Existentialist Noir: ‘Drive’ (James Sallis, 2005)

A review of ‘Drive’ by James Sallis, 2005.

Drive is described as an existentialist neo-noir. On first inspection, it can be hard to see why. There isn’t much discussion of purpose, being, or meaning within it. It’s usually the opposite. For the majority of the novel, he just drives.

Driver (the protagonist’s only given name) is a stunt driver by day and getaway driver by night. He’s skilled at both, and not a bad fighter either—though only when he’s pushed to it. The criminal life draws him in as a young, purposeless man, after his one stint at normality is cut violently short. After a job gone wrong, he must plunge ever deeper into the criminal underworld of LA.

If Sallis can be credited for one thing, it’s making a believably skilled protagonist. There’s no Reacher Ubermensch here. Driver knows what he’s talking about. You can see him fail and learn, test and experiment. The reader can plausibly believe Driver knows what he’s doing.

But why is he doing any of it?

This is where I expected the existentialism to come in. But for most of the novel, driver is focused on the next scene, the next job, and making it through the next day. His idle hours are spent preparing for his work, or whiling away his time anonymously as possible.

And maybe that’s what Sallis was trying to say? American life, especially in the hyper-consumerist world of LA, is all about chasing the dream, never about living it. At one point, Driver starts to make a name for himself as an actor, but drops it to chase bigger getaway jobs. When they go south, he’s forced into deeper and more dangerous territory just to keep his head above water (and above ground). Driver has the skill and he has the drive (get it?). But he doesn’t have any purpose. He hurtles down highways because he’s the best at it, not because there’s any destination at the end. His aptitude never fills in the deeper meaning that the society around him lacks. So in that sense it could be read as existentialist, even if the bulk is pulp and grit. You could even draw out a tortured metaphor that Driver’s purpose is always to run away from something, but never get anywhere in particular.

I don’t mean any of this to defame the novel. I really enjoyed it. It was a straightedge and pacy read with impeccable setting and memorable characters. And on reflection, the existential undertones work well—I just suspect I might be reading a bit more into it than is actually there. Or maybe I’m being unfair to Sallis.

Driver might be the best in the business, but even for him, there’s no running away from the void of meaning in the Americana soul.

-by Ben Shread-Hewitt