It's interesting that while reading The Line That Held Us I thought of Flannery O'Connor's famous story A Good Man is Hard to Fine. Turns out that David Joy wanted to write a book as if William Gay and Flannery O'Connor co-wrote McCarthy's Child Of God. He wanted to create a "bad guy" as memorable as Lester Ballard, The Misfit, or the Paper-Hanger.

I think in Dwayne Brewer he gets pretty darn close. I'll explain.

Joy’s third novel, “The Line That Held Us,” is another amazing work of Appalachian noir/Southern Gothic storytelling. It begins with Darl Moody, a hunter who sneaks onto a neighbor’s land to poach deer out of season. When he accidentally shoots and kills a ginseng poacher after mistaking him for a boar, Darl calls his best friend, Calvin Hooper, to help dispose of the body.

Unlike Joy’s earlier protagonists, these men aren’t connected to the local meth trade, the source of so much violence in “Where All Light Tends to Go” (2015) and “The Weight of This World” (2017). But Darl and Calvin have another problem: the dead ginseng poacher’s older brother, Dwayne Brewer, is a megalomaniacal villain straight out of a Coen brothers movie.

What is interesting about Dwayne as an antagonist is he is sort of sympathetic (to a degree - you sympathize with him losing his brother) and he lives by a strict sense of moral codes. He was done wrong and believes those guilty of wronging him should pay. At the same, Dwayne in many ways is the quintessential negative Appalachian stereotype. He is a confederate flag-loving guy. He shops at Wal-Mart. Etc. Throughout the story, Dwayne grows into a very despicable character but he is sympathetic because his actions are driven by his sorrow and love for his brother. Was it weird that I sympathized with his pain? I'm not sure.

To say anything else would be to spoil the suspense of the story. But know that the ending had me on the end of my seat!

“The Line That Held Us” is a suspenseful page-turner, complete with one of the absolutely killer endings that have become one of Joy’s signatures.
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The author has chosen to leave the Appalachian meth and addiction world behind with this book, The Line That Held Us, but the lyrical, poetic beauty of his writing is 100 percent present.
For me this book was not as good as his to previous books. There wasn’t enough character development of anyone but Dwayne who is quite likely crazy, and who is the central evil in the book. The book certainly touches on a number of religious themes and morality but I don’t think this type of story was where to try this. I also was disappointed with the way the story ends.
Great writing but not as good of a story as either of his other books. ( )

The Art of Violent Coercion

David Joy’s novel is a thriller mostly in the sense it contains many thrilling moments, but turning a metaphysical question on the purpose of our lives into an exciting gallop through reductive reasoning, as his novel does, is quite a feat. The answer to the question you’ll have about the meaning of the title comes in the last pages, uttered by Dwayne Brewer bent on cohering Calvin Hooper to his will and his succinct view of all that matters in life.

The story unfolds in the extreme southwestern tip of North Carolina, Jackson County, in the Appalachians, Joy’s home turf. The terrain’s roughed, the locals tough, and the living and people hardscrabble, none more so than Dwayne and his brother Carol “Sissy” Brewer. We don’t see much of Sissy, apart from his corpse, yet he works as the force that propels his brother on his path of revenge.

Darl Moody has been hunting down a tree-horned buck for weeks and one night he thinks he has him, or at least a wild hog. In fact, he mistakenly kills Sissy, then corrals his best buddy Calvin into helping him move and bury the body so that he doesn’t have to face the wrath of Dwayne, who like all Brewers, but even more so, has a reputation for brutality. Of course, Darl and Calvin, but especially Calvin, make some pretty bad choices here. It doesn’t take Dwayne any time to suss out the culprits.

While the tale is simple enough, the characters, particularly Dwayne and Calvin add texture and complexity. For his part, Calvin’s a man with problems, both business and relationship. He’s betwixt and between, especially regarding his relationship with his live-in girlfriend, Angie Moss. Can he move ahead with the relationship? What is important to him? This poor fellow just can’t get a good night’s sleep.

For Dwayne, the answer to the latter question is straightforward. Only his brother Sissy gives meaning to his life. Watching over and protecting Sissy from everybody who mocks him for his giant facial birthmark and his slowness comprises the full meaning of Dwayne’s life. Or, at least the good and caring part, because resentment, anger, and righteous punishment make up his main motivation. His idea of equality is transferring all the pain and anger that consumes him to others; he achieves equanimity when others feel his pain in measures that exceed his own. Early on, Joy gives us a scene wherein Dwayne intimidates and humiliates a teen who has just done the same to an innocent boy trying to buy a pair of shoes at Walmart.

Further to Dwayne’s character, by his own claim, he has read the Bible scores of times, and quotes from it, bending, truncating, and embellishing King James to his righteous will. If he believed in a god, it would definitely be of the angry and vengeful type. Which is to say that whenever Dwayne is on the scene, the novel is immensely engaging, and he’s on the scene the majority of the time. Not likable, perhaps, but infinitely fascinating as a Bible pounding preacher is.

In this part of the country, the land molds character and is itself a character, which Joy renders beautifully. He’s writing about his home, what he knows, and it shows in every sentence, adding another compelling dimension to the novel. You’ll be glad you opened it.
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The Art of Violent Coercion

David Joy’s novel is a thriller mostly in the sense it contains many thrilling moments, but turning a metaphysical question on the purpose of our lives into an exciting gallop through reductive reasoning, as his novel does, is quite a feat. The answer to the question you’ll have about the meaning of the title comes in the last pages, uttered by Dwayne Brewer bent on cohering Calvin Hooper to his will and his succinct view of all that matters in life.

The story unfolds in the extreme southwestern tip of North Carolina, Jackson County, in the Appalachians, Joy’s home turf. The terrain’s roughed, the locals tough, and the living and people hardscrabble, none more so than Dwayne and his brother Carol “Sissy” Brewer. We don’t see much of Sissy, apart from his corpse, yet he works as the force that propels his brother on his path of revenge.

Darl Moody has been hunting down a tree-horned buck for weeks and one night he thinks he has him, or at least a wild hog. In fact, he mistakenly kills Sissy, then corrals his best buddy Calvin into helping him move and bury the body so that he doesn’t have to face the wrath of Dwayne, who like all Brewers, but even more so, has a reputation for brutality. Of course, Darl and Calvin, but especially Calvin, make some pretty bad choices here. It doesn’t take Dwayne any time to suss out the culprits.

While the tale is simple enough, the characters, particularly Dwayne and Calvin add texture and complexity. For his part, Calvin’s a man with problems, both business and relationship. He’s betwixt and between, especially regarding his relationship with his live-in girlfriend, Angie Moss. Can he move ahead with the relationship? What is important to him? This poor fellow just can’t get a good night’s sleep.

For Dwayne, the answer to the latter question is straightforward. Only his brother Sissy gives meaning to his life. Watching over and protecting Sissy from everybody who mocks him for his giant facial birthmark and his slowness comprises the full meaning of Dwayne’s life. Or, at least the good and caring part, because resentment, anger, and righteous punishment make up his main motivation. His idea of equality is transferring all the pain and anger that consumes him to others; he achieves equanimity when others feel his pain in measures that exceed his own. Early on, Joy gives us a scene wherein Dwayne intimidates and humiliates a teen who has just done the same to an innocent boy trying to buy a pair of shoes at Walmart.

Further to Dwayne’s character, by his own claim, he has read the Bible scores of times, and quotes from it, bending, truncating, and embellishing King James to his righteous will. If he believed in a god, it would definitely be of the angry and vengeful type. Which is to say that whenever Dwayne is on the scene, the novel is immensely engaging, and he’s on the scene the majority of the time. Not likable, perhaps, but infinitely fascinating as a Bible pounding preacher is.

In this part of the country, the land molds character and is itself a character, which Joy renders beautifully. He’s writing about his home, what he knows, and it shows in every sentence, adding another compelling dimension to the novel. You’ll be glad you opened it.
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David Joy has quickly risen to the top of my favourite authors list. His world is dark and downtrodden, his characters always broken and flawed and beaten down by life, but with a small glimmer of hope still in their restless souls.

His observations of life are wonderful. His plots deceptively simple. And his writing is sublime.

He's similar in tone to John Hart, with some Dennis Lehane thrown in for good measure, but he's darker and grittier than both.

And he's not predictable. While I was able to figure out some of the plot points, Joy also surprised me at a couple of spots, and that's always a good thing, providing the surprise is logical while still remaining unexpected.

I'll read anything this guy puts out now. ( )