Meeting the Minotaur

December 30, 1996
Like the grossly obese protagonist of Dawson's memorable last novel, Body of Knowledge, the hero of this ambitious and fascinating narrative is one of nature's anomalies. As a result of a childhood illness, Taylor Troys has lost his equilibrium; periodically the world spins and throws him askew. Moreover, he is an outsider in the genteel society of Bernice, Tex., because he was born out of wedlock and never knew his father. Taylor's quest to uncover the secret of his paternity and his own true place in the world is patterned on the Theseus legend, but quite subtly; this is a decidedly contemporary narrative whose characters include drug smugglers and illegal immigrants, American corporate giants and their Japanese counterparts. The settings range from the slums of Dallas to its high-tech skyscrapers, from the Yucatan jungle to the border barrios of Mexico, and end in the secret underground lair of a Japanese daimyo. Dawson can write scenes that are as taut, gritty and violent as those in the best noir thrillers. By the middle of the novel, Taylor has killed a man, rescued his best friend from death and discovered his father, who is involved in a mysterious pact that obligates him to pay human ransom to a Japanese industrialist. Taylor's decision to offer himself as an apparent sacrificial victim takes him into the heart of a modern labyrinth, an underworld of revenge, corruption and betrayal. Although Dawson makes persuasive parallels between Greek mythology and the modern world, the novel lacks coherence. The first half, in which Taylor prepares for his heroic search by learning burglary methods and becoming involved in the drug culture, rings true with tension and atmospheric detail. The second, in which Taylor breaches the strongholds of corporate power, is surreal and melodramatic, presenting a jarring contrast with the tone of the previous section. Even with its flaws, however, this is the work of an intelligent writer who is a gifted storyteller.

June 1, 1997
Novelist Dawson (Body of Knowledge, LJ 8/94) has fashioned a cunning but only partly successful retelling of the ancient tale of Theseus, set in the present day and spanning three continents. Taylor Deeds is a young man triply out of place: born a bastard, taller by a head than everyone else around, and afflicted from childhood with an inner-ear condition that has destroyed his sense of equilibrium. Setting out to find his unknown father, Taylor drifts into a hallucinatory underworld of stone killers, illegal aliens, and drug smugglers. Thus far, this pleasantly exotic novel is believable and forcefully plotted. Once Taylor finds his father, a Texas wildcatter turned magnate, the plot begins to go astray; soon all credibility leaks away at the seams. To protect his father, Taylor places himself in bondage to his father's implacable enemy, head of a powerful Japanese cartel. Taylor's quest takes him to a modern Labyrinth where he encounters and must deal with a modern Minotaur. The novel's ending is neither plausible nor all that interesting, held hostage by the exigencies of paralleling the myth. Still, Dawson possesses strong narrative and descriptive gifts; the book merits reading.--David Keymer, California State Univ., Stanislaus

July 1, 1997
If Hollywood can transport Romeo and Juliet to Miami's streets, why not bring Theseus to the seamy hinterland of south Texas and the Minotaur to modern-day Tokyo? Dawson ("The Waking Spell" [1992] and "Body of Knowledge" [1994]) somewhat improbably transplants the timeless Greek myth to the Texas border towns of her own backyard and to the back alleys of Mexican cities. Taylor Deeds is the accidental hero with a head condition that causes him to lose his balance unpredictably. A six-foot-six, clumsy 20-year-old in search of his father, he is elevated from a marginal life with seamy characters to do battle for his golden fleece with the Minotaur, here a Japanese corporate titan, ensconced in the metaphorical labyrinth of Japanese culture and the maze of Tokyo's side streets and unnumbered buildings. It's interesting. ((Reviewed July 1997))(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 1997, American Library Association.)