Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, March 27, 1994 TAG: 9403200176
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: D4 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Reviewed by ROBERT RIVENBARK
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then William Baldwin has, in his novel "The Hard to Catch Mercy," paid tribute to nearly every Southern writer in the traditional canon.
In recounting the misadventures of the eccentric Allsons, a post-Civil War family fallen on hard times, Bladwin has trotted out a truckload of Southern set pieces. Narrator Willie T. Allson, Baldwin's version of Tom Sawyer, lacks the native cunning and humor of the original. "Uncle" Jimmy, Willie's cousin, is a poor-man's Huck Finn.
The other Allsons comprise a gallery of Gothic stereotypes: Willie's brother Brother (that's actually his name) predicts the future through dreams; Grandpa Allson is a cantankerous patriarch who bemoans the loss of his father's slaves (the book takes place in 1916); Willie's mother is a long-suffering belle; Maum Anna, the family retainer, is a mystical ex-slave who channels supernatural forces for her adopted white clan.
Had Baldwin used a fresh approach with these traditional characters, he might have breathed some life into them. Instead, he presents us with a tiresome episodic narrative that begins with Willie T. losing his cow in a South Carolina marsh.
The story lurches through Willie's abortive love affair with Amy Mercy, a swamp girl who dies an untimely death, and several nasty encounters with The Hard to Catch Mercy, Amy's brutal brother, who blames her death on Willie. Interspersed throughout are various incarnations of Uncle Jimmy, who can't make up his mind which profession to follow; Willie's experiences working in a dry- goods store; several natural disasters; and supernatural doings involving Maum Anna and Brother.
Baldwin undoubtedly intended the book to be humorous, but the tone is sentimental rather than funny. He strains to make us care about his characters, dropping hints that they are dancing out a great cosmic drama, but the narrative never quite manages to point to a meaning beyond itself.
Southern writers have always used humor and the grotesque to uncover life's deeper layers. Baldwin has certainly read his masters, but hasn't yet learned how to transform their techniques into a personal vision.
\ Robert Rivenbark is a Blacksburg writer.
by CNB