Chain Gang All Stars

This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.

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Before I begin, let me just say that you are wasting your time reading this post when you could be out buying or borrowing and reading this book.

If you’ve made the mistake of sticking around, I’ll go ahead and talk about the book, I guess. But really, your priorities are wrong.

What’s Chain-Gang All-Stars About?

In the not-too-distant future, laws regarding the incarceration of serious felons have been adjusted, and the Criminal Action Penal Entertainment program is born. Under CAPE, convicted murderers (many with other convictions as well) can be set free before the end of their sentence if they agree to participate. Participation however, could result in their violent death.

Under CAPE, these felons will face off one-on-one (sometimes two-on-two) against other felons in a fight to the death. If you survive a bout, you score some points and progress to the next fight (in a week or so). As you gain victories, you can earn points to be used for weapons, better food, clothing, equipment, etc. After three years, you will be released.

These felons are organized in Chain Gangs associated with the participating prisons. Links (as the fighters are called) in the same Chain do not face off against each other, and become (to varying degrees depending on their chain) teams—encouraging each other, giving tips, etc.

This has become the largest sports entertainment in the U.S. Throngs show up for live events or to watch a stream. You can also subscribe to almost constant live feeds of the Links between fights. Some fighters become superstars, with corporate sponsors, merchandise, inspiring their own fashion trends, etc.

Over the course of the novel, we follow (primarily) one Link from her initial bout to the final weeks of her time. We get to know her Chain—a couple of Links in particular—as well as Links from other Chains, so we can see how people join, survive, and (usually) die through this entertainment. We also get to know some of the executives and sportscasters becoming rich from this, some fans and subscribers—as well as some of the protestors trying to stop the program.

The Links

Most of the time we follow Loretta Thurwar and Hamara “Hurricane Staxxx” Stacker. LT’s on the verge of freedom, and Staxxx isn’t far behind. They try (with some success) to get their Chain to act differently, to help each other in ways others don’t. At the same time, they’re dealing with the emotions of LT not being around for much longer (one way or another) and Staxxx moving into the leadership role. We get to know them and their team, what brought them to this point in their lives, and what might be around the corner.

But we don’t just focus on those two—there are other Links, in other Chains, that we watch. Some as they make the transition from prisoner to Link, some in their early (and final) bouts. As horrible as the fights to the death are—and they are—it’s the time with these other Links that really cements the horror of what is happening to and through all the Links. There’s one man who spends a lot of time in solitary confinement and some of what he goes through made a bigger impact on me than the bloodiest death.

None of these links would claim to be a good person—well, there’s one wrongly convicted man, but his innocence doesn’t last long as a Link. They know they’re criminals, killers, and most would say they don’t deserve life or freedom. But none of them deserve this.

Everyone Else

As fantastic as the portions of the novel about the Links are, I think it’s these characters and seeing how they relate to CAPE that is the genius of the novel. A society cannot spend so much money (and earn it, too) on something like this without it shaping it and the people in it. Think of how so much of the US economy, news, and entertainment in January/February is devoted to the Super Bowl. Now magnify that, make it year-long, and add some serious ethical and moral issues.

The corporate figures are easy enough to write off as villains. And Adjei-Brenyah does that really well—but he makes sure we see them as human villains. The kind of people it’s easy to imagine existing given the right circumstances—these are not cartoons.

The protestors we see are complex as well—they’re smart, passionate people, who are trying their best to put an end to this modern slavery. They make bold moves, some stupid ones, too. But they also have to wrestle with the ramifications of their positions. One in particular is the child of a Link—she doesn’t have a relationship with him anymore, she doesn’t want anything to do with him but doesn’t want him killed in this way. But she doesn’t want him roaming around outside of a prison, either. There’s an honesty to the portrayal of these protestors that I find admirable—they may not have the answers about the right way to deal with serious criminals, but they do know what’s wrong and are willing to take their stand.

The portrayal that’s going to stay with me the longest is of a young woman who finds the matches distasteful—not necessarily morally repugnant, but not the kind of thing she wants to watch. But goes along with her boyfriend to placate him—he’s a giant fanboy with strong opinions and facts to back them up. He’s reciting them to her constantly, but she tries not to pay attention. She does start to get involved in the live streams about the out-of-combat lives of these Links—think Survivor meets Big Brother. She eventually becomes invested in some Links through those streams and that opens a can of worms.

The Endnotes

The Endnotes are a particularly interesting feature of this book—so interesting I’ll bite back my default complaint about choosing to use endnotes when footnotes exist.

In this novel, the notes are a fascinating combination. The first type are notes about the characters and events in the novel—a little more background, or other detail that doesn’t fit in the text proper. I don’t remember seeing this kind of footnote in a book as serious as this one, but Adjei-Brenyah pulled it off well.

The second type of endnote material cites laws (real and fictional), studies, and actual history surrounding the contemporary American penal system. In addition to being valuable information for the reader to have in general—or when it comes to talking about this book—this is a clever device for Adjei-Brenyah to keep it fresh in the reader’s mind that while this is a novel, it’s a novel well-grounded in things that matter—things he wants the reader to care about and hopefully take action in response to knowing this material.

So, what did I think about Chain-Gang All-Stars?

This is going to be one of the best books I’ve read in 2023. It’s well-written, the characters are fantastically drawn and depicted, the pacing is perfect—the story doesn’t stop moving, and the perspective jumps just draw you in closer. The moral and ethical questions are real, but not all of the answers are. I don’t know how you walk away from this book unmoved and unprovoked to think and perhaps act. There are moments when Adjei-Brenyah makes it clear that you can enjoy yourself with these characters—but there are many more that will make you hate this world. Most of those will remind you how easily it could be ours.

But you won’t stop turning the pages until the end.

There’s so much that I want to talk about, so many things that Adjei-Brenyah did that many writers don’t—or wouldn’t have thought of. But I just don’t have the time to get into it (or I’d ruin the experience for you).

Here’s one example. At some point around the 20% mark, we’re given an (well-executed and seamless) infodump, that largely serves to tell the reader that anything they’ve surmised about the CAPE program is correct (or to adjust any misunderstandings, I guess) and to give a few more details. A well-timed and well-executed infodump is great to find—one that’s largely a reaffirmation is even better. That affirmation is welcome so that you can move on with certainty.

The author talks about changes in his outlook on the American penal system during the writing and research he did for this book. I don’t know that I can agree with him on those, but it’s something I had to consider because of the novel. And I can certainly empathize with his thinking. I can’t imagine there are many who don’t think our penal system needs reformation of some kind—there’s little agreement on what needs reform, and less on how it should be done. But a side-benefit of this novel is that the reader will have to think about their own positions some. It’s not all a diatribe about our prisons—it’s a book that you can just read for the story—but you’ll not want to.

Lastly, for a book that’s about death—violent death at the hands of violent people who only hope to go on so they can kill again—the book is really about life. It’s a celebration of life, a call to protect it, a call to see it for what it is. It’s a reminder that “where life is precious, life is precious.”

This one ticked all the boxes for me (critical of the prison system, critical of capitalism, violence galore, laced with nonfiction bits...) and it had such rave reviews that I was really excited for it, but in the end I felt that I only got a world/characters presented to me without a plot to go along with it and ultimately I was bored of waiting for the story to actually start.
It's more of character study type of deal with a deep aura of profound depression which might be appealing to some but really isn't to me. I still want to love it because I'm always happy to see the ideas in this book enter the mainstream conversation so I'm a little conflicted on how to rate it and therefore I'm just not going to do it, for now at least.

  Book: Chain Gang All Stars Tarot: Death, Eight of Swords, The Tower reversed
Read tandem, audio and e-book 5 stars, easily  

“She forced love into this loveless space, made it the subject of her life.”

“Some truly didn't think about the fact that men and women were being murdered every day by the government their children pledged allegiance to at school.”

“Just cause you enslaved don't make you a slave. You can't ever be that.”

This particularly spoke to me about Thurwar and her setting up her Links prior to her Freedom in whatever form it may come in.

Absurd. The opening scene is shockingly violent; then, as the novel progresses, Adjei-Brenyah periodically introduces further cruelties, tortures, and humiliations. Actions that no human would ever inflict on any sentient creature, let alone a fellow human.(*)

(*) That is not actually true.

This. Was. Painful. I almost DNFed on page six; a trusted friend encouraged me to continue, and I thank her. Shock value notwithstanding, this is a work of compassion and love, as will come as no surprise if you’ve read Friday Black. Adjei-Brenyah has a disturbing gift not just for depicting unimaginable horrors but also the chilling social acceptance of such, and by so doing he highlights the horrors that we today treat as commonplace.

What a devastating and utterly powerful story.

The audio narration for this book is one of the best audiobook productions I've had the pleasure of hearing. I'd highly recommend the audiobook if you consume books through audio at all.

I read this book at just the right time. It invokes questions of prison absolution—something I just started learning about—and shows a dystopian society where some things seem ‘progressive' while the irony is that the system itself is completely backwards on a technical level. Mainly, it is a massive critique of the prison system—but the book is much more complex and ambitious than I had expected.

Adjei-Brenyah had a lyricism to his prose where the ideas were bold and made the story consumable enough so that you didn't have to do a bunch of mental-gymnastics to understand the point. Simultaneously, the lyricism of the writing was just poetic enough to portray very nuanced, multi-faceted insights into topics of racism, incarceration, sexism, exploitation, capitalism, violence, etc.

I can't say I ‘enjoyed' this book; the subject matter was tough to get through. Yet, I wouldn't change a thing about it. I can see the themes explored not being subtle enough for some audiences, but I can't really fault Adjei-Brenyah for the boldness of his narrative; such a vast array of themes intertwined into a fictional story sometimes demands loudness. And I think this was one of those cases.

I'd recommend going into this book knowing as little as possible about the actual plot; it makes the journey much more engaging in my opinion.

I am glad I listened to the audiobook of this title. There were multiple readers - all solid voices who are well used to differentiate characters. Its a dark and grim America - rather than executing convicted murderers or warehousing violent offenders, the incarcerated can opt to compete in an elaborate league of fight matches - done to the death of one of the "players." There is violence and some gore in the story. Yet, the focus is on the "chain gang" team led by two black women - partners in and outside of the death stadia. I found the story-world America deeply disturbing, yet an entirely plausible result of the increasing violence of our culture. Everything about the world of the combatants is televised and consumed - including the marches and camping the condemed do between death match venues. Two aspects of the story-telling is particularly compelling. First - the broad shfting of pespectives gives the reader a look at this death league from various perspectives - average viewers, executives running the games, protesters putting their own lives on the line and others. While the shifting can be disorienting at times, it paints a vivid portrait of both the horror amidst the seduction of the league. Second - the narrow focus on the leading women and the gang gives a humanizing intimacy and chance for redemption within a bleak world. These two foci come togther in a vivid incident at a small town farmers market - the most engaging scene in a novel I've read or listened to - in a long time. A highly recommended read or listen which may change your perspective on much about our 21st century America

DNF @ 60%

Another hyped book and another flop.

The premise of this one just sounds SO good - a dystopian/alternate future where prisoners are on chain gangs and fight to the death, gladiator style, as entertainment on a TV show for the public.

I liked what the author was doing here, with the critical look at the prison system in the US, but I had a few problems which made me really not have a great time with this.

There was little to no description of the world so I had no idea of the setting in my head, and there were so many characters and side stories that it felt scattered.

I've read from other reviews that the author writes shorter fiction which makes my issues with the book more understandable.

This book will work for so many people but it just wasn't one for me.

Looking at the today's economics of private prisons and the continuous escalation of media sensationalism, the book's premise of prisoner death matches, feels like a not-too-improbable future. It's Hunger Games meets American Gladiators meets Big Brother meets Battle Royal. Told through a kaleidoscope of maybe too many eyes.

There were a few instances where I wanted the book to just SPELL IT OUT instead of characters or the narration keeping things vague.
I also wanted more numbers! If every week or so almost half of the chain gangs die, there needs to be an intense supply chain of new fighters.

3.5 rounded down

Loretta Thurwar and Hamara “Hurricane Staxxx” Stacker are the two biggest stars on BattleGround. Peerless warriors on the field, tender lovers off it — they are at the white hot centre of a massive media empire. They're also prisoners who fight to the death to gain their own freedom while entertaining the masses.

We've seen countless variations on this theme onscreen, so all credit to Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah for keeping our interest. We expect the corporate branding on the prisoners clothes and body, we're hardly surprised by the 24/7 coverage on and off the field, we expect the ravenous crowds screaming for blood and developing para-social relationships with people they would otherwise cross the street to avoid. But Adjei-Brenyah can script a bloody spectacle that puts you in the seats of the spectators and suddenly you might find yourself just as caught up in the world, just as complicit as the rest of the rabid fans.

There's an interesting thread with a wife of a super-fan, initially sickened by the bloody display on the field and ethically opposed to everything about the Criminal Action Penal Entertainment (CAPE) program that so captures her husband's interest. Initially a conscientious objector, we see her getting wrapped up in the drama that takes place off the field, invested in the relationship between Thurwar and Staxxx. Slowly she too comes around to the gladiatorial combat.

The activists protesting this barbaric spectacle are, perhaps aptly, a nuisance to the main story. Barely there, weakly gesturing at the inhumanity of the whole endeavour, backed up by the multiple footnotes that link the story to our world, to the current realities of America's carceral system. But their cries for justice and compassion are drowned out in the excited roar of the bloodthirsty crowds eager to see who will end up dead or “Low Freed” this time out.

The objections are clumsy and awkward and while appropriate, they kept jolting me out of the story and could hardly mount a credible defence against the pure momentum of the rest of the story. It felt off balance as a result.

Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah has written a novel that is unflinchingly violent and almost gruesome, but incredibly poignant and pointed at the same time. A world where convicts are forced to fight to the death for sport—and for the enjoyment of spectators who have no qualms about what they are watching—feels dystopian, but hews closely to our current abhorrent criminal incarceration system—something Adjei-Brenyah reminds us with no subtlety through footnotes and overt metaphor. It's a book that forces its messages on you, which can feel heavy-handed but still manages to be captivating because of the richness of the narrative and the well-written characters. It's not a book for everyone, but if you can stomach the violence and internalize the moralizing, it's a tour de force of storytelling.