Not everybody will like Continental Drift, especially if you look at it through today's lens (even if nothing has changed). But like it or not, Russell Banks wrote an American classic with a sweeping narrative and vivid portrayal of characters who will stay with you, whether you like them or not. 

The novel is the story of a 30-year-old Bob Dubois. He is a common man with a wife whom he loves (despite also having an affair), two daughters, and another child on the way. Like many Americans, he longs for something more than his existence — a run-down duplex in a working-class neighborhood, a 13-foot kit boat, a beat-up station wagon, and significant debt. Things are okay, but there never seems to be enough money in what amounts to a humdrum life because nobody ever taught him how to find purpose. 

Bob is not a good guy or a bad guy. He just exists, filling space. One night, he recognizes this and decides to follow his brother to Florida, which, like many New Englanders, he sees as a sort of final frontier, where he can get rich and finally make something out of his life — or, at least, a better life. Despite having a brother already "living this dream," there is a certain risk involved. He has to sell the duplex and boat, quit his job, and work in a liquor store for his brother, who promises to make him a partner one day. It doesn't sound bad overall, but the seedy, wild get-rich mentality makes it easy for someone's life to skid out of control. And Bob's life begins to do exactly that. 

His story is juxtaposed with that of a Haitian family trying to get to Florida for similar reasons but from a much more dire existence. The family consists of a young Haitian woman, her son, and a baby. They will literally risk significantly more than Bob to get to Miami. And their journey, although you cannot call Bob's journey comfortable, is horrific. Even more so because the reader knows that, eventually, their lives will inevitably crash into each other, although it's impossible to know whether this meeting will be a triumph or tragedy. 

With the exception of Bob Dubois claiming to have never interacted with Black people despite serving in the military, Banks captures some semblance of New England life, Haitian poverty, and the allure of Florida as it existed in the 1980s to paint a convincing albeit cynical take on American during that era — one that is a counterbalance to the pastel-covered existence immortalized by a John Banks movie. 

Here, the plot of two people chasing the same dream from very different beginnings, combined with characters who are real enough to touch (Bob much more so than the Haitian woman's son), will help any reader who appreciates the craft to recognize it for what it is: one of those novels that gets inside you and stays there, whether you like it or not. I've added to my favorites for this very reason.

Couldn’t put it down