In the pages of Mercy, Steve Crown deftly weaves a satirical tapestry, mocking the follies of modern society with a keen intellect.
Through the misfortunes of our young protagonist, born into opulence only to be cast into the abyss of life's treacherous pitfalls, Crown offers a poignant reflection on the human condition and the cruel lack of agency that haunts us all.
In this astonishing debut, Crown unapologetically strips away the facades of identity, leaving our protagonist and his absurd world as enigmatic as a riddle wrapped in existential angst.
A bittersweet symphony echoing the tragicomedy of our own existence, Mercy invites readers to explore the hidden depths beneath its deceptively easy prose.
For all its honesty about real human pain, Mercy amuses with Crown’s sharp bursts of humor. These are exemplified as Mercy’s mother starts her life over as a single parent: in a flailing attempt to get it all back on track, she searches via dial-up internet for a new career, and finds that even the open position of “Toilet Scrubber” demands “five years of experience or a Ph.D.” Tragedy eventually pushes Mercy to living with his jaded and narcissistic father, whose dicey past is flung into Mercy’s face at school.
Throughout, Crown is sensitive to the realities of poverty, the difficulties of escaping it, and its cross-generational impact. Also well handled is the often isolating nature of schooling, as bullying from students and unfair treatment from teachers create emotional potholes on Mercy’s path towards manhood. Still, loving moments sprout in unexpected places, tempering the raw emotion this story often stirs, especially in the touching final pages, which echo the promise of the opening—and offer hope that, this time, it might be sustained.
Takeaway: A touching satire of growing up rootless in an indifferent America.
Great for fans of: Growing Up Poor: A Literary Anthology, Justin Torres’s We the Animals.
Production grades
Cover: B+
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A-