A WALK THROUGH FIRE

A Deep South town erupts during the Civil Rights period in this ambitious third novel (after Cobb's Hermit King, etc.—not reviewed). Hammond is as segregated as any other Alabama town in 1961, but Eldon Long, pastor of its biggest black church and a follower of Dr. King, plans to change all that. His chief antagonists are the Mayor—banker Mac McClellon, anxious to preserve Hammond's image of racial calm—and Rooster Wembley, one-legged barber and Klan leader. Man-in-the-middle is O.B. Brewster, a local hero because he was once a professional ballplayer. O.B. has a farm- implement dealership with a largely black clientele; he is the only white man Eldon trusts, and the pastor is prodding him to run against Mac. Two white SNCC volunteers arrive; a lunch-counter sit- in is tense but peaceful. Then a boycott of white-owned businesses begins, and O.B. hurts badly; the turning point comes when he returns to his country roots, grasps the meaning of love-thy- neighbor, and decides to run for mayor. So far, so good; Cobb's people may be players in a racial drama first, individuals second, but the battle-lines are cleanly drawn and O.B.'s conversion is powerful and moving. Then, however, Cobb overloads his story with a torrid love-triangle involving Eldon, his wife Cora, and O.B., and with a wildfire romance between O.B.'s daughter Ellen and SNCC volunteer Paul, which triggers a near-fatal back-alley abortion for Ellen and the abduction of Paul and his fellow-activist by the Klan. Paul escapes, and all credibility is shattered when he hides in O.B.'s house for a month undetected. The sure touch Cobb showed earlier disappears completely in a last-minute flurry of arrests, breakdowns, and deaths. When Cobb is good (his taut confrontations, his quieter moments showing old people sitting around being old), he is very, very good; when he is bad, his writing dissolves into clichÇs. A maddeningly uneven work.