Lord of Misrule

Rather hard to read with its over-artful style. ( )

From the opening metaphor of the hot-walking machine at Indian Mound Downs to its final pages, this novel is filled with characters, human and animal, whose lives intersect in dramatic encounters. The setting is the world of horse racing. Like the plays of Shakespeare or the novels of Dickens when they portrayed the lower classes, the story is set in the small time backwater of the claims stakes with bit players, the subculture of grifters and ne’er-do-wells whose lives center on a venue that obviously has never and will never bring them success. They include the handlers, owners, and wannabes along with gamblers, backers, and assorted hanger-ons. They have names like Two-Tie, Medicine Ed, Kidstuff and Deucey, and they’re capable of speaking a kind of racetrack patois occasionally reminiscent of Damon Runyon characters: “So I want you should write me a race, well, not me personally, fellow from Nebraska, kid I used to know back when—actually I used to know his mother…She was very good to me. Alas, I fear I did not return the favor like I should have.” At the center of the novel is Tommy Hansel, a horse trainer with a get-rich-quick scheme that he feels cannot fail. He plans to enter “sure-fire” winners in claiming races, benefit from the long odds, then get out of town quickly. "I tell you a secret, horse racing is not no science."(p 83)
'Nothing, of course, goes according to plan, especially since everyone seems on to his scheme, and the horses aren’t as cooperative as Tommy would like them to be. Complicating the issue is the quirky, intelligent Maggie Koderer, new to the horse-race business but nonetheless Tommy’s love. Maggie is college-educated but is drawn to the seamy underbelly of the track and the broken-down beauty of the horses.

The best aspect of Jaimy Gordon's fine novel is the portrayal of the racing milieu. The atmosphere is a presence that is strong enough to smell. The characters are developed through small vignettes through which their personalities gradually emerge. Gordon structures the narrative around the four horses and she seamlessly moves the reader from one narrative consciousness to another without being manipulative or intrusive. The races themselves are described with a tour de force of energy and spirit. The exceptional writing and idiosyncratic characters give the reader entry into another world and make this a delightful, engaging, and even award-winning read. ( )

Back in Roman days, the Lord of Misrule presided over the celebration of Saturnalia, a holiday during which the ordinary rules of life were subverted - masters served their slaves, wives and husbands switched duties, etc. If there is a theme in this novel – and you have to look hard to find it – it’s how casually (and sometimes cruelly) the lives and expectations of humans are subverted by the ultimate Lord of Misrule, fickle fate.

Appropriate that a story about the subverting of “sure things” should be set at a racetrack. What setting better lends itself to a tale of people needing desperately to believe they can exert some control over fate, only to discover otherwise? Tommy Hanson, the story’s reagent, believes he can make a fast buck running ringers in a series of cheap claims races – only to see his best-laid plans thwarted right out of the gate. (Pun, sadly, intended.) Maggie, Tommy Hanson’s girlfriend, carelessly indulges her penchant for violence and risk by hooking up with Tommy, confident that she can control whatever chaos ensues – only to find herself in a situation that she genuinely cannot control. Medicine Ed, an old groom at the dead-end racetrack where Tommy and Maggie wash up, believes his “goofer dust” can “magic” horses into winning – but finds himself paying a terrible price when he tries to use it. Meanwhile, various mobsters operate (mistakenly) under the arrogant delusion that they have the power to predetermine the winners of races; a rather decent gentleman by the name of Two-Tie believes (mistakenly) he will be able to protect his niece Maggie from herself (in the process redeem a mistake he made years before – which doesn’t happen either); a female jockey believes (mistakenly) that she can “sing” a washed-up “could-have-been” champion into winning; all of which culminates in a final stakes race in which fate truly has the last laugh, orchestrating the most improbable of all possible outcomes (which, don’t worry, I won’t spoil here, but be sure to appreciate the glorious chaos and irony of Gordon’s big finale when it comes). Ultimately those characters that learn to bow to the whims of fate survive, while those who insist on trying to control their own destiny come to bad ends (madness, death), and fate spins on, unflustered and unrushed, God’s eternal hot-walking machine.

I mention that the book really is “about” something, because the vast majority of favorable reviews I’ve read don’t even mention the plot, focusing almost entirely on the story’s “Runyon-esque characters” and the author’s “unique voice” – both of which I found so off-putting, I very nearly didn’t finish this. With apologies to the National Book Award people, are you guys sure you weren’t so dazzled by Ms. Gordon’s literary furbelows – her faux-authentic racing lingo, her nervy use of dialect, her flashy shifts in point of view (including whole chapters narrated in second person – there’s something you don’t often see), her fearless embracing of physical and spiritual ugliness, her disdain of quotation marks and other textual conventions – that you neglected to notice that extent to which these flourishes make the book laborious to read and distasteful to digest? Yes, I appreciated the humanity of several notable characters (especially Medicine Ed, the one and only reason I’d ever read this again); I understood the inherent nobility of the horses, selflessly sacrificing their sinews (though never their dignity) in the cause of a sport they didn’t create; and I “got” Two-Tie’s sacrifice. But even these weren’t enough to offset the sense of general “yuckiness” left behind by the loathsomeness of the imagery (too much violence, bondage, humiliation, blood, snot, sweat and stench!) and the moral turpitude of majority of characters in the story; my annoyance over the lack of quotation marks and having to wade through such dense dialect; or my frustration at the author for sacrificing good storytelling to the Gods of Modernism (or perhaps to the National Book Award gods, in this case).

Am not sure I’ve ever read a book over which opinions were so polarized – half the people loving it, the other half loathing it. I’m willing to come down somewhere in between – but having said that, I definitely won’t be recommending this to friends and am not sure I’ll be reading anything else by Gordon in the future. This felt way too much like work for way too little reward; too much frosting over too little cake, if you will. Literary critics and book prize judges will have to fawn over her next tome without me.

A Damon Runyonesque story about horse racing - some of those horses are treated well, many are not. This book was long listed for the Orange Prize but I didn't find it profound. I did finish because it kept me interested enough to know what happened, but one could lead a long and happy life without it. Female masochism is never appealing to me. ( )

It is always a bonus when a work of fiction is able to teach about something about a world to which some readers have had no previous experience. Lord of Misrule did this for me, introducing me to a world of horseracing that I never knew existed. Set in the 1970's and taking place at a run-down, small-stakes track and stable operation in the boonies of West Virginia, Misrule tells the story of a group of track employees: downtrodden, but innately loyal to their employers and the horses who must rely on them, their bosses: mostly unethical, money-obsessed men who call all the shots, and finally, the horses themselves (including one whose name is the title of the book): subject to the whims of the people who own and keep them, and unfortunately "saddled" with the responsibility of making money at the expense of their health.

The various dialects, the lack of quotation marks, the lack of spacing between lines of character dialogue, and Gordon's changing points of view require a bit of acclimation and close attention. However, her characters are well-developed, and their speaking patterns and interests are quite individualized, so that it is possible to get to know them well enough that many readers will be able to identify each speaker within a few words. For some, however, this style will be off-putting, and they will not want to put in the time and effort needed to understand.

Gordon's knowledge of small-time horse racing and attention to detail is impressive. I can only imagine the amount of research a work like this required. And, even though the story includes realistic portrayals of the abuses and suffering of both horses and people, the book remains as objective in its stance as it can. Yes, one can tell the "good" characters from the "bad" ones, even if flaws and worthy traits can emerge in both, but Gordon avoids easy resolutions. This is the story about lives lived, not fortunes made. It is the memorable characters, and poignant emotions evoked by the tale, that make this novel worthwhile. ( )