Science fiction, and the high-tech world, want you to believe something different. But for all the skull-cap, socket-in-the-back-of-your-neck visions they cherish, James Ellroy’s The Enchanters is proof that the surest method of mind transfer is the novel. Read the first few pages from the mind of storyteller/narrator Freddy Otash, and your eyeballs will start to pickle. After 20 or more pages, have someone nearby make you a cup of strong, hot coffee. After ingesting Ellroy’s powerful prose, that voice won’t let go of your brain without a fight.
Ellroy is in the midst of his second series of books about the seediest parts of the LA Underworld in the last century. But don’t let that stop you from diving into The Enchanters stone cold sober, as it were. Once you get the vibe of Ellroy’s jive, this book is a high-speed rocket that takes no prisoners as it annihilates your idyllic vision of 1962 and the idyll of Kennedy-era Camelot. Early on, Freddy does the unthinkable, and one bad deed begets a tsunami. Here’s a 70’s phrase for you: “So it goes.”
Along the way expect a huge cast of real-life characters, entertainingly portrayed by Ellroy channeling Freddy. They range from teeny-tiny (George Putnam, a schlocky LA Newsman) to bigger than big (Bobby Kennedy, whom Freddy calls “Ratfuck”). Expect a candle in the trashbin version of Marilyn Monroe, Daryl Gates as a reasonable guy prone to expedient methodology and a plot served up with a side order of jungle juice (151 proof rum and powdered Benzedrine).
Given the above, you might expect (and you will get) a hefty dose of comedy. What will knock you upside the head however, is the attention to details that recasts the volume-at-11 exposition and cogitation of Freddy into a truly sad and tragic story arc. Love stories surface, gasping the last breaths of tainted air. It turns out that an entirely over-the-top lifestyle, documented to the last pornographic playing card, leads to neither the high nor low road. But this is no journey to a wondrous land. That ditch you just hit? It’s a signpost. You have fallen into The Enchanters. You’re in The Ellroy Zone.
James Ellroy is every bit as candid in person as he appears in print. We spoke in person, and you can follow this link to download the unexpurgated results. Or go ahead, turn up the volume and listen at work. NSFW? Then is your workplace safe for you?
Narrative Species 