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Flashes of brilliance help novel
Book Review
By Derryll White
Ferrigno, Robert (1990). The Horse Latitudes.
This is Robert Ferrigno’s first published novel. The trade magazines described it variably as “noir and nasty”, “a noir South California morality tale of sex, drugs and money,” and “a perfect suspense.” None of them said: “don’t read this book.”
It is a little slow in starting. There are a number of characters to figure out and place in the story, and the story itself isn’t quite clear. Ferrigno catches a lot of mood, however, letting the reader in on the high life of the successful dope dealers in the Los Angeles scene. He also gives peaks at the U.S world of privilege and power.
The noir side of this novel is portrayed in specific violence. Ferrigno gives lots of context and mood, but the violence still gets into the reader’s brain, causes moments of reflection and despair. We do not live lightly on this earth.
The author is very good at character development. Even the minor players stick in the reader’s mind. They are unique, overblown in some instances, but each leaves an imprint, even the one paragraph skinny man pouring a thin line of catsup on each fry as he nibbles it.
In the end the story falls apart somewhat. Ferrigno tries too hard to tie everything up and the reader is left with a contrived feeling. I did really like the way the author played off the title, having Danny the main character jettison people and desires as he drifted in his own personal terror. ‘The Horse Latitudes’ is not as tight a story as Ferrigno’s second novel, ‘The Cheshire Moon,’ which was previously reviewed here. The strength of the second one indicates perhaps that he improved as a writer as his career advanced. Certainly there are flashes of brilliance in this first novel. I will say that, having read the first two, I will certainly keep looking for Robert Ferrigno’s third book.
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Excerpts from the novel:
MORALITY – Lauren was right. They crossed a moral landscape without boundaries or markings. The maps didn’t match the terrain but there was nothing else to go by.
“That night” – she looked directly at Danny – “I was Ixtab, goddess of ropes and snares.”
RELATIONSHIPS – …There was a sadness to him that had never been there before. Men always got that look when they were dumped. Women could have a good cry with their girlfriends and get it out of their system, or at least hide it with makeup. Men always looked like wounded bucks, Surprised at the hurt of it.
PRIVILEGE – Jaguars and Bentleys, Mercedes sedans and Rolls Corniches lined the lot – there were no stiff-suspensioned sports cars at Andre’s. In a world of potholes and detours, these people demanded insulation from light, motion, noise and worry.
SCENE – The room felt sour and unhappy. All the framed Vogue covers on the walls, the ballet posters, and eco furniture weren’t going to change that.
LOVE – The conversation with Eilene had knocked him off balance, her loneliness triggering his own, filling him with a longing so acute his teeth ached. No one died of a broken heart. God didn’t want to put people out of their misery. Solitary confinement, that was the sentence.
DEATH – Danny’s attention was on the coffee table at the center of the room. The center of the rug. The coffee table was cut from a single slab of rose quartz, polished to a translucent glow shot through with veins of silvery mica. The table was the ultimate crystal radio set able to beam in the death broadcasts from hell, to fine-tune the worst nightmare and bring it on home. And it had.
Blood had puddle on the pink quartz and run down the sides onto therug. The coffee table radiated pain; it set the whole room buzzing.
– Derryll White once wrote books but now chooses to read and write about them. When not reading he writes history for the web at www.basininstitute.org.
