Reviewed by Lily Andrews
From the moment Perry Barnes opened his mouth, I knew I was in for more than a story about golf. Told through the lens of Roger Mace, an earnest, aspiring writer and amateur golfer determined to collect honest, unembellished life stories, "Hunting the Red Fox" by W. Kenneth Tyler, Jr., unfolds as a novel that reads like a true account, blending historical fiction, sports, espionage, and personal reinvention. As Mace listens, Barnes, an enigmatic 82-year-old with a disarmingly smooth voice and a shadowy past, reveals far more than tales from the PGA Tour in the early 1950s, with one earlier appearance during World War II. What begins as a look back at his golfing days in the 1950s soon gives way to a sweeping, layered confession, one that traverses war, theft, deception, love, and the fragile pursuit of redemption.
The story centers on Perry Barnes, an 82-year-old Southern gentleman whose charm and mystique immediately draw you in. As he begins to peel back the layers of his past, it becomes increasingly clear both to the reader and to Mace that what he is about to reveal has never been spoken out loud before, not even to his wife.
Barnes’ confessions unfold in unexpected bursts. They are stories of wartime missions that never officially happened and high-stakes encounters where the wrong move could mean a life lost or a secret exposed, as well as one impossible decision involving a priceless object and a promise made in the dark. At times, they leave Mace speechless, his pen hovering in midair, unsure whether he's listening to fact or fable until Barnes provides just enough detail to make disbelief impossible.
These aren’t the nostalgic ramblings of an old man clinging to faded glory but rather the haunting recollections of someone who has lived on the edge of history, love, and law and who now seeks not forgiveness but to be fully known before it’s too late. Barnes does not seek pity, nor redemption, nor even understanding but rather wants to be seen for who he truly is, not just the golfer, the gentleman, or the husband, but the man behind the "carefully constructed" life, the man shaped by war, tempted by power, shadowed by regret, and compelled by something he still cannot name. Through his story, the author speaks powerfully to something far greater than one man’s extraordinary past- to the universal longing to get known before we are forgotten, to reckon with the choices that shaped us, and to confront the truths we’ve spent a lifetime burying. He also speaks to the fragile, often uncomfortable space between who we were, who we may have pretended to be, and who we might have become.
"Hunting the Red Fox" doesn’t rush in waving flags or demanding your attention with loud, dramatic scenes. It rather unfolds like a conversation you're lucky to overhear, gradually pulling you closer and drawing you into something far more layered and unexpected than you initially thought. Structurally, the novel is framed through interviews that give the narrative both intimacy and tension while allowing the past and present to sit beside each other, overlapping in ways that feel natural and emotionally earned. The story development itself has been handled with a kind of quiet confidence and in a manner that requires the reader to be patient, to pick up on small details, and to recognize that even in seemingly light moments something weightier may be brewing beneath the surface. In terms of pacing, this isn’t a thriller in the traditional sense, though it carries the tension and intrigue of one. Instead, the book takes its time, letting scenes breathe and allowing the backstory to unfold at a human rhythm, much the way someone might tell you their life story across several evenings. There are, however, moments when the pace slows down, such as when Barnes reflects on his childhood or the mechanics of golf or wartime detail, but these aren’t fillers; rather, they serve as essential grounding points. The prose is clear, unpretentious, and conversational, which suits the oral-history-style narrative beautifully. The language is never flowery or overwrought, but it’s smart and deliberate, with a kind of Southern lilt that is particularly effective in the way word choice mirrors character.
"Hunting the Red Fox" by W. Kenneth Tyler, Jr., sparkles especially in how the author layers the mystery, not in a puzzle-box, high-stakes kind of way, but through character revelation, through implication, and through the emotional weight of memory. Readers will love how it carries the sense that something is always being withheld. It will appeal to a broad spectrum of readers, from those who enjoy watching a life unfold in slow, textured detail to those who enjoy slipping into time periods like the 1930s to 1950s, where world events and personal decisions intersect in meaningful, sometimes unexpected ways.
