The story of Winston 'Tuffy' Foshay, a disadvantaged young man immersed in New York's underworld, who mends his ways and embarks on an outlandish political campaign, appealed to my sense of social justice. Furthermore, the setting promised to delve into the most thriving and dynamic musical culture we have heard from in recent decades; hip hop, a chronically under used context in literature. Reviews heightened expectations with endorsements of Beatty's characterisation and use of dialogue.
I could not have been more disappointed. Had those reviewers spent their lives reading telephone books or DIY instruction manuals? Surely, only that kind of material could make someone welcome this work with anything but derision.
The plot is plagued by gaping chasms. The heist that opens the proceedings could not be further removed from reality if it had been penned by Terry Pratchett. What follows is based on the events that transpired there. Sadly, the meandering narrative does nothing but ascend to higher realms of implausibility.
The much vaunted dialogue is so manufactured I'd swear Beatty produced it in a factory. Littered with meaningless profanity, we quickly become desensitised to any deviation in mood or atmosphere. A deadly argument can and is easily misconstrued for a jocular exchange.
The characters enlisted in this contrived episode are, without exception, mind numbing. Even Tuffy lacks any humanising features. He seems to merely be a vehicle for Beatty to espouse his knowledge of world cinema, a trait of Tuffy's that every other character shares our disinterest in.
Beatty uses flashback heavily to introduce new actors, yet after ploughing through paragraph after paragraph of pedestrian drivel, we are brought to a complete irrelevance where we had no desire to go in the first place.
I had hoped Tuffy's foray into the world of electioneering would highlight the hypocrisy that besets modern politics. Maybe even hint at the similarities between Tuffy's criminal past and his political present. By the time the novel (eventually) reaches this point, I have lost all hope of such nuanced insight. Nevertheless, I had expected something better, and far more responsible than what followed. Tuffy's "hysterical" campaign consists of an agenda so childish and ill-considered it makes Veritas look like a reasonable ballot choice.
This book had the potential to achieve a great deal, and do so in an entertaining way. Instead, it can only be considered a hindrance to the worthy causes it disastrously collides with.