A couple of times a year, the
Friends take a much deserved break and meet at a restaurant rather than cook. So
while I don’t have a mouth-watering recipe to tempt you this month, I do have a delicious book to whet your literary appetite: A Land More Kind Than Home by
Wiley Cash.
I was a little anxious about how the
Friends would receive this book—first, because I was the one who nominated it,
and second, because it contains disturbing content. But when I read it last
fall—at the recommendation of my friend Martha Bryant—I found it...let’s say
somewhere between engaging and enthralling, leaning heavily toward enthralling.
In his debut novel, Cash authentically captures the essence of the South without
making all the characters appear to have been inbred (although, the reader may
have suspicions about a few), and through the voices of three separate
narrators, he tells a haunting and compelling story.
Be warned, this story is not for the
squeamish. There are scenes of brutality and blood. And, because the plot
revolves around the activities of a “charismatic,” snake-handling preacher,
there are some beyond creepy scenes. For these reasons, a couple of Friends
were not fans of the work. But most found it intriguing and thought-provoking. And
it generated interesting discussion, something I consider a hallmark of a good
book.
Among the novel’s strengths:
1) A clear, well-defined villain. One of the
tenets of literature is that in order to be believable, characters should be
neither all good nor all bad. I don’t necessarily buy into that theory. I found
Carson Chambliss, the preacher in this story, to be evil incarnate and still
very convincing.
2) A balanced
approach in dealing with religion/Christianity. When I started reading it, my
immediate reaction to A Land More Kind Than Home was “Here we go...another
story about stereotypical southerners, who cling to their guns [or in this
case, snakes] and their religion.” But I didn’t have to read long, before I realized
Cash wasn’t following this pattern. He balances the evil of his preacher with
the goodness and sacrificial love of Addie Lyle, who has spent her life helping
people and trying to save the children of Chambliss’s church from his controlling, deadly grip.
3) Redemption
and hope. To be worthy of my reading time, a story must offer these two elements. I don’t insist on a rosy ending—and believe me, this novel
doesn’t have one—but I do want to finish a book with expectations that people
can survive and persevere under trying circumstances, that people can
experience a positive change of heart, and that ultimately good can triumph
over evil. A Land More Kind Than Home
fulfills these expectations.
4) Literary merit.
In the highly unlikely event Cash should ever read this post, I hope he doesn’t
say, “Huh? Where’d she come up with that?” And maybe it’s too much of my inner
English teacher coming out, but I found the archetypes—among them, Chambliss,
the serpent who beguiles and destroys; Christopher, the innocent, whose death
ultimately saves others—skillfully woven into a modern tale of good versus
evil. Along with those are mesmerizing imagery and engrossing characters.
If there is a negative to this book,
it is the pacing. At times, the story seems to drag with unnecessary details,
especially when nine-year-old Jess narrates. Then again, those details are
authentic to the perspective of a young boy and perhaps necessary. And the
story’s strengths all but cancel out this minor flaw.
So, I guess you can tell I liked
this book. Really liked it. I look
forward to more work from this gifted southern writer. Your thoughts?
