Review at new Harrogate festival blog You're Booked

The Deputy – Victor Gischler

BY ANN, ON NOVEMBER 18TH, 2010

Reviewer: David Speer

The Deputy by Victor Gischler, Tyrus Books

I’m tempted to call Victor Gischler a Renaissance man. In at least two ways. Maybe more.

One. He’s the writer of all sorts of things. His debut novel, and one of my favorites, “Gun Monkeys,” was nominated for the Edgar Award. You may be more familiar with some of his other novels — the ones with the clever titles like “Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse” and “Vampire a Go-Go.” He also writes comic books, Deadpool and X-Men and others. There’s Twitter talk sometimes about a screenplay. And if you do follow him on Twitter there’s the occasional feature called “Ask Gischler” where he offers to answer any and all questions. Note I said he offers to answer them. I’m not sure he ever answers anything.

Two. When I said Renaissance man, I was thinking more of a typical man who lived during the time of the Renaissance. The kind of man whose life was nasty, brutish, and short. One who learns that life has a noir underbelly. Who rolls life over on its back and says, “Come over here and look at this. Is that cool or what?”

The kind of man who could write “The Deputy” (Tyrus Books). The kind of novel that could make you to want to go out and clean up a town.

“The Deputy” is about Toby Sawyer, who the local police chief lets work as a part-time deputy so that Toby can make something of himself. Toby is a deputy in Coyote Crossing, Oklahoma. Take Washington D.C. out of the competition (after all, it’s in a class all by itself), and Coyote Crossing could be in the running for the title of the most corrupt town on Earth.

At its core, the story of “The Deputy” is a western movie of the type we’ve all seen or heard hundreds of times. It takes place in a town that needs one good man to clean it up. But Toby is not Shane of the movie or Marshal Matt Dillon of TV’s Gunsmoke. He’s not Dashiell Hammett’s Continental Op. And he’s surely not Lee Child’s Jack Reacher. Because Toby sure doesn’t set out to clean up a town. He just wants to love his son, have a good woman by his side — or with him in bed — and find the missing body of Luke Jordan so he can go home and get some sleep.

But Toby is a guy who can’t manage to do one thing right. Or the easy way. So, naturally, when he goes about cleaning up Coyote Crossing, he does it in a really messy way. Given that chance to make something of himself, Toby goes out of his way to screw up. Given the seemingly dead-easy task of guarding the freshly killed body of one member of the town’s most notorious trouble-making family, Toby wanders off to have sex with his girlfriend. His girlfriend who is not his wife and not the mother of his child. Who probably is not going to be the good woman by his side by the end of the book. Or even by the end of the night.

And believe it or not, it goes downhill from there.

Gischler’s genius is that he makes us want good things to happen for Toby. No matter how stupid he is. And he is. No matter how violent he is. And he is. No matter how much of a screw up he is. And he is. We like Toby. We root for him to win. We want him to clean up Coyote Crossing, even though Gischler has shown us over the course of 249 pages that this ass-end-of-nowhere town is not worth cleaning up. We want Toby to win even while we’re questioning whether what he’s winning is really worth having.

It might just take a real Renaissance man to make us want that.