Quick Thoughts

3.75 ⭐

This was okay/pretty good. I could see why it doesn’t sit well with some readers, as it is basically a gritty, crime, action movie with unlikeable characters in book form, and that requires a specific audience.

While I love a revenge story, this didn’t hit the notes that I enjoy in a revenge plot as much. Longer thoughts on what stood out/what I thought below. (Not my typical review style, but I took points I nixed adding to the forum and just dumped them here)

Southern Noir and Unlikable Characters

So, this is my first Southern noir. S.A. Cosby and Karin Slaugher have been on my TBR for way too long, and I know they are both recognized as powerhouses in the genre. (S.A. Cosby is literally referred to/known as the modern King of Southern Noir.) But outside of knowing this is a subgenre of crime fiction, I didn’t know much.

And before I started reading, I wanted to get a better sense of the genre, and in addition to a brief stint at YouTube and Wikipedia University, I found the following interesting articles: Southern Noir; The Rise of Rural Noir; Y’all Means All.

What stood out to me was that the genre often focuses on themes of poverty, racism, and violence, is known for its hard-boiled cynicism, and centers on morally ambiguous characters. There aren’t heroes, and the characters live in the gray (at best). I know this book got a lot of flak for its main characters being so problematic, and yeah, cringe. But that’s the point, and not just for the sake of being problematic/unlikeable and not as a reflection of Cosby.

Through the characters and the setting and their background, racism, homophobia, prejudices against ex-cons, etc., are being critiqued. Ike and Buddy Lee aren't meant to be people you root for; they're not heroes. They are products of the environments and cultures that shaped them, and the ugliness they carry is the whole point. Southern Noir doesn't clean that up or ask you to look away. It puts it front and center because that is how you're invited to reckon with it.

The discomfort is the critique. If these characters were likable and easy to sit with, the commentary would have no teeth. The genre has always used deeply flawed, often morally reprehensible people to hold a mirror up to systemic and cultural failures, and Cosby is doing exactly that here.

And look, it is completely valid to not want to spend your reading time with characters this difficult. That is a personal preference, not a moral stance. But not wanting to read it is different from the book being problematic. Cosby is not his characters. A writer giving voice to racism and homophobia on the page is not the same as endorsing it, and the whole architecture of this book is built around interrogating those exact things.

Side note: In my YouTube University studies, I ran across Cosby’s interview/appearance at the 2023 National Book Festival. He’s discussing All the Sinners Bleed (which got added to the TBR after this interview), but I think it’s such a great discussion. They get into Southern Noir vs. Southern Gothic and genre stuff around the 13-minute mark. A peek at how Cosby explains Southern Noir: “I think it’s just this idea of crime fiction that takes place in a place where you can’t get away from the people you’ve hurt.” This part of the discussion isn’t long; this was just my favorite video of the ones I watched.

Other Elements of Southern Noir

Moral ambiguity is the most prominent “hallmark”/genre staple. Not to belabor the point, but Ike and Buddy Lee are not heroes/moral pillars. They are doing something arguably righteous but through methods that are brutal and outside any legal or ethical framework. Survival and revenge are driving them far more than justice.

Based on what one article said that the hallmarks of the genre are, I jotted some more thoughts on how this book fits in the genre:

• Family, history, and legacy: This is clearly a big part of the novel, since the plot is propelled by the murder of their sons/the loss of their legacy. Also, in terms of family history and relational legacy, neither Ike nor Buddy Lee ended things on a good note with their sons and have to grapple with knowing they failed their kids/pushed them away because of their homophobia. We also have Gerald/Gatsby/the Culpeppers driving this point home, as the whole reason Gerald wanted everything quiet was to protect his name/legacy (hypocrite he may be because you preach one thing and do another), and legacy is probably what drove them to even want to run for governor. And family is just at the center of this story, from the people Ike and Buddy Lee call on to the chosen family Derek and Isiah had to Mya and Christina and Ariana and even in a twisted way the Rare Breed.
• Setting, sense of place, and weight of the land: The poverty, the backroads, the working class grind of it all functions the same way a swamp or bayou would in a more traditionally Southern setting. It is not glamorous or escapable. And there’s weight in how they live in land as ex-cons and as black and white men in the MAGA south.
• Corrupting influence of power: Present, though maybe not major. The people pulling strings behind the murders are connected to money and protection, and the system is not going to deliver justice on its own. That is precisely why Ike and Buddy Lee have to go around it.

Great Representation of the Genre. Great Book?

Like I said, I love a revenge story. The Glory, chef’s kiss! She Started It, loved watching you end it, though. They Never Learn, but you made sure they learned in the end, sis. However, this story made me realize I enjoy revenge stories where we know who hurt us/who wronged us, and we have a plan to take them down. This was a lot of us hunting down Tangerine and trying to piece together what happened and hurting anyone who got in the way of us finding the truth so we can get revenge. And I am not a huge action/fight scene reader.

Also, while Buddy Lee and Ike are on their journey to be less problematic, I do not know how effective/how much I valued the “lesson” portions of the book.

Writing Style

The writing wasn’t my favorite at times. I wouldn’t say it is purple prose, but there were metaphors and language that felt misplaced/awkward. I would be interested to hear a bit of the audio, since people mentioned lines that read weirdly seemed natural/flowed well.

A pro for how this is written: the chapters are short, and if you like to try to read to the end of a chapter before stopping, you, like me, will love that.

Who Is Revenge for?

My siblings and I love yelling “Aveeengeee meee!” as a callback to my forever Spiderman, Toby Maguire, specifically Green Goblin yelling this at Harry, over like small inconveniences/as a joke.

One critique I’ve seen a lot about Razorblade Tears is that Buddy Lee and Ike say the revenge is for their sons, but really it’s for themselves. And no, Derek and Isiah aren’t yelling out like Green Goblin demanding to be avenged. But I don’t think it has to be either/or. Why can’t they be doing it mostly for themselves but also for their sons in a way?

I can’t help but think about Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds, which is a novel-in-verse that takes place entirely in an elevator in the 60 seconds it takes to get from his floor down to the lobby, as he is set to go and get revenge for his brother's murder. Will, the 15-year-old protag, talks about “the rules,” especially the idea that you avenge whoever you lose. That book is very explicitly critiquing that mindset and the cycle it creates, but it also understands how real and ingrained those rules are. They’re not easy to just…opt out of.

Buddy Lee and Ike feel like they’re operating under those same rules, just in a different context and with even more baggage. They’re ex-cons who have lived violent lives even outside of prison, and revenge is something they understand. It’s almost like the only way they know how to do grief. So when they say this is for their sons, I don’t think that’s a lie. I think that’s genuinely how they’re framing it to themselves.

But at the same time, they’re not oblivious. They know their sons were better than them (kinder, more open, more capable of love in ways they struggled with). There are moments where it’s clear they understand their sons might not have wanted any of this, that all this violence in their names is kind of…misplaced. But some rules/ingrained responses are hard to avoid.

So yeah, part of this is for them. It’s about guilt, anger, needing somewhere to put all of that. But it’s also about love, in the only language they really know. And like Long Way Down, it ends up circling back to that bigger question: what does it actually mean to follow the “rules/community codes”? And what does it cost to honor or break them?

Long Story Short

I do plan to read more Cosby. All the Sinners Bleed sounds up my alley, and I think, even if they are similar, the dive into the religious critiques will be intriguing.

PS. If you actually read all of this wow. Thanks.

I was very excited about this one! I, of course, have seen it everywhere online and multiple people in my book club read and recommended it. Then, the one one-page prologue hooked me and got me more excited.

I was excited for a taut legal thriller, a complex puzzle of a marriage gone wrong that sprinkled in elements of family drama.

That excitement ended pretty soon, and I embarked on a rage read (like reading even though you're mad/annoyed just so you can leave a review, since I don't review DNFs).

The novel's descent begins almost immediately, propelled by a series of baffling and improbable decisions made by nearly every character. Adam's perspective, in particular, was a gross and frustrating slog that did nothing to build sympathy or tension.

More egregious than the unlikeable characters, however, were the plot points that felt entirely unearned. The big "Bob reveal" is a prime example, a moment that was supposed to be a satisfying twist but instead felt like a convenient coincidence, a perfectly placed piece of the puzzle that the narrative never bothered to earn. It was a "gotcha" moment without the necessary buildup.

Then, there were the plot holes! How did she stab someone 39 times and not have to change? Why was she never questioned/considered a suspect? Her assistant is so clueless about time that she never questioned why on their night out she was gone for hours nor questioned when they arrived and left? Adam was so out of it that he got out of bed and wrote a note but never noticed Jenna/Kelly? Sarah's marrying Bob and no one is questioning that even if it's 11 years later? Why were Sara and the Sheriff flirting and so on and off for no reason? Why did we not see a lick of the trial? (That one isn't a plot hole but I thought I'd ask.)

Sarah being the killer and plotting with Bob/the whole epilogue wasn’t a clever red herring; it was a gaping plot hole that made it impossible to suspend disbelief and ruined any chance of a shocking reveal.

And it's upsetting because the premise was so intriguing, but the nonsensical/one-note characters, weak/telegraphed twists, and odd character choices (how could I forget Adam randomly deciding to escape custody, going and kissing on the reporter we barely know, and no one telling Sarah he skipped bail until he was back in custody?!), ruined it for me.

As it stands, this is one series I won't be continuing. If you read this far, thank you for indulging this rant. Sorry, it got so long.