The Drive, by Tyler Keevil

18192023A single call from his Czech girlfriend catapults Trevor into a serious crisis. Desperate to get his mojo back, he blazes down Highway 99 in a rented Dodge Neon.
But soon his journey to California is fraught with peril, and all he has for protection are a semi-automatic pistol, his trusty plastic visor and a flea-ridden cat. As the drugs and the heartbreak kick in, the question is no longer whether Trevor will get over his girlfriend’s infidelity, but whether he’ll get out alive.”

Gripping and hilarious, this tale of a road trip gone horribly awry is one of the best books I’ve read this year. There is plenty of incident, from bad peyote trips to biker showdowns to a diner that may be run by cannibals, but there is also plenty of subtext to chew on, as a journey through America becomes a journey into the narrator’s psyche. Jung’s take on synchronicity is explicitly mentioned a few times, and his idea of the amina is at the heart of the book. And if that sounds heavy, don’t worry, you’re never far away from another tragicomically bad decision by our hero, usually while deep under the influence.
And Mr Keevil appears to know his Richmond Fontaine records, which is another plus as if one were needed.

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