if Lansdale himself is surprised at the denouement. This, perhaps, is at it should be.

After more than twenty years of writing, and at a point in his career where a less enterprising writer could happily phone in an annual novel, Lansdale continues to challenge and to surpass himself. This is a work by an American treasure who has yet to receive his full and rightful due.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub