Seth Morgans first and last completed novel is a simultaneously brilliant and uneasy read that like an addiction, first captivates then unravels itself until the reader is rendered helpless to its grimy power.
His story begins deep in the gut of a seedy San Francisco underbelly and ends up ensconsed in the heart of a prison hell. As the story unravels, we are introduced to a smorgasbord of whacked out, grimy, and tragic characters whos' tales gather around us to weave a web of terrifyingly real and sometimes disarmingly surreal situations. The story of 'Homeboy', if it is broken down to its core, is surprisingly simple, but it is told in a way that demands the reader to concentrate. Like the first minutes in a subtitled movie, we are forced to think hard about what we are reading.
But the beauty in 'Homeboy' lies not in the story, but the unbelievable use of the English language. His descriptions of seemingly simple places, people and events are described using words that a terrestrial author would never dream of using. And yet these descriptions paint a picture of incredible detail, you can almost physically smell the stench of wretched human lives steaming out between the cracks of Coldwater Prison and feel the warm chill of heroin as it is pumped through the brittle veins of 'Rings n Things'.
The fact that we will never have the honour of another complete book by Seth Morgan is tragic. But unlike Jeff Buckley and countless other gifted artists taken from us before their time, Seth's death seems somehow apt and befits the legacy of what he has left us described within the well thumbed pages of 'Homeboy'.