cover image CARDIFF DEAD

CARDIFF DEAD

John Williams, . . Bloomsbury, $14.95 (256pp) ISBN 978-0-7475-4997-0

Welsh noir, anyone? In this poignant tale of Cardiff lowlifes (to coin a Welsh phrase, "if anything green still grows in my valley it must be marijuana") by Cardiff native Williams (Five Pubs, Two Bars and a Nightclub), Mazz, a disillusioned over-the-hill rock guitarist, returns home. It was in Cardiff, at 19, that Mazz's promise blossomed momentarily when he and his friend Charlie Unger formed a band called the Wurriyas. They were good, made a record. Mazz wrote a hit song. The dreams got as far as London, then faded out. Now Charlie—former lightweight champion of the world—is discovered in his hotel room five days after he died, apparently of natural causes. Or did he? Mazz wants to find out because Charlie was his friend, but also because, as with everything else in the lives of people he knew back then, no one cares why it all went to hell. Cardiff is changing. There's a lot of construction: out with the old, make big money on the new. Anyone who stands in the way of progress gets plowed under. Was that what happened to Charlie? Mazz's search for answers leads him to beaches, prostitute hangouts, boardrooms and boxing gyms. The mystery is incidental to the story of Mazz's struggle to come to terms with his past and make a new life for himself, but Williams ties it all together in the end. Besides some effective passages in the present-day narrative, the flashbacks that run throughout chronicling the rise and fall of the Wurriyas are generally the most compelling parts of the book. (Aug. 9)