Mel Cooke, Freelance Writer
IN ALONSO and the Drug Baron, Evan Jones has crafted a compact tale of an ordinary man of extraordinary capabilities caught up in very extraordinary circumstances, with a liberal dose of humour, a few strokes of sex, wry winks at race and several crucial insights into Jamaica, land where a loafter cracks a case for the police.
Okay, so the title is extremely generic and the man on the cover, looking left soulfully and almost sensuously, is definitely not representative of Alonso, he of slick tongue, fast feet, quick mind and very little formal education. And the 'have not underdog comes out on top against great odds of numerous haves' is certainly not new.
FRESH LANGUAGE
However, Jones achieves that often elusive writing objective, of packaging the old in fresh language, of coating the familiar with enticing dollops of literary flavour, of simply writing well.
Alonso and the Drug Baron covers a period in the life of Alonso, he of certain Anancy-like tendencies who moves from almost witnessing the murder of Chin Lee to almost bringing down a Minister of Government, Magnus Bonanza, and master drug dealer Leprosini in a successful effort to clear his name.
And his great motivation shows in the literal and figurative trek of this man who has no car or bus fare from Negril to Kingston, from the kitchen of Bonanza to the mountainous hideout of the wanna-be revolutionary Ras Clawt (pronounce slowly, please), to be with Precious Ting, the light to his eye, the food to his stomach.
WRITING ABILITY
The book begins with Chin Lee's death at Negril guesthouse, Jones' sheer writing ability being discovered along with the body which he describes as "... his head turned round like a Satanic cat, his teeth bared, his squint eyes closed and an unpleasant substance coming out from where his ear had been". Alonso is the convenient but not hapless scapegoat, refusing to confess as well as take the all too convenient open window to escape (there was a police sharpshooter waiting) but still managing to make off and so the tale gathers steam.
When Alonso gets to the capital it is termed as "ideal for a wanted man. Alonso felt like a raindrop in the sea. In twenty square miles of poverty, who would notice him?"
Still, all is well that nearly ends well, Alonso doing some fast talking to save his job and the flagging fortunes of the guesthouse in the aftermath of the onslaught and deaths as Alonso and the Drug Baron comes to an end.
Oh yeah. This is the same Evan Jones who wrote of strong right hands, Lacatans, Golden Grove marketplace and cynical tourists in the poem Song of the Banana Man.
Alonso and the Drug Baron runs 195 pages and is published by MacMillan Caribbean.
