The Huntsman

Terrell's novel of racial relations in Kansas City involves us in a convoluted tale going back to the big war, World War II. After this war, most cities and states in the USA took some steps toward improving racial respect and harmony. Fighting along side members of different races somehow showed American soldiers that racial justice could be achieved. But not in Kansas City. Not in the South. Many Missourians fought on the side of the South in the Civil War and racial prejudices evidently died hard. Terrell's novel focuses on one moment in the war which haunted his characters years later in contemporary Kansas City. But the clarity of this supposed racial incident, described by Terrell, involving a court martial and hanging of a black soldier was left quite murky. Who actually had committed the rape in France? The reader never finds out concretely. And without concrete prejudice by the white commander in France, what we find in Terrell's novel is a shared guilt for the blacks and whites involved. However, when this tale of the court-martial returns to Kansas City, the uncertainty surrounding the hanging is fed by distrust, long-simmering inequities, fear of miscegenation, and a propensity for incest. So, is Terrell's book an indictment of Kansas City's racism or is it a circumlocitious tale of warped sexual indiscretion and betrayal? It's both, and Terrell's writing style somehow mimics the attitude of the elite women of the city who ignore both the incest and the inter-racial sex resolutely until those evils, hopefully, just go away. Terrell's attitude toward miscegenation can be found in his epilogue, maybe as his way of showing his own solution to the racial divisions and desegregation in Kansas City. "Finish what you start," Terrell seems to urge.by Larry Rochelle, author of DEATH & DEVOTION, BOURBON & BLISS, TRACETRACKS and DANCE WITH THE PONY.

A robust and ambitious novel, The Huntsman offers its readers more than just a gripping and carefully crafted plot about a murdered debutante whose lily-white body washes up on the banks of the Missouri River. The "who done it?" question is quickly eclipsed by far more substantial, and less easily answered, questions about history (both personal and political), blame, culpability, and restitution. One of the suspects in Clarissa Sayers's murder is Booker Short, a young black man who has arrived in Kansas City seeking Mercury Chapman, the aristocratic white man who commanded the regiment of black soldiers in which Booker's grandfather served during World War II. The despotic Isaac Bentham has schooled his grandson in a family mythology that both demonizes Chapman and places him in Bentham's debt. Motivated by an undefinable sense of guilt as well as his own altruistic impulses, Chapman offers the destitute Booker a caretaker's job at his hunting club outside of town. It is there that Booker meets and consummates his relationship with Clarissa, the daughter of another club member, but the more significant relationship develops between Booker and Mercury. Separated by race, class, and generation, these two men grapple with the slipperiness of historical "truth" and explore the consequences of compensatory gestures as they attempt to understand the ways in which their lives are intertwined. In the hands of a less gifted writer, such themes might result in a pedantic narrative, too weighty to be truly engaging. But Terrell is able to captivate his readers with his finely wrought descriptions of the midwestern landscape and his rich characterizations of not only Mercury and Booker, but also numerous peripheral characters, many of whom, one hopes, will turn up in Terrell's future novels about Kansas City. Ultimately, this book suggests to me that adopting a forensic or juridical stance toward race and class relations--simply trying to get to the bottom of who did what to whom and what punishment should be meted out--will be a fruitless pursuit. The relationships between victims and oppressors, blacks and whites, rich and poor are too complex and dynamic. What is needed are difficult, uncomfortable conversations about the different ways in which we all view the past and how we might work together to build a better future. A brave novel, The Huntsman is likely to produce such evocative and important discussions.

The Huntsman is an impressive first novel from an obviously talented new writer. A book with Midwestern sensibilities and Southern charm, The Huntsman weaves a number of stories into one with unparalleled grace. The focus of the story rests on the relationship between a young Black man (Booker Short) and two members of the White social elite in Kansas City--the daughter of a judge (Clarissa Sayers) and a quirky but well-respected war veteran (Mercury Chapman). Short's interactions with these two people change not only his life, but also the lives of all those with whom he comes into contact. The relationships are genuinely complex--there are no heroes and no villains, only round, robust characters. Deftly crafted, the reader enjoys the journey of the novel as much as the destination: Terrell beautifully details the numerous landscapes he presents us (geographical, political, social, personal). I recommend this novel highly to a wide variety of readers: those interested in a sophisticated, literary mystery; those who are concerned about race and class in our society; and those who would like to be introduced to a rising star in the world of fiction.

Whitney Terrell delivers a book difficult to pigeonhole or quantify in this his first novel. Is "The Huntsman" it a mystery? In the sense there is a murder, yes. Is it social commentary? In that it deals unblinkingly with the nature of racial relations, yes. Is it a coming of age story? A buddy story? A love story? Police procedural? Noir? Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, and yes. Which is why this book is so engrossing. Terrell blends genres without drawing attention to them. He does it capably despite this being his first title. "The Huntsman" starts a little slowly, admittedly. You have to plug through roughly the first quarter of the novel before seeing it take off. But when he gets it in gear, hang on; he's tanked with high octane and burning nitro. The story turns on the life of Booker Short, a young black man with reasons to be bitter. Betrayed by family and friends, he ends up in Kansas City, Missouri, a city with a clear racial division, and strikes up a relationship with Mercury Chapman who served as the white commander of the black truck and transportation company Booker's grandfather served with during World War II. As a caretaker at a small hunting club, Booker comes into contact with a young white woman -- daughter of a prominent federal judge -- and they become a couple. Her body is fished from the Missouri River near the hunting club, and Booker quickly becomes a suspect. Some reviewers may dwell on the racial aspects of the novel. Don't let that dissuade you. Terrell doesn't preach; he coolly reports. And his approach is dispassionate; a telling of a story that spans half a century, two continents, and all the divisions that have occurred in the years since Brown vs. Board of Education. He has a marvelous vocabulary, communicates effectively, and is a master and scene-setting and dialog. Two minor criticisms. The story starts slowly. It appears Terrell expends a great deal of time re-writing and re-casting his story. The first few dozen pages have a wooden, re-worked feel to them; as we delve deeper, though, the book becomes more lively and engaging, probably because the number of re-writes is fewer the deeper we get into the novel. Second is the casual way in which Terrell plays with law enforcement procedures. Kansas City detectives range far outside their jurisdiction with little attention to the limitations to their authority. A minor point, noticeable only to those within the law enforcement community. Even with those small blemishes, it's still a marvelous story, well worth the investment of your time.

This new novel is much more than a gripping thriller. Terrell is a gifted writer with a strong and imaginative literary voice. The characters are unforgettable. I especially liked the way Terrell imparted his knowledge of sports, country club demeanors, and overall Kansas City life to the reader. I had trouble putting The Huntsman down.