Politicians like to refer
to "criminals" as though they were a separate breed, but in John Brandon's
debut novel, Arkansas, the network of low-level drug traffickers crisscrossing the
American southeast are all ordinary folks who sort of fell into crime. Swin
Ruiz, a Vanderbilt dropout who's spent his whole life underachieving, becomes a
courier in order to fill the time until he can write his first book and get
fast-tracked back into academia. He's partnered with Kyle Ribb, an Athens,
Georgia townie who compromises a strong work ethic with his violent temper and
disdain for authority. Shortly after Swin and Kyle meet on a run, they get
relocated to a state park in Arkansas, where they work under the supervision of
a ranger who moonlights as a business manager for a mysterious drug lord known
as "Frog." None of these people knows each other's history, or what they might
be capable of. Theirs is an organization built on unearned trust and sacks full
of money.
Brandon splits Arkansas between the third-person
story of Swin and Kyle—told in short sentences, packed with curt
descriptions of the thrift stores and ethnic restaurants where they conduct
their business—and the story of Frog, which Brandon tells in second
person. The voice-switch encourages readers to identify with Frog, a
keen-witted badass who seems to know exactly what he's doing, and to look
askance at the two young heroes, who seem dedicated to squandering any advantage
life might hand them. The problem is that Frog is a more engaging character
than Swin, Kyle, or any of their friends and associates, and after a while,
readers may feel the urge to flip past the tedious "and then this happened"
recounting of the dope-ferrying life in order to learn more about how the
cautious, clever Frog built a criminal empire in the sticks.
Still, even though Arkansas sputters as it motors
along, Brandon does give vivid descriptions of the scenery, capturing the look
and feel of neglected small-town storefronts and the featureless flatness of
interstate travel. More importantly, Brandon gets at the particular combination
of restlessness and laziness that would make an otherwise sensible person turn
to crime. The characters in Arkansas are smart, handy folks who could do just about
anything. In the end, the possibilities overwhelm them.