It couldn’t be farther from the exploitative pocket paperback you’re probably picturing ... Lines that in a lesser book might simply act as mood setting or descriptive filler regularly surprise ... Curiously, it’s when the guns finally start blazing that the narrative spins its wheels a bit ... Once again, what comes to Johnston’s rescue is his ability to ground even the most flashy stylistic flourishes in convincing, unexpected detail.
Like Shakespeare’s tragedy, a story of star-crossed lovers who fall victim to circumstances beyond their control ... The interviews, some friendly, some contentious, give the novel a polyphonic feel, a sense that the discussions and arguments continue to this day.
A heartfelt yet unsparing read, one that manages to return to the victims of the Branch Davidian cult their humanity, making us see more of them than their misdeeds.
As in Romeo and Juliet, the story slips on sweat and blood from comedy to tragedy ... Telling the story from the point of view of two love-struck teens on opposite sides of the compound’s walls injects a sharp dose of suspense into a catastrophe we think we know ... What’s disappointing, though, is Johnston’s effort to have it both ways — to veil the historical facts while also relying on them as the novel’s ballast.
This gorgeously rendered novel asks many questions about humanity: Who do we follow and why? Who decides what we believe? Johnston allows curious onlookers inside the compound and the hearts of Waco in a perfect marriage of history and art.
Johnston adeptly shifts between mundane moments and episodes of vivid drama ... Even as the bullets fly, a protracted standoff ensues, and the novel moves toward its devastating climax, he keeps his deeply sympathetic protagonists clearly in focus.
