“Delicious Foods” by James Hannaham

review by MEREDITH MCKINNIE

“A story might help you get through your life, but it doesn’t literally keep you alive — if anything, most often people who have power turn their story into a brick wall keeping out somebody else’s truth, so that they can continue the life they believe themselves to be leading, trying somehow to preserve the idea that they’re good people in their small lives, despite their involvement, however indirect, with bigger evils.”

The title of James Hannaham’s novel sounds like the name of a corporation, a greedy capitalist outfit that maintains a stellar image while robbing its workers of fair pay, dignity, and leverage. And this assumption wouldn’t be far from the truth. As the horror novel opens, Eddie is driving furiously from nowhere Louisiana to Minnesota, struggling to maneuver the steering wheel as his hands have been severed from his body. When he finally reaches his aunt’s house and she recovers from the shock of his condition, Eddie learns to adapt to his new reality, concocting an apparatus that allows to move his nubs and make mechanical repairs. He markets himself as The Handyman Without Hands and morphs into a small-town celebrity. In the following chapters, Eddie’s backstory evolves with the force of tragedy and the continual onset of trauma. Through the voice of three characters, Hannaham unveils the demise of a family and the history of black violence in America.

The most interesting and telling narrator of the story is Scotty, aka Crack -the drug of choice. Scotty’s cool black vernacular tells the story of Darlene, Eddie’s mother, whose addiction after the murder of her husband is the root cause of the chaos that ensues. Having essentially lost two parents, Eddie comes of age in an environment not fit for human beings, and especially not for young boys. At Delicious Foods, Eddie learns the hard lessons of sacrifice, loss, abuse, and manual labor. This novel is not for the faint of heart. The plot is relentlessly heavy and Hannaham notably draws out tension and pain, forcing the reader to sit with hard truths. The plot parallels the history of slavery, showing the frameworks that supported the institution are still very much in place in America, working to protect the powerful and punish those who are not. The story is violent, frank, and unsettling – as is the history of the institution on which it so deliberately comments. Hannaham’s novel will leave you pondering what was real, what was fiction, and whether there is even a difference.

“Everybody black knows how to react to a tragedy. Just bring out a wheelbarrow full of the Same Old Anger, dump it all over the Usual Frustration, and water it with Somebody Oughtas. Then quietly set some globs of Genuine Awe in a circle around the mixture, but don’t call too much attention to that. Mention the Holy Spirit whenever possible.”