The book opens with an Allen Ginsberg-ish beat poet and a Neal Cassady-esque novelist squabbling over who is actually the true artist and free spirit, blah blah blah. Then they set off on the road (arr arr).
After the events of Blacksad: A Silent Hell, John and Weeks are parting ways at the airport in New Orleans. Weeks has to get back to the city and his job at the paper. John is flat broke (after refunding his fee in the previous case) and needs to find some work before he can get back home. Then a job falls in his lap on the way out; drive a clients car to Tulsa. Sounds easy and there’s no guns or bad guys in sight. Yeah, like that was going to last. Next thing you know, the Caddy he is supposed to deliver has been stolen and he enlists the help of a motorcycle gang to track down the car in Amarillo.
This where the stories intersect, as it was those two hipsters who stole that Caddy and a chase ensues. I don’t know if I’m experiencing Blacksad fatigue or what, but this book just didn’t work for me. Certainly the hipster thing was less than interesting to me, though there was some cool stuff with a travelling circus. The mean-ass cigar-chomping leader of the circus was a koala bear, that was a neat little turnabout. The art was terrific, as always, with some great scenery of the American Southwest, but sadly I just couldn’t get on board with the story. Still, I am interested enough to see where he ends up next.
