Blood On The Leaves

Patrick Anderson

This first novel by Stetson, an African American teacher and playwright, is, in short, an anguished, agonizing debate over right and wrong. It will satisfy some readers as a legal thriller, Deep South division, but its ideal audience is those people, black or white, who are willing to contemplate the realities and implications of our nation's long, often ignored holocaust against black people.
— The Washington Post

Publishers Weekly

Stetson's first novel gets off to a provocative start: in contemporary Mississippi, charismatic African-American professor Martin Matheson polarizes students and the larger Jackson, Miss., community with his incendiary lectures about lynchings and other atrocities inflicted by local whites upon local blacks at the height of the struggle for civil rights. The inclusion of graphic photos in the lectures, as well as the names and addresses of the unpunished perpetrators, sparks controversy and a spate of revenge killings of the identified men. On this riveting premise, Stetson builds a thriller cum social commentary cum character study, anchored in a courtroom drama. In this, the book resembles nothing so much as a (very good) episode of Law & Order, with a controversial issue depicted in broad, compelling strokes and examined from a number of vantage points. Because blood evidence links Matheson to the killing of unrepentant racist Earvin Cooper, he's tried not for inciting murder (as seems likely) but for murder itself. Prosecuting Matheson is a meticulous and well-respected black deputy district attorney, James Reynolds, who, caught in the middle of the larger ethical debate, becomes the novel's moral center. Todd Miller, venerable white liberal past his courtroom prime, defends Matheson, who takes the strategic lead in his defense. Miller and Reynolds have often faced each other before, but never in a case like this. Reynolds has a rough time in court, and a rougher one outside, under siege for the first time in his life by members of the black community. Stetson's sharp storytelling pushes buttons as skillfully as Matheson's lectures in this promising debut. (July 7) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

A controversial African-American professor stands trial for the murder of a Klansman who eluded prosecution for past crimes. Martin Matheson, nicknamed "Doctor Fine" by admirers, gains a high profile and sharpens racial tensions in Jackson, Mississippi, with his dramatic lectures about lynchings and related atrocities during the civil rights era, striking a visceral chord by showing graphic photos of the crimes. The professor stops short of recommending retribution, but gives the names of unpunished and for the most part unrepentant local perpetrators who are still alive. Matheson is a thorn in the side of Deputy District Attorney James Reynolds, an African-American who has made steady career progress despite discrimination through perseverance and hard work. Reynolds often finds himself in court facing old lion Todd Miller, a white liberal past his prime but still a strong defender of leftist causes in the South. The narrative shifts among these three perspectives as Matheson's activities become more than academic when the alleged criminals identified in his lectures begin getting killed. Reynolds contemplates prosecuting the professor on some charge, but debate ensues about specific culpability. The DDA's job is made easier when blood evidence connects Matheson to the murder of crotchety Earvin Cooper. The trial occupies the story's second half, with Reynolds prosecuting and Miller defending Doctor Fine. As might be expected, Matheson takes a very active role in his case, but Miller is no slouch, rising to the high-profile occasion by playing shamelessly to the media and displaying the courtroom showmanship of his younger days. The circuslike atmosphere takes the greatest toll onReynolds, who has never before been a target of the local black community. Matheson takes the stand in his own defense, providing more surprises. Playwright-turned-novelist Stetson paints with broad strokes and bold polemic colors, raising provocative questions while keeping the plot on the move in the tradition of the best contemporary commercial fiction.