Daddy's Gone A-Hunting: A Wesley Farrell Novel (Wesley Farrell Novels) - Softcover

Skinner, Robert

3.56

16 ratings by Goodreads

9781890208448: Daddy's Gone A-Hunting: A Wesley Farrell Novel (Wesley Farrell Novels)

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1890208442 ISBN 13: 9781890208448

Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press, 2000

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Robert Skinner has written three books in a series that takes place during the Depression in New Orleans. He selected the Depression because of stories family members told him about living during that time and how it affected them. To him, ""the '30s represent America's last romantic age.' Even so he is cognizant of how difficult this time period was for those at the low end of the economic spectrum.
Because his books are hard-boiled, protagonist Wesley Farrell had to be an outsider. So Skinner made Farrell a black man passing for white, something that was unacceptable in New Orleans at the time. In the first book of the series, SKIN DEEP, BLOOD RED, the reader learns about his deception in the denouement. But Farrell continues to hide his race from almost everyone. He wants to help other blacks, but he also fears losing everything he has.
Farrell is a gambler and bon vivant. He gets involved in a very complex series of problems partly because he is depressed. Savanna Bealieu, the woman he would like to love, has left for California, and Farrell goes looking for trouble to put her out of his mind. He lives on the ""borderland between the respectable and the criminal.' He responds to cries for help but there is violence at the core of his soul and he is ambivalent about his race. Outwardly comfortable in both the black and white worlds, he is, in reality, uncertain about where he wants to be. He dreams of marrying Savanna, but knows he would lose everything if he did. So the violence of New Orleans suits him just fine.
First a prominent black businessman is murdered and then a man who has served 10 years in prison for armed robbery returns to town. The situation grows morecomplicated as another black businessman disappears and the black owner of a club asks Farrell to help him fend off a gangster who wants to take it over. There are several subplots in this book which all come together in an electrifying climax.

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About the Author:

Robert Skinner has degrees in history (Old Dominion University) and library science (Indiana University) and studied creative writing at the University of New Orleans. He's widely known for his non-fiction writing on the career of African-American novelist Chester Himes and on the American hard-boiled crime story. He's the author of two previous Wesley Farrell novels, Skin Deep, Blood Red, (1997) andCat-Eyed Trouble (1998). He makes his home in New Orleans where he's University Librarian at Xavier University of Louisiana.

Review:

""Jazz is cool. Jazz never sacrifices its identity even when incorporating whatever is interesting and timely. Jazz's defining characteristic is improvisation, often collective improvisation. Jazz is considered by many to be America's greatest contribution to music, its mother the grand city of New Orleans, its DNA the experiences of early African Americans in formidable times and frustrating situations. Jazz begins, like most music, with a set of notes or riffs, short rhythmic, melodic lines either repeated to create a main melody or used as the impetus for solos. Jazz continues with a series of improvisations and innovations (jazz for mistakes), exploring and embellishing seemingly effortlessly as the piece evolves.
Skinner is cool. He's written jazz. More impressive, he's written jazz as a mystery novel, though in truth the two might go hand in hand. The exact origins of jazz, even its name, are as much a mystery as where ex-con Ernie LeDoux's money is, why prominent black men are the victims of foul play in Depression-era New Orleans, and what ex-prostitute Carol Donovan is up to at the Original Southport Club.
In the early part of the century jazz stretched to cities like Chicago where it evolved in harmony with the Windy City's character, singling out instruments more, such as the saxophone. In New Orleans, jazz remained collective, yet allowed for individuality. It's apt then that Skinner begins his great jazz performance with a collection of characters, each a distinct set of notes, warming up slowly, growing more complex with each measure. He plays each character's riff for three, four, five pages at a time. The pace meanders, is tentative. Where will the notes lead?Skinner teases the audience. Characters make impromptu decisions, improvise, fascinate. Skinner seduces his audience into subliminal swaying to a subtle rhythm. It's steady, sultry, and progressive: Wesley Farrell, night club owner, questions threats made to Carol and her club, Sergeant Israel Daggett investigates the murders, Ralph Daniels runs for his life, Savannah (Wesley's ex-girlfriend) attempts to begin her life anew, cocaine sniffing Archie Badeaux bullies, beats and kills people, humoring his boss, wheelchair-bound gangster Jonathan Lincoln. With every scene, Skinner writes characters' lives and the atmosphere of 1930s New Orleans in clear, sharp, often haunting, sometimes plaintive tones.
Describing a pop song is easy: three major chords, 4/4 time, upbeat tempo, two stanzas, AB rhyme pattern, and a catchy chorus. Describing jazz? Not so easy. Describing the plot of a formula mystery novel is easy. Describing Skinner's plot? Not so easy. What's a reviewer to do? Stand up and give a hearty applause. This novel is great jazz, a collective set of stories, each taking its leisurely turn unfolding to a complete and satisfying end, one which may be traced backward or forward to discern a neat linear path, but one which is richer for not doing so.
Skinner has written an impressive piece, and if you're not convinced, imagine these words issuing from a saxophone: A beautiful Negro woman of about thirty came though the doors of the Cafe Tristesse like she owned the joint. She was five-and-a-half feet tall, with skin so pale brown it was no darker than a suntan, shoulder-length jet black hair, and eyes like obsidian. The only makeup on her fine-featured face was lip rouge the colorof ripe plums. Dressed in a pale yellow dress, yellow sling-back pumps, and a yellow hat that was like gold ornamentation on a queen, she was enough to make a Baptist minister drink swamp water, crawl inside a hollow log, and bay at the moon.-- Reviewed by Jean Porath at MysteryNet.com) 1999""

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