Sitting down to read Michael Lister's Double Exposure, which recently received the Florida Book Awards Bronze Medal for General Fiction, I expected a crime novel so well written it bridges the gap between popular fiction, where crime novels are usually categorized, and literary fiction. What I got was a fantastically penned work of literature that happens to focus on crime.
The story centers on Remington James, who returns to North Florida to take over the family business, a gun and pawn shop, following the death of his father.
Photography, once a hobby he pursued purely for the love of capturing nature's beauty, is now only an afterthought for Remington, an ad agency executive. His choice of career over vocation has led to resentment and depression that have caused his wife, Heather, to separate from him.
Back at home in the woods that make up a majority of his family's property, Remington's love for photographing all things natural is rekindled, thanks in part to his reunion with his dying mother, Remington's original muse. The isolation also causes him to reevaluate his relationship with Heather. Hoping to capture an image of a Florida panther, an endangered species the locals claim does not inhabit the Apalachicola River Basin, Remington sets up motion-activated cameras near ponds and other spots where the predatory cats might stop for water. Unfortunately, his camera instead captures images of a murder in horrifying frame by frame detail.
Remington soon becomes the prey of the sadistic killer and his team of hunters, who seem all too familiar with the surrounding swamplands, as they track him, trying to surround and smother him as they would wild game. Unsure whether to head to the river that flows through the woods and follow its banks to possible freedom or to circle back to his truck, risking a face-to-face encounter with the hunter determined to prevent him from ever leaving the woods, Remington must hone his survival instincts if he is to reach his goals of mending his damaged relationship and returning to his mother's side before it's too late.
Lister's style of prose is poetic. His repeated use of alliteration evokes the tension that James is experiencing as he tries to elude the hunters' dogs:
Barks. Bays. Yelps. Howls.
Closer now. Much.
The pawn shop had been a supporter of the sheriff's K-9 unit since its existence, and Remington had watched several tactical tracking exercises over the years. He pictures what is taking place not far behind him.
Big black snouts on the ground.
Ears and jowls flapping, drool dangling.
Nearly a yard tall, weight of an adult woman.
Running.
Remington's scent.
Relentless.
Or as he faces imminent death as bullets fly all around him:
Rounds continue to ricochet around him, but he doesn't move. He can't.
Numb.
Despondent.
Lost.
He can't think, can't move, can't—what?
Death.
Despair.
Distance.
The writing is so dramatic that it comes as no surprise that one of Lister's colleagues at Gulf Coast Community College, where Lister teaches classes in religion and writing, adapted Double Exposure into a play.
This book is a work of art and well deserving of its award. As far as its classification goes, it could be called literature, general fiction, even crime fiction. At a scant 204 pages, it could also be considered prose poetry. Whatever you call it, Double Exposure is a great read.
by Edward Irvin.
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