Book Review: Running The Light

We live an age where the metaphorical veil is easily pulled back on many of the darker sides of life for those who wish to peak behind it. In the age of the omnipresent and unrestricted internet, there is a raw, unfiltered confessional available for every walk of life. So it it that this biting and bleak story of self-destruction, addiction and the realities of life on the road that blurs the line between reality and fiction doesn’t feel quite as revolutionary as it might have a few decades earlier. But, despite this, the author earns lives up to his name as his talent for evocative and engrossing writing is on full display. An unflinching odyssey into the depths of depravity that will surely entertain those of strong stomachs and a worthy entry into the illustrious ranks of gonzo journalism style narratives.

As a young man, I remember stumbling upon the works of the literary outlaw Hunter S. Thompson and being blown away. His gonzo journalist ravings were like a slap to the face after a decade nestled inside the comfortable embraces of academia approved literary cannon and epic but predictable pages of Tolkien inspired fantasy. Following that trail, I delved into a whole world of gritty, raw authors and their works that formed the modern literary counterculture along the lines of Palahnuik, Vonnegut, Bukowski, etc. Despite being well removed from that particular time in my life, reading Sam Tallent’s Running the Light reminded in no small part of that period and transported me back to a time when I was full of angst and fervor for anything unconventional and controversial.

What Tallent does so well in this novel is force you to inhabit the mind of his main character, Billy Ray Schafer. An aging comedian with a heavy substance addiction and an unavoidable affinity for self-destruction, Billy is not a sympathetic protagonist in any traditional sense. He fends off any sense of empathy the reader might develop nearly instantly, usually choose to move through the narrative and face each fork in his path by choosing the lowest possible road. His self delusions are presented not in a manner to make the reader believe them, but rather as a deeply unsettling glimpse into what it is like to actually be a selfish addict trying anything to avoid facing the truth of their situation.

While this sort of narrative is not for the faint of heart, it does create an engrossing sort of spectacle that is hard to look away from, much like a house on fire. And while not wholly original in its concept or execution, it is elevated by Tallent’s clear ability as a wordsmith. His pace and prose alternate between being breathtakingly punchy and intricately purple to truly earn their place beside the style of authors like Thompson that he is so clearly inspired by. Definitely worth reading for those enjoy their stories with razor sharp edges and their comedy black as burned truck-stop coffee. But be warned, you might need a serious pallet cleanser to reset your mood after this one.