In Mosley's arguably most popular work, Devil In a Blue Dress, with a film of the same name under its belt, we are introduced to the detective Ezekiel (Easy) Rawlins. As Easy endeavors to save his house (the one thing in the world he loves) by unraveling the mystery of one Daphne Monet (the one character wearing a blue dress, hmm...), he is afflicted by one act of violence after another. Some he commits himself. But most are committed by a range of love-to-hate-'em supporting characters and antagonists.
I will say that the depiction of violence in this novel—from lead pipes to the head, to gunshots and gunwounds, to knives nicking the neck, to hate-saturated examples of outright discrimination—are what fuels the narrative. The mystery adds fuel too, but while reading this unputdownable book I found myself craving and even being afraid of the violence. The intimation of violence to come. The way Easy thought about doing violence and reflected upon the violence done.
In any regards, what I really want to talk about is this inner voice of Easy's. It appears earlier in the book, I believe, but it's not identified as the voice in the back of Easy's mind until about halfway through. The voice informs Easy what he needs to do, particularly in violent situations, in order to survive. Easy actually credits the voice with getting him out of some tough spots, from the war onwards, and that's why he always listens to what the voice tells him.
I wrote about voices in the author's head here, but a voice in the hero's head?
Intriguing...
Since Easy has a whole host of characters to have dialogue with (it's great dialogue, btw), why does he need to have an inner dialogue? Well, it's more of an inner command. An icy, calculating, rough voice that tells Easy exactly what he needs to do—kill, run, whatever—even if Easy himself has moral conundrums about doing it.
Also, why is the voice identified halfway through the book? I believe it's because the stakes for Easy are increasing at that point. He needs the voice now to get him through some truly rough business.
That, also, partially lends to the answer of why Easy needs an inner dialogue at all (inner command). The other part of that answer is that it's functional. It gets Easy to do, as a character in a plot, what he needs to do. And yet another answer is that it's psychological.
Usually when we think of voices in our heads, we swing from that FedEx guy on a an island in the film Cast Away (he invented voices for reasons of companionship), to Gollum out of his cave in the Lord of the Rings (Sméagol/Gollum dilemma—schizophrenic voices), to serial killers saying it's the voices that told them to do it (psychopathic voices).
So when it comes to Easy, I think Easy is a little mad. Just a dollop. He has to be in order to survive in the world Mosley's created for him. Also, Easy is alone. In the genuinely good thing that he wants: to save his house, his little piece of property that is all his. Also, he's alone in his quest to right the wrongs committed by Daphne Monet and other characters. These also happen to be the things that define Easy's own character most deeply, I believe.
Easy's inner voice is just that one extra sliver of what defines him. The fact that it reveals itself in the most dire of situations means that his inner voice is why he keeps on surviving these situations at all. It's existence is thus a little mysterious. A little uncanny and, almost, supernatural. Yet it exists, like a tough-talking, no-nonsense guardian angel with a little devil sprinkled in. And, I believe, it adds incredible depth to Easy's character and the story overall. If I read more of Mosley's series featuring Easy Rawlins, it will be because of the voice.