Review: "Rails Under My Back" by Jeffery Renard Allen

I don’t say things like this lightly, but I don’t think I have come across a book that put more effort on the page than Jeffery Renard Allen’s singular debut novel Rails Under My back. I have read difficult, ass-kicking texts, some I have enjoyed, like Infinite Jest and House of Leaves, some not so much, like The Recognitions and anything written by Thomas Pynchon. But what this novel has over those is an immediate sense of hard work and humility. In those previous books, there was always a literary eyewink hidden in the text and a sense that the writer was showing off, but not here. This novel took eight years to write, and you can see the struggle on every page, the care put into every sentence, every line of dialogue and every word, its meticulous structure, and even though this book’s heart will always be a little foggy and vague, its execution and summation of its thematic elements. It tells the story of two brothers, Lucifer and John Jones, who marry two sisters, Gracie and Sheila McShan, as well as the history of both of those families. In the introduction, provided by National Book Award-winning author Charles Johnson, he quotes Allen as having wanted the narrative to move in all directions, up and down, back and forth and sideways, so themes can carry on through various scenes and set pieces. It is a hard book to follow, much like the difficult novels of William Faulkner, where time’s linear structure is pulled apart, and the line between the past and memory is frayed, evidenced by a brilliant opening scene, which focuses on a basketball game being played by Jesus Jones, the wayward son of the equally wayward John, both of whom are the arguable center of the novel. It is a brilliant scene that I’d compare favorably to the opening of DeLillo’s Underworld. It’s a big ass book, with all 563 pages guaranteed to make you sweat, but it is totally worth your while to check out this forgotten masterpiece of the early 21^st century.

Rating: 4/5