“Raise My Ebenezer” by Richard Gerald Shrubb
REVIEW BY MEREDITH MCKINNIE
“Early in my career as a killer, an experienced assassin once told me that the first time we kill someone, it’s because we were called by a need to do it. After that, homicide either makes us sick and we never do it again, or we like it so much that we look for more opportunities.”
In Dr. Shrubb’s first novel, a vigilante killer embarks on a soul-searching discovery of enlightenment mandated by the criminal justice system he evaded for decades. Mark Antony is torn between the moral hero he envisions and the ruthless executioner he has become. After a life of retributive crime that devolved into killing for sport and large sums, Mark is arrested for defending a stranger in a parking lot, a small-time offense for a long-time assassin. In conversations with the court-mandated therapist, whom Mark admires beyond female physicality, he begins chronicling his life in a diary. The vignette-esque accounts of killing those who needed to be killed quickly spirals into a crisis of conscience – or lack thereof. Lured by the title of arbiter of justice, Mark must decide if abandoning his lifestyle will warrant the self-retribution he desires.
Shrubb likens his antihero to Dante from The Divine Comedy, a renowned 14th-century poem that imagines the afterlife in terms of punishment and reward via guides that accompany Dante through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. Dante’s overarching view of the transgressions of man throughout history are reminiscent of Mark’s meta observation of his own flawed past and potential future. Shrubb’s social commentary on historical events, class distinctions, and gendered realities serve as both context and character development. While Mark’s flaws and mistakes are countless, his biting wit and desire for intense human connection overshadow his aggrandized attempts at solitude: “Emotional boundaries make good relationships in the same way that good fences make good neighbors.” He may keep moving on, but he will inevitably encounter someone else to rescue. Mark’s strength is also his downfall.
This novel is not reliant on plot, though when an incident is detailed, it reverberates. Shrubb combines action, contemplation, and self-reflection into a manifesto that both defends Mark’s actions and confesses his sins: “We can be afraid of living without being afraid of dying.” The book’s page turner quality is complicated by the dense introspection invoked by its telling. After I read this novel in a day, I told Dr. Shrubb that I had to let the text ruminate a bit. It’s been almost a month, and I’m still thinking about it. This book bears reading again.
Dr. Shrubb is an Associate Professor and Coordinator of the EdD Program at Louisiana Tech University. Aside from the busy nature of academic life, Dr. Shrubb found escape and release in the construction of his first novel.
“I inspire others to feel confidence in themselves, which is important for me to state in exactly that phraseology, because “con” in “con artist” stands for “confidence.” That’s me – the confidence artist. I’m invisible, comforting, and easily dismissed. I do not inspire fear, worry, or suspicion. Then I kill you. Then I evaporate. So do you.”