Atticus: A Novel

Ron Hansen has written an appealing and surprisingly non-formulaic detective novel set in Mexico. I enjoyed his frequent use of literary allusions and short, familiar phrases from Atticus's Spanish tourguide handbook.

I’ve read a number of his historical fiction books and enjoyed them. This was kind of a step off the beaten path, and was not a bad way to spend some harsh winter nights. Truthfully I liked the other stuff better..

Atticus is about a Colorado rancher by the name of Atticus Cody, Who has been on edge with his son Scott of Ressurection, Mexico. One day Atticus discovers tragic news about his son's suicide. The only thing Attcus can do about it is go down to Mexico and retrieve his son's body. While he is there he gradually becomes more and more suspicious of his son's death, which pushes Atticus to unravel what he thinks could be a conspiracy. For me, this book could have been a lot better if only the excitement began a little earlier. I had a very hard time getting into this book up until the last one-hundred pages. I could see how this book can be interesting though. Some aspects of the book just did not connect to my personal preference in reading, but hey, thats just me. I was brought in by the element of mystery in the novel. Ron Hansen does an awesome job at creating a suspensful story. This novel will keep you guessing up until the last fifty pages. So If you are interested in a good mysterey/suspense story which puts you in a state of wonder and confusion, then this book is right up your alley.

In addition to a good story, it was very well written.

Lots of twists and turns and it does keep your interest. You have to have tolerance for a flaky character

Unique mystery with unexpected great twist. Great use of setting -- expats in Mexico.

Resurreccion, Mexico doesn’t exist, which is surprising to learn after reading Hansen’s vivid descriptions of the townspeople carrying iguanas, the rich resort villas only a short walk from shantytowns and red-light district, and homeless beggars mingling with Mayan mystics who double as mob bosses. What is curious is that most of this rich detail serves mostly as a backdrop for an old Coloradoan oilman and cattle rancher’s quest to figure out how his estranged son died. Resurrection is rich in evocative details, but this primarily seems to be to hide which details are relevant to the novel’s mystery plot. Atticus Cody, the novel’s protagonist and primary point of view character, is a bit stuck in his ways. He lives alone at his small ranch since his wife died decades ago and his two sons have since moved out. He is in many ways the paragon of modern western masculinity: he’s an oilman and a cattle rancher, he is quiet and outwardly stern, but has a snarky sense of humor and a kind heart beneath all his fear of showing weakness, and he is stubbornly principled and religious. The novel in many ways forces him to confront all those things, as Atticus’ love for his son, despite his son’s rebelliousness and complete departure from his father’s ways, drives the whole story. Scott Cody, the son in question, is a forty-year-old aspiring artist living off of his dad’s wealth struggling with manic bipolar disorder who has lived most of his adult life chasing a woman named Renata, who he is in love with. Scott is deeply passionate and emotional in everything he does, even when he isn’t having a manic episode, which sets him up as an effective foil to the stoic Atticus. Scott also faces a lot of guilt for some of the things that have happened around him in part because of his mental illness. Though Atticus learns Scott has died soon after the novel begins, Scott and Atticus’ relationship was tenuous at best. When Atticus goes to Resurrection, Mexico to retrieve Scott’s body, he learns more about his son’s life that should make Atticus want to push him away, but it only brings out more of Atticus’ sympathies. The third major character in the novel is Renata, Scott’s beloved, who does not know if she loves him back and is currently living with a man closer to Atticus’ age named Stuart. Renata has a natural warmth, impulsivity, and flirtatiousness similar to Scott’s, and is in many ways the key to the novel’s mysteries. She is Atticus’ primary point of contact in Resurreccion, and in some ways reminds Atticus of his deceased wife, at least in how she treats him. However, unlike Scott, Atticus has no bond to her, and we end up seeing a dark mirror of Scott more than anything. However, the novel’s treatment of Renata is still complex, leaving open the possibility of redemption for her. Complexity is one of the novel’s overall strengths. It largely manages to depict its characters and setting as they are, kind and deeply selfish, rich and poor, without judgment. This brings me back to Hansen’s use of the town of Resurreccion, in which he displays significant racial segregation, wealth inequality, homelessness, religion, crime, and prostitution without making much of a statement about those things. The setting is perhaps meant to echo the divided nature of Scott’s mental state. While none of the local Mexicans feature as major characters, those that become relevant to the story are given similar treatment to the setting- complex, divided people with their own deeply felt needs. Whether or not this is sufficient to overcome the criticism that Hansen uses local Mexicans more as set dressing than characters somewhat similar to how Joseph Conrad uses local African people in Heart of Darkness may be dependent on the reader. For me, it rides the line. I personally find it almost unrealistic that a story so entrenched in setting never featured someone who was actually native to that setting as a character who stuck around for more than two pages at a time, especially considering how important the setting is to the themes of the book. Modern sensibilities applied to twenty-year-old novels aside, the story that is present about a man connecting with his long-lost son is deeply touching. The story is built on the relationship between Atticus and Scott and exploring all the ways that relationship is positive, destructive, and, in the end, beautiful, even if it draws the attention of both the reader and Atticus away from the sweeping cultural problems that plague both Resurreccion and 'Atticus'.

I recently became a Ron Hansen fan after reading his historical novel The Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford , one of the best reads I've enjoyed in years. I fell in love with Hansen's simplistic, descriptive style--by his colorful reliance on similes that makes the reader smile with recognition. So with great anticipation I began Hansen's novel ATTICUS, a story about 67-year-old Atticus Cody, a quiet, unassuming Colorado rancher with a problematic prodigal son. When Atticus receives the news that his son committed suicide outside a Mexican resort, he journeys south to retrieve his son's body--only to find clues and disturbing signs his son was murdered. The novel is broken into two narratives: a third person account of Atticus's experiences in Resureccion, Mexico; and a first person account of a most unpleasant person, Scott Cody, Atticus's son. I encountered several problems as I plodded through this novel. Unlike Hansen's "The Assassination of Jesse James" the prose in ATTICUS I often found awkward and confusing--as was the timeline. Yet even more bothersome than the mechanics was the lack of character development. Yes, Atticus Cody is a simple man, but the reader never really gets inside his head, finds out what he's truly thinking. We know he's a widower, that his wife was killed several years ago in a car accident, with Scott the driver. We never know how this tragedy shaped his feelings for his son, because we really don't know what his feelings are. Yes, we know he's grieving over the news of Scott's suicide, but the grief is never fully vetted because he's walking around looking for clues--yet what's motivating him to get to the truth is blurry and undeveloped. In summary, this is a novel with a protagonist going through the motions. An unexpected plot twist launches the Scott Cody narrative, a plot twist making the story even more distasteful and disturbing. Because of his dysfunctional, self-centered actions--because he not only ruins his own life, but the lives of so many others--I found this portion of the novel literally repulsive. Yet here, Hansen has no difficulty having Scott relate his feelings and emotions, but as the reader I was unmoved because I didn't care for the character at all. Much of what transpires in this narrative is farfetched and requires too much suspension of disbelief, and then ATTICUS just ends with very little resolution. One of the most disappointing reads I've had the displeasure to finish. --D. Mikels, Author, The Reckoning