Roadkill Review: Motel Life

The movie version of Willy Vlautin’s first novel, Motel Life has just opened on selected release in America. To celebrate that and to bemoan the fact that, so far there has been no UK release date announced, I thought I would post my review of Motel Life, which first appeared at Out Of The Gutter earlier this year.

Set in Reno, Nevada in the 1990’s Motel Life is the story of two Brothers, Frank and Jerry Lee Flanagan.  Orphaned at an early age the brothers live a marginalized life of dead end jobs, low rent motel rooms and TV diners washed down with bargain bin liquor.

When Jerry Lee accidentally kills a kid in a hit and run they make a bad situation worse and run away. The brothers take flight to Oregon and dream of living a better life with Frank’s damaged ex-girlfriend, Annie James; only to find that no matter how hard you try, you can’t out run yourself. 

There is an echo of Steinbeck’s Mice and Men here and perhaps also a nod towards the bleak existences portrayed by Denis Johnson in Jesus’ Son. The Motel Life is noir in its most literal sense. It provides a dark and heart breaking commentary on alcoholism and suicide as it charts the downward spiral of people forced by circumstance to play out a losing hand.

Willy Vlautin’s prose is sparse and at times almost child like in its directness. But he writes with such compelling honesty that any minor grumbles about his simplistic style or his stifled character development are swept away by the sheer power of his narrative.

Motel life is not going to be for everyone and it is fair to say there are more accomplished and articulate renderings of America’s third world citizens out there. But for me, there is something wonderful about the naivety of Vlautin’s work that I just can’t shake off. This book still haunts me years after I first read it and in spite of its flaws, I still wish I had written it.

Motel Life is and always will be one of my favorite books. I want to love the movie too. Maybe I will if it ever gets aired on this side of the pond. 

 

Roadkill Review: Northline by Willy Vlautin

Willy Vlautin is the front man of an alternative country band called Richmond Fontaine; he has also to date written three novels. Heard of him? Nope, I didn’t think so.  

Northline is Willy’s second novel, but it was the first one that I actually read back in 2008. I must have read it at least a dozen times since. Like his music Willy’s books speak of loners, losers and the disenfranchised.

“I've decided I really am gonna be moving North. Like I always wanted. Just draw a line and go. A Northline.”

Allison Johnson, fleas Las Vegas and her abusive boyfriend intent on making a new life for herself in Reno. But she is haunted by her past mistakes and it’s fair to say she’s damaged goods. Her only comfort comes from the imaginary conversations she has with the actor Paul Newman, and the characters he played in his movies.

This is at times both a grim and desolate book. Alison’s story is one of self harming, bad choices and low self esteem and it breaks my damn heart every time I read it. So you might well ask why do keep coming back? I do it simply because this is the most haunting thing I have ever read.

Willy Vlautin’s style is sparse, simplistic and at times very direct. If you read some other reviews of his work you will find people talking of lack of depth and clunky progression. They have a point, but fuck ‘em, none of that matters.  It’s all about the story and the humanity that bleeds through Vlautin’s writing.  

You will find more accomplished books out there, but I doubt you’ll find a more honest and compelling one.