E.O. Smonk is the roughest, meanest sumbitch to ever hit the small town of Old Texas, Alabama. It's 1911 and this dirty, syphilitic one-eyed rapist is brought to trial for his many misdeeds. The bloodbath that follows is what Tom Franklin's third book Smonk is all about.
Franklin, the acclaimed author of Hell at the Breech and Poachers (read them both, because they're both brilliant), continues his winning streak with what is just about the most violent, profane and offensive novel I've read in years. In other words, I loved it.
During the trial, Smonk and his men unleash hell on Old Texas, killing nearly every man in town. One of Smonk's former henchmen, Will McKissick, takes off after the killer in attempt to bring him to justice. Meanwhile, a 15-year-old prostitute named Evavangeline with a body count all her own is on the run from a posse of Christian deputies, who end up chasing the whore all the way to Old Texas. It's here where Smonk and Evavangeline's stories cross, and that's when the fun really begins.
Smonk is pretty much what I imagine the result would have been if Sam Peckinpah and George Romero had ever teamed up to make a western. Throw in a dash of Jerry Lewis slapstick comedy, and you've got Smonk. It's definitely not for the faint of heart, but those who can take it will find themselves richly rewarded.
If you get the chance, please vote on my entry in the Crime Writer's contest:
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