Harry Crews didn't have an idyllic childhood. He grew up poor, with a stepfather who was a "brutal drunk" in the hardscrabble world of backwoods Georgia. He discovered the world when he went into the Marine Corps and has said he was never without a book during his tour of duty in the early 60s. He struggled to become a writer; wanted it more than anything and lost his family as a result of trying. He puts his past and his memories into writing some of the most vicious, violent books you can imagine. But he does it with a sense of wrathful humor. His books are like car accidents or train wrecks. Every page is a disaster you can't look away from. A Feast of Snakes is no different. I would not recommend it for the faint of heart but if you're willing to wade into a world of rattlesnake hunting, whiskey swigging, baton-twirling cheerleaders, and brutal dogfights, you'll find a unique voice you can't shake, no matter how hard you try. Prepare to be sickened and awed.
A Feast of Snakes by Harry Crews, pp 177
Kim F
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