All Joe Knight by Kevin Morris

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I got about a quarter of the way through All Joe Knight, the debut novel by Kevin Morris, and thought very seriously about not finishing it. The story is told in the first person, narrated by the titular character. His character is mostly defined by the fact that he once made a lot of money and now spends an inordinate amount of time with strippers; that, and he used to play high school basketball.

I am not the audience for a novel narrated by a rich misogynist about Philadelphia and basketball. I don’t enjoy spending my leisure time reading a two-page long screed on the tits of women. However, I could sense that even though I really hated being inside the brain of this scumbag character, there was a little bit more to the story. So I kept reading.

The second half of the novel has a little bit more depth – and, to my relief, Joe goes into his relationships with his wife, daughter, and the aunt who raised him with a little more thought and tenderness in the later half of the novel. The novel goes through Joe’s childhood as an orphan, living with his aunt after both his parents die in car accidents when he was a baby. It tells the story of the 70s in Philadelphia, and the ties he had with the men he played basketball with. The crust of the story is that Joe is facing legal trouble from a business deal he made years ago, the deal that made him rich, a deal that involved all of his former teammates.

This is an ambitious first novel that attempts to cover a lot of substance in dealing with history, race, corruption, but it gets caught up in it’s own characterization a bit too much, ultimately attempting shock value over substance. I like unlikeable narrators, but I have trouble with unsympathetic ones. The thing is with Joe Knight – as a character, and a novel, is that I had very little sympathy while reading it. The parts of the character that were sympathetic – his childhood, his relationship with his aunt and his daughter – were understated, leaving the story drenched in the seediness that remains. As I initially expected, this wasn’t my cup of tea.

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