Rocky Mountain Rage

It won’t take you long to finish Tim Johnston’s “Descent” (Algonquin, 2015).

Johnston published a young adult novel a few years ago. He borrowed a YA structural trick to give the finely written, thrilling “Descent” irresistible propulsion – short chapters with cliffhanger endings. In airport fiction, this would be an annoying gimmick. But Johnston rewards the reader’s attention with drama and subtlety.

The story follows the Courtland family after the eldest child, Caitlin, disappears somewhere in the Rocky Mountains.

Channeling Andre Dubus’ eye for an ethical dilemma, Johnston asks whether trauma excuses a man from the restraint required of ordinary people. Caitlin’s father threatens another character after her disappearance:

“For a time,” he said, “I would see a man and follow him. It could be any man, going about his business. I’d watch and I’d follow, driving sometimes to the man’s very house. I couldn't help myself.

[…] That’s how I’m fixed with God. If he will not give me my daughter back, then he owes me one bad man. And you want to know the hell of it? The hell of it, Billy, is that I don’t give a damn any more if it’s the right bad man. I have reached a point where any bad man will do.”

After losing a child, a father may well succumb to helpless rage. But should he? Johnston raises such questions, but he doesn’t dwell too long on them. His understated depth is one of this book’s strengths.

Johnston’s soft touch also pays off in the novel’s grimmest moments. There’s not much gore in the book. It will repulse you, regardless. You may need to take a break from reading – but good luck stopping altogether. You won’t be able to.