This is an odd book about the growing southern boy, written with
that region's usual humor and richness of language but avoiding the
extremes of gothic-bizarre or corn-pone hominess. It follows
Harriman Monroe's eight-year-old infatuation with the Dream of
Pines colored band through learning the trumpet as a way of
compensating for his terrible acne; on to the "roaches" (girl
losers) he very occasionally dated; to the inevitable horsing
around with his crazy college roommate Fleece and ex-Yalie jock
Silas; to medical school (he flunked out); to pharmacology school
(he quit); to English graduate school (he stays, presumably to
write this book); and his marriage to a girl who is undoubtedly the
last technical virgin over fifteen south of the Mason-Dixon line.
Not that Harry knows this, for his world is a curious combination
of daredevil cynicism and innocence - when Silas is about to marry
Fleece's old girl friend, Harry asks him if he really wants used
goods. And when Harry's not on the various parade grounds of the
south, he pretends he's Geronimo, from the bandana around his head
to the pistol in his pocket. The story, with its recurring
characters and events, is in one sense well plotted, but all of it
is without any significance - like the barber who broke the world's
haircutting record, an admirable but essentially trivial
accomplishment. (Kirkus Reviews)
Barry Hannah is a literary craftsman of rare verve and flawless
turns of phrase. Geronimo Rex, his first novel, was awarded the
William Faulkner Prize and was nominated for the National Book
Award.
Reared in gloomy Dream of Pines, Louisiana, where the pines have
long since yielded to paper mills, Harry Monroe is ready to take on
the world. Inspired by the great Geronimo's heroic rampage through
the Old West, Harry pulls on knee boots and a scarf and voyages out
into the swamp of adolescence in the South of the 1950s and '60s.
Along the way he is attacked by an unruly peacock; discovers women,
rock 'n' roll, and jazz; and stalks a pervert white supremacist who
fancies himself the next Henry Miller. As Harry comes awkwardly
into his own, Barry Hannah gives us a brilliant portrait of those
times and that place -- plagued by violent reality but giddy, like
Harry himself, with a sense of unlimited possibility.
General
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