ABRAHAM'S BURDEN

Crew’s debut novel deftly explores the Native American experience in Washington State but stumbles in its attempt to unite identity politics with elements of the police procedural and courtroom drama.

Charlie, an alcoholic Vietnam veteran recently estranged from his wife, struggles against his transformation into a stereotypical drunken Indian. He finds temporary solace in political activism but takes a hard turn to the bottle after fending off a cougar during an unlucky camping trip. Following a drinking binge, Charlie is credibly framed for the murder of a congresswoman whose anti-Native American legislation Charlie had protested. He then finds himself at the mercy of a prejudiced jury. With an eye for meticulous detail, Crew provides generous descriptions for characters, actions and settings, though his zeal for blow-by-blow activity borders on glorifying the banal. While characters’ motives sometimes seem oversimplified, these individuals believably inhabit a living, breathing Northwestern landscape–the author’s mastery of the geography and its people is clear. His authorial craft, though, is still in question. The book regularly delivers instances of heavy-handed symbolism–when Charlie’s wife leaves him, a picture of the couple smashes to the ground in the wake of a slamming door. The unfortunate moments of purple prose unfortunately jerk readers rudely out of the story: “The delicate globes of optic flesh searched the room…” The largest misstep is a mortifying sex scene that serves little purpose in terms of plotting but reduces the plausibility of the characters involved. Still, the book is often a compelling–even gripping–read.

Flawed but promising stab at crafting a telling mystery.