Samaritan

December 2, 2002
Nobody does urban grit better than Price—or so it was said in the '90s upon the publication of Clockers
and Freedomland. Price's first novel in four years doesn't belie that claim, but it isn't his best, despite some wonderful writing. Most impressive are the characters—and not only the principals, Ray Mitchell, a white TV writer recently returned to his predominantly black home city of Dempsey, N.J., only to wind up in an ICU with a crushed skull, and Nerese Ammons, black, Ray's childhood friend, now a cop determined to find out who swung the vase that put Ray down. The supporting characters, too, are blazing with life, as is Price's rich evocation of Dempsey's blasted cityscape. It's the plotting that's relatively weak. The novel is woven of two chronological strands, one starting with Ray's time in the ICU and focusing on Nerese's investigation, the other beginning with Ray's arrival in Dempsey and emphasizing his troubled relationship with his alienated wife and daughter; with his new girlfriend from the projects, Danielle; and with himself—for Ray is a self-loathing former cokehead whose desperate need for approval clouds his judgment time and again. The binary plotting is interesting, but a bit gimmicky and doesn't help the book's pace, and a narrative turn near the end involving Ray and his daughter feels contrived. Since Ray's need for approval prevents him from telling Nerese who conked him, the book is basically a whodunit. Few readers will guess the real culprit: is it Danielle's jealous jailbird husband? The erratic street artist Ray is supporting? Danielle? The questions will hold readers' interest but not seize it, and while many will enjoy as well as admire the novel, most won't be blown away by it. 150,000 first printing; simultaneous Random House Audio.

January 15, 2003
As the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished. It is a harsh lesson that Ray Mitchell learns, much to his regret. A successful white writer for television, he has come back to the predominately black New Jersey housing projects where he grew up. While trying to reconnect with his alienated teenage daughter, Ray volunteers to teach a writing class at his old high school. When he is found brutally beaten, his head crushed, Detective Nerese Ammons decides to find the culprit as a return favor to Ray; they are old acquaintances from the neighborhood, and Ray once helped her out when they were children. But Ray's refusal to identify his attacker doesn't make her job easy. Price's seventh novel returns to the gritty, decaying urban world of Clockers and Freedomland; once again, his characters are fully fleshed-out human beings, his dialog sharp and true. And Price's take on the nature of generosity (is the giving for the benefit of the receiver or the giver?) is a fascinating one. Like Nerese, however, readers will become impatient with Ray's "selfish selflessness"; the guy is basically a jerk. A dark, depressing novel for larger collections. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 8/02.]-Wilda Williams, "Library Journal"

Copyright 2003 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

Starred review from November 15, 2002
Price (" Freedomland," 1998; " Clockers," 1992) wastes no time starting his story: Ray Mitchell, an Emmy-nominated TV writer who returned to teach pro bono at his old high school amid the projects of Dempsy, New Jersey, has had his head bashed in. Nerese Ammons, a cop 10 weeks from retirement, takes the case personally because of a good turn Ray did her when they were children. But Ray, deteriorating in the hospital, doesn't want to tell her who attacked him. Why not? And why has Ray, a compulsive do-gooder, had such wrong done to him? As Nerese's investigation moves forward, Price deftly fills in the past so that each new revelation is charged with significance. And because Price is not just a gifted writer but also one who thinks long and hard about human behavior, when we learn the answers, we understand why they are complicated. We know from page one, though, that we're in good hands, with masterful detail, vivid scene-setting, and acutely observed, naturalistic dialogue. The crime-solving framework pulls us forward but is unencumbered by the pedantic detail of a police procedural, and the depth of the characterizations is magnificent: Ray, Nerese, and the considerable supporting cast are fully imagined beings who surprise us but never test our credulity. Enmeshed in this taut storytelling is a meditation on the complicated nature of giving and a caution that, with ill-considered charity, we can hurt others even when we think we're doing them a favor. Superb.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2002, American Library Association.)