This is our third trip to the Richard Bachman ouvere. If we learned anything from the past two visits, it is that Bachman is either really good or really bad. While I don't think that Roadwork quite plumbed the depths of writing that was Rage, this was definitely not The Long Walk. In fact, this book was so mediocre (as in not awful, not great) that it sort of killed that theory off altogether. So what makes a Bachman book different than your regular old Stephen King monograph? I think it's the lack of the supernatural element. That's not to say that nothing weird happens, but you won't meet anyone that can start fires with their minds, perform telekenesis, or communicate via telepathy. Well, what's the fun in that? When Bachman works, it means a dysfunctional world that could happen, but usually it ends up being thinly-plotted sketches that don't age well.
Roadwork is billed as "the novel of the first energy crisis" and is firmly set in 1973, eight years before the book's actual publication date. With Bachman, there is that chance that the manuscript may have been kicking around in a primitive form for years prior, making the novel's original intent to be timely. With gas lines, stagflation and other maladies of the 1970's, it seems like having both your workplace and your house tagged for demolition in the name of progress is the bitter cherry on top of an antifreeze sundae. While most of us would take the stoic's view and accept the buyouts and move on, our anti-hero Bart decides to wage a one man war against the inevitable. The 1970's were certainly not the dawn of the man versus machine scenario, but the 20th century in a nutshell reaffirmed the story that began in the previous century, that there are things too big for any one person to stop. Bart, however, decides to make a delusional wager that with enough firearms and bombs, one need not give in. His focus becomes so intense that he doesn't realize everything else in his life is destroyed in the process and the outcome of his self-defined final battle is no real surprise.
By the description of the plot alone, this does not guarantee a bad book. At times it even seemed like this book would break and mold and do something interesting, but all hopes for that turned out to be in vain. Roadwork is hampered by an unbelievable main character. I feel the intention was for us to identify with him, but instead he repels. Like the anti-hero of Rage, he is a jerk that appears to get pleasure from hurting others, physically and emotionally. He also strikes up the most bizarre relationship with a random hitchhiker and since she is female, of course they end up sleeping together for no plausible reason. All and all, this is a bleak story.
Finally, for the curious, there is no (nor was there ever) "Interstate 784". If we play along with the numbering system, if it did exist it would be a spur of Interstate 84, which is split into two parts, one that runs from Oregon to Utah, the other from Pennsylvania to Massachusetts. So the mostly-anonymous city this book takes place in would be somewhere between Scranton and Hartford, or (less likely) Portland and Salt Lake City. In fact, the descriptions of the city put it in the Midwest. The lesson here is don't read too much into this....or just about anything in this book.
