This debrief post contains spoilers, so I've split it under a cut. Proceed with caution if you haven't read Part Two yet, or, better yet, go grab a copy!
It's been several books coming, and it was bound to happen: the club's reached a boiling point with regard to the overarching plotline.
With the sort of casualness only he could muster, Walsh lit a fresh cigarette off the butt of the first and said, with it bobbing off his lip, “Tango’s right.” Matter of fact, but his gaze, when it lifted, was cold, and harsh, and dared anyone to argue with him. “We can’t go back. Over the past ten years, the club has made steady, agreed-upon progress, step-by-step. Each expansion, each investment, each involvement within the underworld has been voted on and passed by unanimous decision. When I patched in, it was explicitly as an accountant. I was told, by my presidents – James first, Ghost second – that my main objective here in this club was to build wealth, for the club itself, and for its members. A rich club is a powerful club, and that’s what I’ve done, every day, since I first sewed my top rocker on.
“We’re tangled in some deep shit right now, yeah,” he said, voice taking on a rarely-used, bitter-cold edge. His eyes were chilling. “But when was the last time any of you couldn’t pay your utility bills?” He gestured with his free hand in invitation. “Child support?” he asked Briscoe in particular, who ducked his head, shame-faced. “Rent?” This to Dublin, who’d recently moved out of his shitty apartment into one with reliable heating and air. “When did any of you last have to ask a brother for a loan?”
It was perhaps the longest speech Walsh had ever offered at church. Everyone had either ducked his head, or looked appropriately chastened.
Ghost lifted his head, still standing, hands braced on the table in a way that made him look supplicating, rather than dictatorial. “Any of you could have protested at any time, but you didn’t. And now we’re here. Backed by a British millionaire, fucking…running both coasts. And our primary nemesis – yeah, boys, welcome to comic book land, we have a nemesis – is way more powerful than we ever thought possible. And none of that – none of it – has anything to do with what we’re dealing with right now.”
I've talked in previous posts about the special challenges that come with writing an ongoing series, namely the need to up the ante without jumping the shark. If a group of characters faces the same sort of villain every book, learning nothing from previous experiences, never growing or gaining ground, the narrative stagnates and the books begin to be clones of one another. The series itself gets stale, and interest drops off. Likewise, if things get too ridiculous, the narrative tension shatters and no part of the story holds any meaning. (This is why the Lean Dogs aren't going to start fighting vampires or little green men from space; no worries on that front)
As the club grows its ranks, and gains more power and wealth, it makes narrative sense that their enemies would become bigger, badder, and more challenging as the series progresses. Abacus is a formidable enemy, one not dealt with cleanly or easily, and as the club mires itself deeper and deeper into the fray, it makes sense that tensions would come to a head.
With regards to the Lean Dogs as a whole, the church scene - where Hound blows up, and brothers express doubts - is one of the most important of the book. With Fox, Tenny, and Reese on one side of the table, and the older, longstanding members on the other, the divide between old school and new becomes stark.
At the head of the table, as president and vice president, Ghost and Walsh are caught in the middle. They're wrestling with one of those no-right-answer questions I like to pose: do you keep growing the club and deal with all the ramifications that entails? Or do you keep the club small, localized, and thus limit the number of members, and the challenges those members are able to tackle?
For me, narratively, the right answer is to grow: that's where the meatiest, most interesting character work can be done. But for the characters themselves, there's some growing pains. It was important to write this scene from Mercy's POV, despite his current detachment. He's not a decision-maker here, but a loyal soldier, and through his eyes we can see the ways his leaders and his brothers are struggling with the changes. Everyone at church loves Mercy and wants to help him, but this is a moment when rendering that help poses major risks for everyone involved.
Tension, meet ratchet.
This series is honestly the best I have ever read....you bring all the characters to life in a way that they surely must exist somewhere...it's brilliant!!
ReplyDeleteI love that Walsh speech. Very pointed but hello, even if they dropped absolutely everything, closed ranks and hid (and come on, like any of them would do that)… they’ve gotten so big, and gotten so much attention from the baddies, there’s no way out but through. The situation with Mercy puts all that under a microscope, and maybe they aren’t all handling that with grace, heh, but they’d be confronting their issues sooner or later regardless.
ReplyDeleteThere’s a saying among bikers… when in doubt, throttle out. I see the club doing that in a metaphorical sense.
A pivotal scene. I could feel the tension, anger and mostly fear from the old guard. Lauren, your writing always makes me feel like I am there with the characters.
ReplyDeleteAt the end, when Ghost says “One of our own is in trouble, and we’re going to get him out of it.” I thought, “hell yeah you are, Mercy would do it for you”. On pins and needles over here. Looking forward to the next installment.
Reading this series, makes me believe these Characters really do breathe
ReplyDeleteI have loved your writing since Fearless. Since the first descriptions of the rolling hills of Tennessee. I agree with all of the above comments. Cannot wait to see what is in store in the next installment. #Anticipation
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