Putnam Books, 2018

REVIEWED BY GABINO IGLESIAS

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An author known for his or her horror chops switching to crime fiction would be an intriguing development and something that would make readers wonder about the end result. In the case of Laird Barron, that was not the case. Barron is one of the most talented voices in contemporary fiction, and switching genre only means he gets to flex a different set of muscles. After reading Blood Standard, however, I’m ready to make a declaration that will send horror fans running for their pitchforks: I’d be perfectly happy if Barron only gave us Isaiah Coleridge novels for the rest of his career.

Blood Standard kicks off in Alaska, where Isaiah Coleridge works as an enforcer for the mob. He is big, bad, good at violence, and covered in scars that speak of a life spent hurting others and getting hurt in equal measure. Despite his hard exterior, there is a soft spot inside Isaiah, and that leads him to put a brutal end to the moneymaking scheme of a made man. The move makes him a dead man walking, but Isaiah has enough contacts in the game to stay alive, at least for a while. Beaten and unemployed, he finds himself exiled to a farm in upstate New York. Surrounded by animals and empty space, Isaiah begins a new life, one that is very different from the one he’s used to. Unfortunately, the peace is short-lived. When a teenage girl disappears, Isaiah tries to help, and that throws him back into the underworld he’s called home for most of his life. What follows is a maelstrom of action, crooked FBI agents, mafia dealings, Native American gangs, and secret agendas that hits all the right noir notes while offering a special combination of humor, hear, and mythology that could only have come from Barron.

The first thing that should me mentioned about this novel is that Barron did his homework before sitting down to write it. On the surface, this is a wild, action-packed, entertaining narrative about a man who is simply not built to stay out of trouble. However, once you scratch the surface, you’ll start finding a plethora of deconstructed/reconstructed noir and thriller elements. Yes, Barron left a few mobsters in sharp suits, the booze, and the high and tight haircuts in there, but he changed everything else. For starters, his main character is not white and he’s very educated. Also, there is a underlying discussion of how situations differ when filtered through Otherness. In other words, this is a narrative that is as concerned with big themes as it is with shedding plenty of blood, looking at a strange angle in terms of righteousness, and entertaining readers.

Isaiah Coleridge is a special character. He comes from a troubled past and has left many bodies along the way, but he is a good person. He is also a man whose scarred fists are as impressive as his intelligence, which is a rare thing in contemporary crime fiction. In a way, Barron used his literary interests to bridge the gap between his previous writing and his crime debut by showing that we are all still in contact/interaction with archetypal and classic narratives:

“The Odyssey,” I said. “It’s the precursor to Heart of Darkness. The sea voyage with all the evil kings and monsters, and screwing of sea nymphs and lonely witches. The revenge against the suitors. I was an angry kid. Revenge appeals to teenagers. I admired Odysseus, but my heart went out to put-upon Polyphemus. Trespassing Greeks eat his mutton and drink his wine, stab him in the eye, and sale of merry as you please. The other Cyclops laughed. He got a raw deal. That said, I’m still more in Camp Hercules than Camp Odysseus.”

While Coleridge is reason enough to make this a recommended read, the rest of the things Barron does well push this novel into must-read territory. He understands the poetry of violence and is not afraid of gory descriptions of it. The dialogue is superb, matching the humor and electricity so far found almost exclusively in conversations between Joe Lansdale’s Hap and Leonard characters in their famous series. Lastly, there is the writing itself. Barron is a household name because he can spin a tale in a unique way and his writing is always top-notch, and that is once again in full display here:

“I returned to my meditation and visualized our vehicle as seen from the eye of a crow. So fragile and insignificant amidst the thunder, the rushing wind, and the infrequent strokes of lightning. Three men connected tenuously by loose affiliation and camaraderie were headed directly into the belly of the beast on behalf of a young woman none of them called blood. I bore witness to a strange and wondrous event that felt suspiciously like a miracle. Rain dappled skull patterns upon the glass. That omen concerned me not a whit. I opened my mouth wide and took in several gulps of oxygen.”

If you mixed together the best violent portions of the John Wick movies, the almost inscrutable nature of vengeance as it is dealt with in Greek mythology, the tension and darkness that has always characterized Barron’s horror writing, and the sine qua non elements of all best-selling thrillers, you’d only begin to approximate what Blood Standard has to offer. The rest of it is worth discovering by reading it, which is something you should do as soon as possible.