The Wake of Forgiveness by Bruce Machart

I did something this week that I have never done before: I finished the last page of a novel and immediately turned back to the first page and read the whole book again. Here's why -- I wanted to study how Machart did it, how he took a story that is a little hackneyed and sometimes illogical and turned it into a family epic of mythic, almost biblical, proportions, one that is written in such a way that the reader is compelled to race through it at breakneck speed, much like the speed of the horse race that is the centerpiece of the story. It's been a good long while since I was this impressed by a book.

It's the story of the Skala family, four motherless sons raised by a harsh and brutal father who works his boys like animals, using them as plow horses while the actual horses are saved for racing. When a rich Spanish patriarch proposes a high stakes race that offers the three oldest a chance for escape into lives (and beautiful wives) of their own, the stage is set for brother against brother and father against sons. The story then shifts to fourteen years later, when Karel, the youngest son, must finally come to terms with his legacy of revenge and violence.

So how did Machart do it?

First and always, it's the language, the immediacy and the specificity and most of all the very rhythm, the cadence. It is every bit as good as, and sometimes better than, anything Cormac McCarthy ever came up with, to which it is somewhat similar. The accounts of the horse race, the epic fight between father and sons, and the coupling of Karel and Graciela are as impressive as anything I have ever read.

The time shifts are also genius, as Machart jumps back and forth between 1895, the year of Karel's birth and his mother's death; 1910, the year of the horse race; and 1924, the year of forgiveness. This allows him to skip the day-to-day and concentrate on the particulars. Along with the time shifts, Machart switches tenses, with the 1895 and 1924 pieces in past tense and the 1910 pieces in present tense. I actually didn't even notice this the first time through, but I can see now that the present tense gives the principal events much more immediacy and drama.

In addition, the details are right. The dialogue is pitch perfect for the time and place, South Texas in the early 20th century. The sights and sounds and smells and weather of the area are so vividly described that the reader feels he has actually been there.

Although this novel was published in 2010, I had never heard about it until lately when I just happened across mention of it in a blog by another eager reader. I can't imagine why it didn't win one of the major literary prizes that year. It is that good.

And, oh yes, the book includes a good many references to Shiner beer, still the best beer ever. A person could have a real good time by drinking a Shiner every time it is mentioned, making a good book even better.