
This novel follows in the footsteps of Ullman’s previous works of complex, timely, and intense fiction. What it adds to the collection is more reader involvement. Cady, the protagonist, is asked at the end, “How do you live with yourself?” (247). The book compels us to put ourselves in Cady’s shoes and ask what we’d do.
Cady Fox grew up with her aunt January when taken away from her heroin addicted mother. She attended private school, overcoming bullying and other obstacles, graduated from college, hiked the Appalachian trail, then tackled law school. On the eve of possibly being made partner at her firm, Cady shoots a young black man dead in a park. Secrets come out in the case and ensuing media hype, but does the truth?
Like Cady, armed with guns and a sharp tongue, the text is armored with metaphor. It compares Cady to memes and stereotypes. Steeped in pop cultural references, the reader can readily relate and get involved. On the flip side, Cady employs jazz and art analogies in dialogue with her “boyfriend” and a kid she mentors. These push the story to deeper levels in an enjoyable blend of action and contemplation.
Just when Cady seems lost behind a cloud of roles and types, she surprises. The conclusion jumps out, turns the rest of the story on its head, and causes readers to think twice about everything we assume. This novel is an exquisite character study of our schizophrenic age, in a story of a young female vixen-lawyer from Kentucky.