The Rift by Walter J. Williams

The Rift by Walter J. Williams [NY, Harper – Prism, 1999] Halfway through the novel, The Rift, I was so enthralled, I got up and made some notes. Between the last few books I’ve read where there are multiple lines for the plot, huge cast of characters, history, and jumping back and forth, I got a little tired of novels where this concept was not well–executed. I started reading Williams’ work — buying the expensive hardback versions of each new novel — because I was hugely impressed with one of his early work, Hardwired — and many of the subsequent novels. So far, I’ve never been let down. I also always considered him a Science Fiction writer, but The Rift doesn’t really fall in that category. In fact, it’d marketed under the name Walter J. Williams so it wouldn’t be cataloged with his other genre work, under the name Walter Jon Williams. There aren’t any space ships, ray guns, aliens (unless you count some of the characters involved with the KKK) or the usual trappings of the genre. Only on the barest pretext could it be consider true “science fiction” because it could happen any day now. The premise, the basic plot, is about the New Madrid Fault, and there is a wealth of historical data about the earthquake along that fault in the early 19th Century. And rather than have a devastating earthquake in California, what would happen in our current world if this fault line really did let go? Against this backdrop, the author also tackles racism, the Klan, hayseed preachers, militia groups, the industrial military complex, and too many of the wonderful aspects about rural life that seem to escape most novels. To be sure, it’s a hefty book, weighing in at five pounds (dry weight) and close to 800 pages. But it’s devoid of any technical gadgets, and it’s got plenty of time and space for character development. I was particularly impressed with the interior/exterior descriptions and monologue – dialogue of one adolescent male character. I found the feelings evoked had that special touch — close observation seemed evident, an effort to really capture teenage angst. And then there was the literary trick of having an older black character and younger white character stuck on boat in the middle of the Mississippi River. Throwing in an allusion to Huck Finn is treacherous territory (“Huck Finn” is arguably the greatest American novel ever), but it works into this novel with grace and a wry sense of literary history. There’s also a degree of humor, in the face of some of the disaster. There, amid the ruins of the Midwest, when all hope is lost, there’s always a little hint of something improbably funny. I purchased the book at a local place, and the owner of the store pointed out an interesting fact, the book is dedicated to him because, over a plate of BBQ, he was the first person to talk to the author about the earthquake which serves as the basis for the book’s narrative. Interesting reading.