What You Have Left by Will Allison

If you told me last week that I'd really enjoy a book that uses NASCAR as a cultural backdrop, I probably would have scoffed at you in that special "Eastern Egalitarian"1 way and changed the subject. But What You Have Left, by Will Allison (long time writer, first time novelist) manages to transcend my petty geographical biases.

It's a tricky little novel, despite seeming simple. The plot is nothing groundbreaking: spunky woman dies after a waterskiing accident in 1971; husband feels guilty, panics, and abandons their kid to be raised by her overprotective grandfather; the daughter eventually seeks her deadbeat dad for answers, both with and without the help of her boyfriend. Allison doesn't seem to be going for anything shocking: by three pages in, you pretty much know who's married, who's dead, and how they die. He chooses to let all the secret motivations, histories, and personalities unfold instead, and it works really well.

The efficiency extends to the characters as well. The voices are frank and somewhat southern, but not in a twangy way--it's more of a no-bullshit manner. Although South Carolina provides a backdrop and some plot points, the story really could have taken place in any vaguely rural area. The perspective shifts from chapter to chapter, sliding from Holly (the abandoned girl who grows up to be a drunk driver, video poker addict, and commitmentphobe while still remaining likeable), to her husband in the 90s, to her absentee father in the 70s, and back again. By jumping around in time, Allison gets all of the history across without much unnecessary stuff. He also (and this is key) doesn't let the narration apologize for anybody's behavior. Rather, you get the sense of how an event's account can differ from person to person, but nobody gets to justify his or her actions while explaining them. Sympathy is possible, but cancellation is not.

The NASCAR bits come in mostly as a way of exploring the dead mother, who doesn't get her own voice. As a talented stock car driver starting to rise above the yokels at the local track in the late 60s, she personifies the career/motherhood dilemma--but because she dies so young, her husband and daughter are stuck guessing at her motivations. It's a fresh perspective on these issues, without being particularly feminist or maudlin. She's not a saint, just a chick who liked speed.

There are some nominal attempts to tether the book to social issues (at one point, South Carolina's infamous Confederate flag and the legal debate over video poker parlors push the plot along), but those parts distract a little from what's really going on.

I'm not sure the book would have worked on a bigger scale. At 200 pages, it's compact and compelling--enough so to be the first book in ages that I've breezed through in only a few hours. I wouldn't complain about a few extra chapters (especially the ones from the absurdly patient husband), but it's probably better to be left wanting. Especially when more material would increase the risk of random Jeff Gordon mentions. Let's just keep it short and good.



1 See The Heidi Chronicles by Wendy Wasserstein