BOOK REVIEW: Kill a Man by Steve Orlando

Kill A ManKill A Man by Steve Orlando
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Amazon.in page

 

James Bellyi is a closeted gay mixed martial arts fighter in contention for the middleweight belt. Amid the pre-fight smack talk, Bellyi is outed by his opponent, the man who current holds the title. The dropping of this bomb throws Bellyi’s career into disarray, his gym quietly drops him, the fight promoter overturns Bellyi’s previous fight, saying that he cheated under the referee’s nose, the organization – name “EFC” for legal reasons, I presume – fearing that much of its fanbase is not ready for a gay champion.

When the EFC finds itself in a bind because losing an injured headliner threatens to bleed the interest out of its upcoming event, they are forced to give Bellyi another shot to work back to a title-fight. With no one in his corner – literally — Bellyi manages a victory, but he knows he’ll need a coach to succeed in the title fight against the man who publicly outed him.

This is where things get interesting. Bellyi’s father, DJ Bellyi, had died due to fight-related injuries when James was still a boy. DJ Bellyi had been trying to stigmatize his opponent, Xavier Mayne, with anti-gay slurs, in part to get Mayne of his game and in part — we learn — because the senior Bellyi was genuinely a homophobic bigot. However, instead of knocking Mayne off his game, what DJ succeeded in doing was throwing a legendarily powerful striker into a seething rage.

While James Bellyi always despised Mayne for killing his father, when he finds himself facing a title fight without “a corner” and with all odds against him, Bellyi decides to pursue Mayne as a coach. Reluctantly, Mayne agrees. This creates overlapping stories between James and Mayne, and the core question is whether the younger generation can learn from what the previous generation went through. We learn that Mayne was traumatized by DJ Bellyi’s death. It’s also about whether and – if so – how the world has changed on a societal level in the intervening years.

I found this book to have an intriguing premise. It’s a simple story. It may seem like I gave it all away in the review, but reading the back-cover blurb gives a reader at least as much insight into the key story elements as did my description. There’s not a lot by way of extra layers. So, its more about whether the details of the story (e.g. the characters’ interactions) resonate with the reader than whether the reader will find some huge unexpected twist. The art is easy enough to follow. The artist uses different color palettes to differentiate different blocks of panels, I believe this is for the purpose of establishing emotional tone (but, perhaps, I misunderstood what was meant to be conveyed and it’s more about differentiating scenes.)

I enjoyed this book, and if you like fight stories you’ll likely enjoy it. It’s like “Rocky” but with the underdog status being less by way of being from down-and-out circumstance and more based in bigotry.

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POEM: Like a Hawk

I watch the hawks —
watching me watching them —
and wonder how many of them I don’t see.

They’re better watchers:
-stiller
-more patient
-less swayed by boredom.

They stand, cloaked, as if in judgement —
Chief Justice of this street,
roving eyes in search of
one false move.

They are literal swoopers.
I’ve been accused of “swooping in,”
but I’m — at best — a figurative swooper.

Watch, swoop, catch, repeat…

POEM: Fallow Field Heroics [Ottava Rima]

I wander though the fallow field.
The weeds and unintended plants
are stealing food of increased yield,
but soil is churned by worms and ants
whose labors stay subtly concealed.
It looks like nothing at a glance,
but bold heroics are afoot
to till the soil for fine output.

DAILY PHOTO: From Badami Caves Toward Badami Fort

Taken from Badami Caves in November of 2020.

Limerick of Myanmar

There was a young woman from Myanmar
who had the longest neck around, by far,
but when she shed the rings
her neck drooped like a string-
she was the flex-necked gal of Myanmar.

DAILY PHOTO: Temple Ruins in Monochrome, Aihole

Taken in Aihole, India in November of 2020.

POEM: The Trail Beckons

The trail calls to me,

its grass-fringed part curving gently,

climbing upslope toward the trees,

the forest that hides hints of a future,

denying all hope of knowing what comes next.

DAILY PHOTO: Galtaji Well

Taken in March of 2020 near Jaipur.

Distant Hills [a Haibun]

Raising my gaze, the world at a distance is softer, its contours green, a luscious green, a green which recalls past Springs. The foreground is rough and rocky, littered with rocks, some dull and others wet and glistening. A creek burbles, I know not from whence it comes. Just as I can’t say who dragged in these smooth rocks and boulders.
 
i look up
and the world ahead
pulls me forth

Limerick of Mongolia

There was a boy from Mongolia
who had a taste for Coca-Col-i-a,
but only sporadically
’cause he lived nomadically
and they won’t ship to: “A Yurt in Mongolia.”