A little hard to believe, sometimes, that Vestal is a writer just out of the gate, but mostly it’s just exciting to watch such a talent unspool itself...Perhaps my favorite moments in Daredevils are the ones that manage to hang briefly free of the plot’s gravity, that carve a new character facet or a new moment in time out of language.
[Vestal's] evocation of Loretta’s mind-set shows astonishing perception. Other writers, even female writers, often exaggerate the sensuality of young girls, overplaying their naiveté and sentimentality and diminishing their agency. Vestal understands that a girl like Loretta can be innocent and shrewd at the same time; that her desire and self-control are mutable and can be directed by her, depending on circumstance. He captures Loretta’s protean quality so well that it may disconcert some readers who are not used to seeing the young female psyche so unhypocritically laid bare...In Daredevils, Vestal sends his characters soaring across the gulf that separates the identity that confines them and the identity they would choose, letting them land roughly but firmly on the other side, broken but free.
Vestal, who won the 2014 PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize for a collection of stories called Godforsaken Idaho, is a fine stylist. There’s not a clunky sentence in this book. His portrait of Mormon family life is commendable for its aversion to easy sensationalism or satire. But despite all these virtues, I came away from Daredevils wanting something more ambitious. A hint of what might have been is available in a pair of chapters in which a minor character recalls a federal raid on her fundamentalist Mormon community in the 1950s.
Vestal’s portraits of polygamous life are vivid and shatteringly real. You don’t question, but only obey. But there are other kinds of faith, he points out. Especially belief in yourself. All of Vestal’s characters are like Knievel: on the edge of a canyon, getting ready to risk death for glory. But only Loretta might be daredevil enough to do the most amazing thing of all — leap out into the unknown to find her true self, no matter the cost. And perhaps, because this debut is so ingenious, haunting, wild and hilarious, the other daredevil is Vestal himself.
Daredevils stays primarily in safe emotional territory. This is the milquetoast coming of age of an underage polygamist bride; Loretta’s arranged marriage is more a function of setting than of pressing conflict ... In the case of most of Vestal’s minor characters, it feels as though there are opportunities for a stronger, darker motivation or connection ... Vestal’s polygamists are softer, nicer polygamists. And though there are some missed opportunities in Daredevils, it’s not a bad story. It’s just not one that challenges its characters as much as it could.
Vestal conjures up the necessary claustrophobia and privation to great effect, this sense of slow emotional suffocation expertly mirrored in the barren, hot desert landscape.
...[a] riveting novel ... Mormon fundamentalism, plucked directly from the outlaw hamlet of Colorado City, Ariz., here called Short Creek, sets this novel spinning on its edge ... Loretta is a complex and compelling character. Despite her forced marriage, she maintains a fierce but cautiously guarded independence and an irrepressible desire for freedom ... As with his earlier short stories, Vestal’s characters are superbly drawn in this compelling novel. Even Evel philosophizes warmly over his many failed leaps and crashes. Vestal has launched a thrilling motorcycle leap of his own, bold, fast-paced and seemingly headed for oblivion. Readers are advised to hang on for a wild and rewarding ride.
