A crime writer, on the South
Gloucester’s S.A. Cosby reflects on notions of Southern identity. See “Blacktop Wasteland” and, now, “Razorblade Tears.”
Several times while I was reading S.A. Cosby’s stunningly poignant and brutally profound novel “Razorblade Tears,” William Faulkner’s short story “Barn Burning” came to mind. It’s about class conflict in the South and the indisputable paternal loyalty a father impresses on his son, the “old fierce pull of blood” that binds them for better and for worse.
Although Faulkner’s story focuses on the bond between one father and son, Cosby’s novel is about two fathers, one Black (Ike Randolph), one white (Buddy Lee Jenkins), both ex-cons, whose lives are torn asunder when their sons, married to each other, are murdered on the pavement in Richmond, leaving a young granddaughter neither of them knows well.
Both fathers suffer a soul-rupturing grief that exposes the fractured relationships they had with their sons. That “old fierce pull of blood” may not have transcended the fathers’ homophobia while their sons were alive, but with their deaths it fills both with an “unquenchable, implacable vengeance.”
Cosby’s highly acclaimed debut, “Blacktop Wasteland,” gave readers a unique take on a caper novel set against the backdrop of systemic racism and souped-up cars. In “Razorblade Tears,” the Gloucester author gives readers a unique take on a revenge narrative, one propelled by furious action and two incredibly authentic and compelling main characters.
Ike has “bucked the system,” beat the odds. He owns his own home and his own landscaping business. But his nonexistent relationship with his son means “he doesn’t know enough about Isiah’s life” to make sense of things he uncovers in the investigation.
Buddy believes his son, Derek, was ashamed of his dad’s trailer park lifestyle, his milk crates for furniture, outlaws for family, and a grandmother who “was Jesus all day.”
While almost every encounter Ike and Buddy have with others during their investigation erupts in violence (their “muscle memory” as cons takes over), Cosby has structured each confrontation to reveal Ike and Buddy’s breathtaking sorrow and mind-numbing regrets. Throughout the novel, Cosby’s cinematic prose brilliantly balances Ike and Buddy’s brutality with their grief-filled moments and memories that are tender and heartbreaking.
Initially, revenge and regret bind Ike and Buddy, but as their investigation propels their granddaughter and families into the sights of a white supremacist gang and reveals a connection between their sons and a mysterious woman, both men come together in unexpected ways, finding redemption for their sins as fathers.