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Fall Back Down When I Die
Wendell Newman, a young ranch hand in Montana, has recently lost his mother, leaving him an orphan, as his father met a violent end more than a decade earlier. His bank account holds less than a hundred dollars, and he owes back taxes on what remains of the land his parents owned, as well as money for the surgeries that failed to save his mother's life.
Into this situation comes seven-year-old Rowdy Burns, the illegitimate son of Wendell's cousin, who is incarcerated after falling prey to addiction. Traumatized, Rowdy is mute and damaged. Caring for him will be a test of Wendell's will and resolve, and yet he comes to love the boy more than he ever thought possible. That love will be stretched to the breaking point during the first legal wolf hunt in Montana in more than thirty years, when a murder results in a manhunt, and Wendell finds himself on the wrong side of a disaffected fringe group, hoping both to protect Rowdy and to avoid the same violent fate that claimed his father.
This dark and haunting debut novel is an unforgettable tale of sacrificial love, with two characters who win the reader's heart from the first page to the last.
Into this situation comes seven-year-old Rowdy Burns, the illegitimate son of Wendell's cousin, who is incarcerated after falling prey to addiction. Traumatized, Rowdy is mute and damaged. Caring for him will be a test of Wendell's will and resolve, and yet he comes to love the boy more than he ever thought possible. That love will be stretched to the breaking point during the first legal wolf hunt in Montana in more than thirty years, when a murder results in a manhunt, and Wendell finds himself on the wrong side of a disaffected fringe group, hoping both to protect Rowdy and to avoid the same violent fate that claimed his father.
This dark and haunting debut novel is an unforgettable tale of sacrificial love, with two characters who win the reader's heart from the first page to the last.
245 pages, Hardcover
First published March 12, 2019
51 people are currently reading
2807 people want to read
About the author
Joe Wilkins
36 books144 followersJoe Wilkins was born and raised on the Big Dry of eastern Montana and now lives in the foothills of the Coast Range of Oregon. He is the author of a novel, Fall Back Down When I Die, praised as “remarkable and unforgettable” in a starred review at Booklist. A finalist for the First Novel Award from the Center for Fiction and the Pacific Northwest Book Award, Fall Back Down When I Die won the High Plains Book Award and has been translated into French, Spanish, Italian, and German. Wilkins is also the author of a memoir, The Mountain and the Fathers, and four collections of poetry, including Pastoral, 1994, and When We Were Birds, winner of the Oregon Book Award. His second novel, The Entire Sky, is out now with Little, Brown. Wilkins directs the creative writing program at Linfield University and is a member of the low-residency MFA faculty at Eastern Oregon University.
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November 29, 2024
ASCIA DI GUERRA
Foto Dick Hoskins: Unsplash.
Tutti i capitoli prendono il titolo dai nomi dei personaggi protagonisti, ne vengono scanditi.
Verl, l’unico che racconta in prima persona, a brevi, spesso brevissimi capitoli – in prima persona perché si tratta di un diario, scritto nelle difficoltà estreme della sua fuga, braccato dalle legge sulle Bull Mountains – e che andando avanti si capisce essere il padre di Wendell, altro protagonista, poco più che ventenne, cowboy salariato, lui come Gillian, vicepreside e insegnante, anche di recupero e sostegno, raccontati invece da narratore extradiegetico.
Ma, tra i personaggi determinanti ne aggiungerei anche alcuni che non regalano titolo a nessun capitolo: per esempio, il piccolo Rowdy, figlio di Lacy, la cugina di Wendell, che è finita in prigione per spaccio e per avere abbandonato il suo bimbo di sette anni, autistico, forse epilettico, che Wendell prende in casa – bè, si fa presto a dire casa: trattasi di roulotte, di un trailer nel quale Wendell è nato e cresciuto – e man mano impara a sentire il bambino come suo.
E, Maddy la figlia adolescente di Gillian, che a stento ricorda Kevin, suo padre, morto quando lei era ancora piccola.
La terra dei lupi.
Al momento della morte Kevin aveva trentasette anni, innamoratissimo della sua famiglia, e del suo lavoro di guardiacaccia (in un territorio dove la caccia è attività tra le principali, e la si vorrebbe senza regole, vedi il lupo del titolo italiano – quello originale è Fall Back Down When I Die).
Trentasette, gli stessi anni che aveva Verl quando si è dato alla macchia: e infatti, i due si conoscevano bene, erano amici d’infanzia, legati da un patto di sangue.
Adesso la vedova di Kevin, Gillian, ne ha quasi cinquanta, e fa ancora molta fatica a gestire la perdita, il lutto del marito, e la gestione in solo della figlia.
Mentre Wendell adesso ne ha ventiquattro, dodici di più di quando suo padre si lasciò dietro moglie, figlioletto, trailer, per andarsi a nascondere sulle montagne inseguito dalle forze dell’ordine.
Ma qui i cowboy più che i cavalli usano le moto da cross.
Cos’è che li lega, che li tiene uniti, che man mano si dipana e li avviluppa, tra agnizioni, speranze, progetti falliti alla partenza, assenza di futuro, e nuove morti?
Due aspetti principali.
Il primo è l’abilità di racconto di Wilkins, cresciuto a pane e scrittura, docente della stessa: la sua struttura narrativa, l’intelaiatura del suo romanzo piace molto alla gente di cinema. Non so se i diritti siano opzionati o meno: ma posso dire che la trama, per come è costruita e per come si sviluppa ha molte assonanze con l’arte dello schermo, sia grande che piccolo. Che magnifica miniserie ne verrebbe fuori! Da mettere i brividi a Kevin Costner e alla sua divertente Yellowstone.
Il secondo aspetto è l’ambientazione, il Montana dove tutto si svolge, altro protagonista.
Uno di quegli stati che sta diventando sempre più importante in tempo d’elezioni.
Uno di quegli stati americani dove la wilderness è preponderante: ma l’uomo bianco è arrivato da tempo, e, prima ha respinto e fatto pressoché scomparire l’uomo “rosso” nativo (giunto dall’Asia quarantamila anni prima attraverso lo stretto di Bering?), poi ha segato, estirpato, costruito, asfaltato, cementificato, scavato, fatto esplodere, eretto barriere e dighe, deviato corsi d’acqua, distrutto, prodotto scarti spazzatura cenere fumi gas liquami veleni vari (che si sa sempre da dove iniziano, ma mai dove finiscono)…
Insomma, la classica trafila dell’umanità da qualche secolo a questa parte.
E la wilderness se ne è risentita: è diventata più aspra, secca, desolata, inquinata (bellissimo momento la descrizione del crepaccio nel canyon che da generazioni funge da discarica: Wilkins tiene a freno il suo afflato per la natura devastata, e molto matter-of-fact elenca tutto quanto scaricato e “conservato” laggiù).
Gli inverni sono sempre più corti, le estati sempre più lunghe. E le mezze stagioni? Non ci sono più, signora mia.
Questi soggetti (pseudo) umani del Montana tendono a votare sempre repubblicano. Tendono a credersi anarchici, ma dell’anarchia nulla hanno capito: il loro senso della comunità è sotto zero, stravince un individualismo sfrenato, sbandierato e protetto da grande (ab)uso di armi da fuoco: vanno in giro con la pistola nella fondina, pugnalaccio, e fucile con mirino telescopico. Quando non armi a mitraglia.
È la classica fetta di popolazione che ha sofferto da bestia durante i due mandati di Obama - passando il tempo a rimpiangere Bush jr, che per i loro gusti è stato fin troppo legalitario - e costruendo il futuro successo del pennellone col ciuffo (per noi italiani minima consolazione al ventennio berlusconiano: tra le altre cose, ad accomunare le due infauste presidenze un uso “selvaggio” del parrucchiere). Obama e le sue due presidenze (il romanzo si svolge durante la prima) li ha fatti sentire minacciati, attaccati, precari: non è bastato l’alcol, il piombo, il fumo, il vomito, le droghe farmaceutiche spacciate per antidolorifici calmanti sonniferi: occorre armarsi e reagire.
Tra gli animali più cacciati, e cucinati, ci sono i wapiti, questa sottospecie di cervo.
E allora ecco spiegati i lupi del titolo: il governo federale li ha introdotti e protetti, questi bipedi si sentono in pericolo, le mandrie (che non hanno e vorrebbero avere) li percepiscono come minaccia. Devono difendersi: ma, strana anomalia, questi autoproclamatisi anarchici hanno comunque grandi aspettative nei confronti del potere, statale e/o federale, che invece vorrebbero abolire, aspettano sempre di ricevere qualcosa.
Dopo decenni viene indetta la prima caccia legale al selvaggio canino: per molti di questi di questi (pseudo) umani del Montana diventa l’occasione per fare come quelli che con pelliccia e corna in testa hanno dato l’assalto alla Capitol Hill qualche mese fa.
Magistrale come, certo non per primo e neppure per ultimo, Wilkins demolisce il cosiddetto mito americano.
Foto Dick Hoskins: Unsplash.
Tutti i capitoli prendono il titolo dai nomi dei personaggi protagonisti, ne vengono scanditi.
Verl, l’unico che racconta in prima persona, a brevi, spesso brevissimi capitoli – in prima persona perché si tratta di un diario, scritto nelle difficoltà estreme della sua fuga, braccato dalle legge sulle Bull Mountains – e che andando avanti si capisce essere il padre di Wendell, altro protagonista, poco più che ventenne, cowboy salariato, lui come Gillian, vicepreside e insegnante, anche di recupero e sostegno, raccontati invece da narratore extradiegetico.
Ma, tra i personaggi determinanti ne aggiungerei anche alcuni che non regalano titolo a nessun capitolo: per esempio, il piccolo Rowdy, figlio di Lacy, la cugina di Wendell, che è finita in prigione per spaccio e per avere abbandonato il suo bimbo di sette anni, autistico, forse epilettico, che Wendell prende in casa – bè, si fa presto a dire casa: trattasi di roulotte, di un trailer nel quale Wendell è nato e cresciuto – e man mano impara a sentire il bambino come suo.
E, Maddy la figlia adolescente di Gillian, che a stento ricorda Kevin, suo padre, morto quando lei era ancora piccola.
La terra dei lupi.
Al momento della morte Kevin aveva trentasette anni, innamoratissimo della sua famiglia, e del suo lavoro di guardiacaccia (in un territorio dove la caccia è attività tra le principali, e la si vorrebbe senza regole, vedi il lupo del titolo italiano – quello originale è Fall Back Down When I Die).
Trentasette, gli stessi anni che aveva Verl quando si è dato alla macchia: e infatti, i due si conoscevano bene, erano amici d’infanzia, legati da un patto di sangue.
Adesso la vedova di Kevin, Gillian, ne ha quasi cinquanta, e fa ancora molta fatica a gestire la perdita, il lutto del marito, e la gestione in solo della figlia.
Mentre Wendell adesso ne ha ventiquattro, dodici di più di quando suo padre si lasciò dietro moglie, figlioletto, trailer, per andarsi a nascondere sulle montagne inseguito dalle forze dell’ordine.
Ma qui i cowboy più che i cavalli usano le moto da cross.
Cos’è che li lega, che li tiene uniti, che man mano si dipana e li avviluppa, tra agnizioni, speranze, progetti falliti alla partenza, assenza di futuro, e nuove morti?
Due aspetti principali.
Il primo è l’abilità di racconto di Wilkins, cresciuto a pane e scrittura, docente della stessa: la sua struttura narrativa, l’intelaiatura del suo romanzo piace molto alla gente di cinema. Non so se i diritti siano opzionati o meno: ma posso dire che la trama, per come è costruita e per come si sviluppa ha molte assonanze con l’arte dello schermo, sia grande che piccolo. Che magnifica miniserie ne verrebbe fuori! Da mettere i brividi a Kevin Costner e alla sua divertente Yellowstone.
Il secondo aspetto è l’ambientazione, il Montana dove tutto si svolge, altro protagonista.
Uno di quegli stati che sta diventando sempre più importante in tempo d’elezioni.
Uno di quegli stati americani dove la wilderness è preponderante: ma l’uomo bianco è arrivato da tempo, e, prima ha respinto e fatto pressoché scomparire l’uomo “rosso” nativo (giunto dall’Asia quarantamila anni prima attraverso lo stretto di Bering?), poi ha segato, estirpato, costruito, asfaltato, cementificato, scavato, fatto esplodere, eretto barriere e dighe, deviato corsi d’acqua, distrutto, prodotto scarti spazzatura cenere fumi gas liquami veleni vari (che si sa sempre da dove iniziano, ma mai dove finiscono)…
Insomma, la classica trafila dell’umanità da qualche secolo a questa parte.
E la wilderness se ne è risentita: è diventata più aspra, secca, desolata, inquinata (bellissimo momento la descrizione del crepaccio nel canyon che da generazioni funge da discarica: Wilkins tiene a freno il suo afflato per la natura devastata, e molto matter-of-fact elenca tutto quanto scaricato e “conservato” laggiù).
Gli inverni sono sempre più corti, le estati sempre più lunghe. E le mezze stagioni? Non ci sono più, signora mia.
Questi soggetti (pseudo) umani del Montana tendono a votare sempre repubblicano. Tendono a credersi anarchici, ma dell’anarchia nulla hanno capito: il loro senso della comunità è sotto zero, stravince un individualismo sfrenato, sbandierato e protetto da grande (ab)uso di armi da fuoco: vanno in giro con la pistola nella fondina, pugnalaccio, e fucile con mirino telescopico. Quando non armi a mitraglia.
È la classica fetta di popolazione che ha sofferto da bestia durante i due mandati di Obama - passando il tempo a rimpiangere Bush jr, che per i loro gusti è stato fin troppo legalitario - e costruendo il futuro successo del pennellone col ciuffo (per noi italiani minima consolazione al ventennio berlusconiano: tra le altre cose, ad accomunare le due infauste presidenze un uso “selvaggio” del parrucchiere). Obama e le sue due presidenze (il romanzo si svolge durante la prima) li ha fatti sentire minacciati, attaccati, precari: non è bastato l’alcol, il piombo, il fumo, il vomito, le droghe farmaceutiche spacciate per antidolorifici calmanti sonniferi: occorre armarsi e reagire.
Tra gli animali più cacciati, e cucinati, ci sono i wapiti, questa sottospecie di cervo.
E allora ecco spiegati i lupi del titolo: il governo federale li ha introdotti e protetti, questi bipedi si sentono in pericolo, le mandrie (che non hanno e vorrebbero avere) li percepiscono come minaccia. Devono difendersi: ma, strana anomalia, questi autoproclamatisi anarchici hanno comunque grandi aspettative nei confronti del potere, statale e/o federale, che invece vorrebbero abolire, aspettano sempre di ricevere qualcosa.
Dopo decenni viene indetta la prima caccia legale al selvaggio canino: per molti di questi di questi (pseudo) umani del Montana diventa l’occasione per fare come quelli che con pelliccia e corna in testa hanno dato l’assalto alla Capitol Hill qualche mese fa.
Magistrale come, certo non per primo e neppure per ultimo, Wilkins demolisce il cosiddetto mito americano.
January 13, 2019
4 Brilliant Stars.
A Book WIth Heart and Absolutely Fabulous Characters. It doesn’t get much better!
When Wendell Newman is asked to take care of his seven year old nephew, he feels that he has no choice but to say yes. Rowdy, is mute and shows signs of aggression and abuse. Wendell is almost a kid himself and hardly has two pennies to rub together, yet Rowdy needs him.
There are certain things, that have been out of Wendell’s control all of his life, his family, his past and most of his own life choices. With Rowdy however, Wendell sees him, as a chance to do something good and right some wrongs. The bond that grows between these two is immediate and fierce. If only everything in life was that easy.
Wendell is a man who is all heart. He gave it to Rowdy the second he met him and even though Rowdy doesn’t speak a word, his affection is clear. Both of these young men grabbed my heart from the start. Though this book starts a little slow, and left me with many a question throughout, the payoff is worth it. “Fall Back Down When I Die” is a novel that evokes emotion, plain and simple. Emotion for Wendell and Rowdy, emotion for Gillian, the High School Principal / Special Ed Teacher, who wants to help others but whose past won’t always let her. These characters ate at me. Made me wonder what hard living and pasts that just don’t quit must be like.
Admittedly, there was a moment or two when my eyes filled with tears and when a couple of drops fell. When my heart caught in my throat, tight tight tight. Oh yeah. This one gets to you my friends. My suggestion of course, is to find out for yourselves. When I close my eyes, I’m right back there.. Wendell and Rowdy.. and my heart is full.
A huge thank you to NetGalley, Little Brown and Company and to Joe Wilkins for an ARC of this novel in exchange for an honest review.
Published on Goodreads and NetGalley on 1.13.19.
Will be published on Twitter and Amazon on 3.12.19.
Excerpt to be published on Instagram.
A Book WIth Heart and Absolutely Fabulous Characters. It doesn’t get much better!
When Wendell Newman is asked to take care of his seven year old nephew, he feels that he has no choice but to say yes. Rowdy, is mute and shows signs of aggression and abuse. Wendell is almost a kid himself and hardly has two pennies to rub together, yet Rowdy needs him.
There are certain things, that have been out of Wendell’s control all of his life, his family, his past and most of his own life choices. With Rowdy however, Wendell sees him, as a chance to do something good and right some wrongs. The bond that grows between these two is immediate and fierce. If only everything in life was that easy.
Wendell is a man who is all heart. He gave it to Rowdy the second he met him and even though Rowdy doesn’t speak a word, his affection is clear. Both of these young men grabbed my heart from the start. Though this book starts a little slow, and left me with many a question throughout, the payoff is worth it. “Fall Back Down When I Die” is a novel that evokes emotion, plain and simple. Emotion for Wendell and Rowdy, emotion for Gillian, the High School Principal / Special Ed Teacher, who wants to help others but whose past won’t always let her. These characters ate at me. Made me wonder what hard living and pasts that just don’t quit must be like.
Admittedly, there was a moment or two when my eyes filled with tears and when a couple of drops fell. When my heart caught in my throat, tight tight tight. Oh yeah. This one gets to you my friends. My suggestion of course, is to find out for yourselves. When I close my eyes, I’m right back there.. Wendell and Rowdy.. and my heart is full.
A huge thank you to NetGalley, Little Brown and Company and to Joe Wilkins for an ARC of this novel in exchange for an honest review.
Published on Goodreads and NetGalley on 1.13.19.
Will be published on Twitter and Amazon on 3.12.19.
Excerpt to be published on Instagram.
March 13, 2019
A Rugged western, a ranch hand and a traumatized boy connected by an unexpected bond, a grieving assistant principal and her daughter and the violence that connects them all
Fall Back Down When I Die by Joe Wilkins is a western like story that captures the rugged and beautiful setting in Bull Mountains in eastern Montana and the conflicts that tie the people of the town together.
The story starts off slow as we get to know our main characters here through their different POV. Each with their own conflicts that connect them together and to the land around them. I was quickly drawn into the bond between the characters that won my heart right from the start. The story slowly unfolds until chaos erupts and violence threatens to tear them apart. The pace picks up and felt a bit rushed for me and I would of like to have seen more time spend on this part of the story. Despite this, in the end, it all came together well for me allowing me to feel those emotions I love to feel from an emotionally layered story. I highly recommend!
Thank you to Little Brown and Company and Hachette Canada for my copy to read and review.
Fall Back Down When I Die by Joe Wilkins is a western like story that captures the rugged and beautiful setting in Bull Mountains in eastern Montana and the conflicts that tie the people of the town together.
The story starts off slow as we get to know our main characters here through their different POV. Each with their own conflicts that connect them together and to the land around them. I was quickly drawn into the bond between the characters that won my heart right from the start. The story slowly unfolds until chaos erupts and violence threatens to tear them apart. The pace picks up and felt a bit rushed for me and I would of like to have seen more time spend on this part of the story. Despite this, in the end, it all came together well for me allowing me to feel those emotions I love to feel from an emotionally layered story. I highly recommend!
Thank you to Little Brown and Company and Hachette Canada for my copy to read and review.
December 14, 2019
A story that broke my heart. Wilkins writes from the heart of a poet. Here you will enter the rugged and endless space of eastern Montana and meet characters haunted by their memories and loss. Few books can make a place so thoroughly real. A father on the run listens for the sound of a wolf howling at the moon while his empty belly howls in refrain. His son, has a 7 year old mute child brought to his door. The son then becomes much like his missing father to the abandoned child. Many layers going on here. There is the sound of gunshots and then comes the hush between them. An unnervingly realistic and beautiful book.
February 26, 2024
4 stars!
A gritty, lawless, backwoods story.
Bull Mountains, Montana. Wendell becomes his cousins seven-year-old son’s guardian after his cousin goes to prison. Wendell, a young ranch hand, does his best to welcome and manage this new responsibility in his life while still struggling after his mother’s death.
I loved these characters! They were unique, real and endearing. This story unfolds through several character perspectives, each adding an intriguing layer to the plot.
A main theme is the cycle of rural poverty. This explores and provides thought-provoking detail from the families stuck in the bottomless depths of poverty and also the teachers and case workers who try to support them.
There is an adventurous tone to the book and some action toward the end that kept me interested and guessing.
Journal entries are scattered throughout the narrative which I enjoyed. It added a personal feel to the storytelling and kept the plot layered with bits of suspense.
I highly recommend this to gritlit fans. Thank you to the publisher for my review copy!
A gritty, lawless, backwoods story.
Bull Mountains, Montana. Wendell becomes his cousins seven-year-old son’s guardian after his cousin goes to prison. Wendell, a young ranch hand, does his best to welcome and manage this new responsibility in his life while still struggling after his mother’s death.
I loved these characters! They were unique, real and endearing. This story unfolds through several character perspectives, each adding an intriguing layer to the plot.
A main theme is the cycle of rural poverty. This explores and provides thought-provoking detail from the families stuck in the bottomless depths of poverty and also the teachers and case workers who try to support them.
There is an adventurous tone to the book and some action toward the end that kept me interested and guessing.
Journal entries are scattered throughout the narrative which I enjoyed. It added a personal feel to the storytelling and kept the plot layered with bits of suspense.
I highly recommend this to gritlit fans. Thank you to the publisher for my review copy!
March 10, 2019
4 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Brilliant and poetic read that will take you into the intoxicating landscapes of Montana. Beautifully descriptive language of this novel will teleport you to the Midwest and allow you to immerse in the lives of the characters and connect with each one of them on a very personal level. This was a surprisingly delightful book that awoke different emotions in me: sadness, compassion, amazement, disgust, anger, empathy, and love for the land that I have never visited before. I highly recommend this book to anyone that can appreciate descriptive writing with strongly developed characters💕💕
.
Thank you Netgalley, Little, Brown Company and the author, Joe Wilkins, for giving me an opportunity to read an ARC of this novel in exchange for my honest opinion 💕
Brilliant and poetic read that will take you into the intoxicating landscapes of Montana. Beautifully descriptive language of this novel will teleport you to the Midwest and allow you to immerse in the lives of the characters and connect with each one of them on a very personal level. This was a surprisingly delightful book that awoke different emotions in me: sadness, compassion, amazement, disgust, anger, empathy, and love for the land that I have never visited before. I highly recommend this book to anyone that can appreciate descriptive writing with strongly developed characters💕💕
.
Thank you Netgalley, Little, Brown Company and the author, Joe Wilkins, for giving me an opportunity to read an ARC of this novel in exchange for my honest opinion 💕
February 11, 2021
This book… What a masterful blend of character-driven, literary fiction (with poetic, melt-in-your-mouth sentences). Combined with the intense pacing of more commercial fiction, this is a book you don’t want to set down.
This novel was remarkable in several ways, and my first thought was that American journalists should read this fiction and take note. Why? Because this writing exemplifies perfect balance (Back in the day, when I studied journalism, we were taught that our journalistic stories were to be unbiased and cover both sides of a story). Well, Joe Wilkins achieves what most journalists simply can’t today. He presents two sides of a difficult story with empathetic eyes and incredible skill – fiction, yes, but rooted in reality.
If you had told me I would ever feel empathy toward law-breakers, or wolf hunters, I would have laughed in your face. Or more likely, I’d have pounced, citing any manner of ecological study I'd read about the importance of wolves, maintaining balance, respecting the earth. And yet, in one character in particular, there was dastardliness, but also compassion and humanity. Few authors can pull this off – the ability to characterize so well that even the seemingly least-human are made human. I cannot say enough.
This story spoke to me for multiple reasons: 1) my pro-wolf stance, 2) the poetic language, and 3) the fact that despite living in Arizona – versus Montana where the book takes place – the same divides over ranching, conservation, and government exist in my state. (I’ve been to conservation meetings where angry ranchers far outnumbered tree huggers). My county experiences the same inabilities to see one another’s perspectives.
I confess that I related most to Gillian (minus the hunting), but I appreciated the way the author handled even that – with grace and honesty. If you love landscape descriptions and appreciate getting into the heads of your characters for an emotional ride, this book simply will not disappoint. At its heart, this is a story of love: for family, for land, for a way of life, for wilderness. And a story that questions entitlement and honor.
Just one question, though: Why did this book not get the publicity it deserved? So disappointing when this happens to uber-talented authors. Wilkins has written poetry as well, which I plan to check out! In addition to my highlighted Kindle selections marked as visible (right under my star rating), a few other samples of the writing:
The land itself animated sorrow and anger, birthed and cradled and raised up failure and fear, a raw and righteous violence.
The clouds blackened and lifted and thinned to nothing. Then the nail holes of stars, the brittle, copper-smelling cold, the dark, hard wind.
Tavin couldn’t hear much of anything save the whir of his own breath. Like bees in me, he thought. Wasps.
This novel was remarkable in several ways, and my first thought was that American journalists should read this fiction and take note. Why? Because this writing exemplifies perfect balance (Back in the day, when I studied journalism, we were taught that our journalistic stories were to be unbiased and cover both sides of a story). Well, Joe Wilkins achieves what most journalists simply can’t today. He presents two sides of a difficult story with empathetic eyes and incredible skill – fiction, yes, but rooted in reality.
If you had told me I would ever feel empathy toward law-breakers, or wolf hunters, I would have laughed in your face. Or more likely, I’d have pounced, citing any manner of ecological study I'd read about the importance of wolves, maintaining balance, respecting the earth. And yet, in one character in particular, there was dastardliness, but also compassion and humanity. Few authors can pull this off – the ability to characterize so well that even the seemingly least-human are made human. I cannot say enough.
This story spoke to me for multiple reasons: 1) my pro-wolf stance, 2) the poetic language, and 3) the fact that despite living in Arizona – versus Montana where the book takes place – the same divides over ranching, conservation, and government exist in my state. (I’ve been to conservation meetings where angry ranchers far outnumbered tree huggers). My county experiences the same inabilities to see one another’s perspectives.
I confess that I related most to Gillian (minus the hunting), but I appreciated the way the author handled even that – with grace and honesty. If you love landscape descriptions and appreciate getting into the heads of your characters for an emotional ride, this book simply will not disappoint. At its heart, this is a story of love: for family, for land, for a way of life, for wilderness. And a story that questions entitlement and honor.
Just one question, though: Why did this book not get the publicity it deserved? So disappointing when this happens to uber-talented authors. Wilkins has written poetry as well, which I plan to check out! In addition to my highlighted Kindle selections marked as visible (right under my star rating), a few other samples of the writing:
The land itself animated sorrow and anger, birthed and cradled and raised up failure and fear, a raw and righteous violence.
The clouds blackened and lifted and thinned to nothing. Then the nail holes of stars, the brittle, copper-smelling cold, the dark, hard wind.
Tavin couldn’t hear much of anything save the whir of his own breath. Like bees in me, he thought. Wasps.
October 20, 2024
Peccato perché c'erano buone idee, ed anche la scrittura non è male: ma lo sviluppo è così pasticciato che la terza stella proprio non si può accendere.
Mi è occorso un po' di tempo per inquadrare il romanzo ed arrivare a definire che cosa stessi leggendo, eppure la risposta è sempre stata lì sin dalle prime pagine: un post-western.
...ma quando la porta si spalancò, tutto era come si aspettava. Nulla lasciava percepire il passaggio degli ultimi dieci, venti, addirittura trent'anni: le lampadine nude appese a cavi avvolti in festoni di polvere, la panciuta stufa a legna, la piccola libreria piena di western e romanzi d'amore, le sedie pieghevoli spaiate e il tavolo da biliardo con un lungo squarcio nel feltro verde. Il bancone - in legno di ciliegio filigranato e finemente intagliato, con pesanti spechi di cristallo che riflettevano le bottiglie chiare e ambrate - riportava ancora più indietro nel tempo, agli anni mitici prima del filo spinato, ai saloon e ai magnati del bestiame e agli spostamenti di mandrie immense, un'epoca in cui con la terra e la legge si faceva quel che si voleva.
Il romanzo è assai attuale: mette faccia-a-faccia l'America di Obama e l'America di Trump. In una nazione che percepisce così forte il sentimento di patriottismo, è davvero singolare che possa esserci una dicotomia talmente marcata e profonda. Per maggior condimento della trama, il faccia-a-faccia di cui sopra si intreccia con un omicidio a sangue freddo e tante storie personali e familiari. Peccato però che di tutte queste storie una buona parte rimanga solo appena sbozzata oppure abbandonata ancor prima di partire.
Stereotipati i personaggi femminili così come pure stereotipati certi meccanismi della trama. Originale e ben costruito invece il bambino autistico e traumatizzato, così come abbastanza realistico e non stereotipato il rapporto con il giovane zio/cugino che in pratica si ritrova ad adottarlo. I temi importanti come l'ecologia, ma anche le dipendenze da alcool e droga, il tema della redenzione e della ripartenza, sono solo appena introdotti in maniera sommaria e non certo sviscerati. Le metafore poetiche, invece, sono presenti in sovrabbondanza.
La parte migliore del libro consta in quelle panoramiche, nei momenti in cui i protagonisti si guardano intorno e provano a tirare le somme, grazie alle quali si arriva ad imparare - o per lo meno intuire - qualcosa di più a proposito della cosiddetta "pancia" dell'America.
Vendettero quasi tutto, caricarono quel che restava sulla loro Tercel a due porte, e puntarono dritti verso nord attraversando le aspre praterie del Texas, la sottile striscia di terra dell'Oklahoma occidentale, le distese angosciosamente piatte del Colorado, i saliscendi e i canyon del Wyoming - un lunghissimo tratto di Wyoming - finché non si trovarono all'ombra delle ciminiere delle raffinerie, e delle bulbose cisterne di petrolio con le loro scale a spirale, alle propaggini di Billings. [...] Mentre si spingevano ancora più a nord su per le Bull Mountains, coi loro crinali rocciosi e i loro canyon stretti e profondi, le yucca e i fichi d'India, Gillian le trovò troppo, toppo simili al grande territorio desertico che si erano lasciati alle spalle.
Passarono per la terra demaniale che costituiva il cuore delle Bull, una terra che un tempo era appartenuta ai Crow, ai grizzly e ai bisonti. Una terra colonizzata meno di un secolo prima e abbandonata non molto tempo dopo, e che adesso era una landa desolata di miniere di carbone crollate, baracche dal tetto sfondato e città fantasma di cui nemmeno i veterani della zona ricordavano più il nome, dove i rami secchi di linee ferroviarie in disuso si perdevano fra i cactus e le erbacce.
Era lì che tutto era cominciato? Con idee antiquate e miti insensati? Con l'imbecillità di bagnare i canali di scolo? Con l'assurdità di irrigare quella terra sterile? La terra dove i fallimenti della nazione, i fallimenti del mito, incontravano i fallimenti degli uomini. Dove la storia andava a morire. Dove i fiumi spumeggianti in aprile diventavano in agosto letti di ghiaia. Dove prima dell'aratura l'erba era dura e coriacea, e dopo l'aratura la polvere si sollevava dal crostone acido, alcalino, denudato dai solchi. Una terra devastata dai curculioni dei pini, da estati sempre più lunghe e inverni sempre più brevi e secchi. Era la terra stessa a creare sofferenza e rabbia, a generare e alimentare ed esasperare il senso di fallimento e la paura, una violenza cruda e giustificata.
Ognuno di noi ha un territorio che sente nelle ossa di poter chiamare casa. La forma del suolo che ci va a genio. [...] Noi siamo questo territorio. Lo conosciamo da prima. Se ci verrà tolto ne sentiremo la presenza fantasma come quando ti mozzano una mano. O magari è il contrario. Magari siamo noi a essere un organo della terra. Magri siamo noi i fantasmi e quando ce ne andiamo la terra è in lutto per noi. È così? Questo territorio piange la morte del mio vecchio nonno? Dei grizzly che se ne sono andati? Li rimpiange tutti e due?
Mi è occorso un po' di tempo per inquadrare il romanzo ed arrivare a definire che cosa stessi leggendo, eppure la risposta è sempre stata lì sin dalle prime pagine: un post-western.
...ma quando la porta si spalancò, tutto era come si aspettava. Nulla lasciava percepire il passaggio degli ultimi dieci, venti, addirittura trent'anni: le lampadine nude appese a cavi avvolti in festoni di polvere, la panciuta stufa a legna, la piccola libreria piena di western e romanzi d'amore, le sedie pieghevoli spaiate e il tavolo da biliardo con un lungo squarcio nel feltro verde. Il bancone - in legno di ciliegio filigranato e finemente intagliato, con pesanti spechi di cristallo che riflettevano le bottiglie chiare e ambrate - riportava ancora più indietro nel tempo, agli anni mitici prima del filo spinato, ai saloon e ai magnati del bestiame e agli spostamenti di mandrie immense, un'epoca in cui con la terra e la legge si faceva quel che si voleva.
Il romanzo è assai attuale: mette faccia-a-faccia l'America di Obama e l'America di Trump. In una nazione che percepisce così forte il sentimento di patriottismo, è davvero singolare che possa esserci una dicotomia talmente marcata e profonda. Per maggior condimento della trama, il faccia-a-faccia di cui sopra si intreccia con un omicidio a sangue freddo e tante storie personali e familiari. Peccato però che di tutte queste storie una buona parte rimanga solo appena sbozzata oppure abbandonata ancor prima di partire.
Stereotipati i personaggi femminili così come pure stereotipati certi meccanismi della trama. Originale e ben costruito invece il bambino autistico e traumatizzato, così come abbastanza realistico e non stereotipato il rapporto con il giovane zio/cugino che in pratica si ritrova ad adottarlo. I temi importanti come l'ecologia, ma anche le dipendenze da alcool e droga, il tema della redenzione e della ripartenza, sono solo appena introdotti in maniera sommaria e non certo sviscerati. Le metafore poetiche, invece, sono presenti in sovrabbondanza.
La parte migliore del libro consta in quelle panoramiche, nei momenti in cui i protagonisti si guardano intorno e provano a tirare le somme, grazie alle quali si arriva ad imparare - o per lo meno intuire - qualcosa di più a proposito della cosiddetta "pancia" dell'America.
Vendettero quasi tutto, caricarono quel che restava sulla loro Tercel a due porte, e puntarono dritti verso nord attraversando le aspre praterie del Texas, la sottile striscia di terra dell'Oklahoma occidentale, le distese angosciosamente piatte del Colorado, i saliscendi e i canyon del Wyoming - un lunghissimo tratto di Wyoming - finché non si trovarono all'ombra delle ciminiere delle raffinerie, e delle bulbose cisterne di petrolio con le loro scale a spirale, alle propaggini di Billings. [...] Mentre si spingevano ancora più a nord su per le Bull Mountains, coi loro crinali rocciosi e i loro canyon stretti e profondi, le yucca e i fichi d'India, Gillian le trovò troppo, toppo simili al grande territorio desertico che si erano lasciati alle spalle.
Passarono per la terra demaniale che costituiva il cuore delle Bull, una terra che un tempo era appartenuta ai Crow, ai grizzly e ai bisonti. Una terra colonizzata meno di un secolo prima e abbandonata non molto tempo dopo, e che adesso era una landa desolata di miniere di carbone crollate, baracche dal tetto sfondato e città fantasma di cui nemmeno i veterani della zona ricordavano più il nome, dove i rami secchi di linee ferroviarie in disuso si perdevano fra i cactus e le erbacce.
Era lì che tutto era cominciato? Con idee antiquate e miti insensati? Con l'imbecillità di bagnare i canali di scolo? Con l'assurdità di irrigare quella terra sterile? La terra dove i fallimenti della nazione, i fallimenti del mito, incontravano i fallimenti degli uomini. Dove la storia andava a morire. Dove i fiumi spumeggianti in aprile diventavano in agosto letti di ghiaia. Dove prima dell'aratura l'erba era dura e coriacea, e dopo l'aratura la polvere si sollevava dal crostone acido, alcalino, denudato dai solchi. Una terra devastata dai curculioni dei pini, da estati sempre più lunghe e inverni sempre più brevi e secchi. Era la terra stessa a creare sofferenza e rabbia, a generare e alimentare ed esasperare il senso di fallimento e la paura, una violenza cruda e giustificata.
Ognuno di noi ha un territorio che sente nelle ossa di poter chiamare casa. La forma del suolo che ci va a genio. [...] Noi siamo questo territorio. Lo conosciamo da prima. Se ci verrà tolto ne sentiremo la presenza fantasma come quando ti mozzano una mano. O magari è il contrario. Magari siamo noi a essere un organo della terra. Magri siamo noi i fantasmi e quando ce ne andiamo la terra è in lutto per noi. È così? Questo territorio piange la morte del mio vecchio nonno? Dei grizzly che se ne sono andati? Li rimpiange tutti e due?
May 11, 2022
[3.5] The title describes this novel well. It is tragic. Wilkins writes vividly about the harsh and stunning Montana landscape as well as the division between its people. My son and I read it as a buddy read and expected a fast paced novel - but this is a slow building character study.
May 27, 2020
I haven't reviewed a book on Goodreads in years because, to be honest, I kind of hate Goodreads. But I just finished this one and it is by far one of the finest works of American literature I've ever read. I'll add more thoughts later. Working on a blog post about it.
Review finished. From my blog at libbieslist.com:
I grew up in the Rocky Mountain West, so the setting appealed to me. I'm not a big fan of "Wayward child and adult in tricky situation form unexpected bond" stories--kids just aren't really my jam, to be honest--but I was willing to give the book a try anyway because all those other elements had snagged me. But from the moment I actually started reading, I understood that this book was more than merely "good." It was (and is) truly great. A great work of literature in every sense: stirring, affecting, poignant; handling with nuance a very fraught, difficult subject that nevertheless must be handled and confronted head-on. This book is about so much more than an adult and a child forging an unlikely bond--though the relationship between Wendell and Rowdy is central to the plot and is important (and much more moving than I expected it to be.)
Joe Wilkins' debut novel is really about the clash between Red and Blue America. It's about the places in the American landscape where liberal and conservative ideals smash into one another head-on and the particular kinds of tensions that unique conflict creates. It's a tension I am familiar with, having grown up in that sort of place; I can confirm that Wilkins represents the culture of the Rockies with heart-rending accuracy; he is clearly a person who also knows the place and its problems intimately. Set sometime during the Obama administration, this book is about a whole and complete picture of poverty and despair in the Western states--how poverty traps entire generations and shackles them to place; how devastating drug usage creeps in to fill voids that should be filled by the things a broken government fails to provide: dignity, education, healthcare, opportunity. It's about how oppressed populations in rural America obstinately continue to support politicians and policies who actively harm them, and how the liberal factions that are trying to do some good for those same populations fail to meet them where they're at, fail to understand them because rural Western white people have, for generations, lived on an entirely different planet from those of us who've had the benefit of some influence from the "coastal elites." Through the very human agonies and struggles of two central characters--Wendell, a young man doing his best in a very bad situation, and Gillian, a teacher and social worker still aching over the murder of her BLM-ranger husband more than a decade before--the impossible clash of conservative and liberal ideologies plays out with great sensitivity and understanding. Through the device of an old journal, the voice of Wendell's dead father, Verl, also threads through the narrative, providing insight into Wendell's current situation and the powder keg the Bull Mountain region has become in the years since Gillian's husband was killed.
The character work is nothing short of exquisite. Every single character in this book, no matter how minor, is shown with great dimension and tenderness, with touching and admirable compassion. Wilkins truly understands the root of this conflict. He truly understands the perspectives of people on both sides; he knows that there are no easy answers, that both sides are wounded and in great pain, and that healing will only come at the cost of yet more pain for everyone. No character, not even Verl, is a stock "bad guy", being a dick just for the sake of it. Everyone who does wrong does wrong because wrongs were done to him. The generations-long path of suffering is apparent, and there is clear compassion and rationality on every page. This is one of the finest examples of character work I've ever read. Wilkins' understanding of human nature and human need is so great that I could wish for him to be appointed to some kind of humanitarian, policy-making office in a new administration, though I suspect that would be a great curse on the guy.
The prose is pitch-perfect. I do love lush, "big" prose when it's done well (no surprise to anybody who enjoys my own books, which are, uh, DENSE WITH WORDS to say the least. No surprise to anybody who hates my books, either.) But I also have a great appreciation for a sparer style, which Wilkins delivers. It's mostly the voices of his characters, so beautifully established and faithfully adhered to, which make his tight, spartan prose read as impossibly poetic. Once you understand Wendell, Gillian, and Verl as people, it makes the scenery and emotions described through each character's distinct perspective that much more powerful and vivid.
A couple of my favorite passages. In Wendell's voice:
*
Wendell rocked and rocked, and Rowdy fell into a deep, thrashing sleep, his small body jerking through dreams. Wendell found himself reciting in his head the two lines from Macbeth that he remembered best. How goes the night, boy? Banquo inquires of his son Fleance, who is at the watch. And Fleance responds, The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
How goes the night, boy? The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
How goes the night, boy? The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
How goes the night, boy? The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
The way those two lines clicked and clacked, the way the father asks not after the son but after the night, and the son offers exactly that, the night--it all crushed down on his heart so wonderfully. Nearly a decade and a half had passed since Mr. Whearty had staged the play with them, and in that time Wendell had often chanted those lines to himself as he fixed the fence or drove the combine or rode for strays. It was Freddie Benson who'd played Feance, and in both shows he'd mumbled and tripped over those words--the moon is down; I have not heard the clock--and Wendell had been angry. Still was, in a way. After the show, on the drive home, he had complained to his mother about Freddie. He had tried to explain how much those lines mattered to him, and though she listened, she just smoothed her hand over his head, told him not to worry, that he'd been such a good, scary ghost.
*
In Verl's voice:
*
21?
Not even that much below freezing. And still so cold. Goddamn. How I would like a fire. I cannot have a fire. They are after me. Here is what I do. I dig down as deep as I can which is not too deep for soon there are roots and rocks but no matter I burrow in there like an old bear and heap sand and leaves and needles over me. It helps. Some. The rocks are hard beneath me and give me back some portion of my heat. I only wish against the wind. The trees in this dry country are scrawny as mutt dogs and the night wind scrapes along the top of me like a dull knife down to my bones.
I am sorry to go on like this. I should not complain. It is my own goddamn doing. I should have brung more clothes. More food. Should not have shot that deer. Should not have done many things.
I took this wolf tooth like it mattered.
Later
I think now we would get along. The wolf and me. It would be nice to hear her howl at a fat moon when I too am holed up beneath the moon.
My belly howling
Later
Her tooth at my throat. The length of her claws.
*
I just can't get over what a beauty and a wonder this book is. How sensitively it's written, with such care and love and knowing. It was the first book I finished in 2020 and so far I haven't found one to top it, though I've enjoyed quite a few tremendously. I have a feeling that Fall Back Down When I Die will remain one of my favorite novels for the rest of my life, and Joe Wilkins one of my favorite writers. It will certainly have a permanent place on my bookshelf.
Review finished. From my blog at libbieslist.com:
I grew up in the Rocky Mountain West, so the setting appealed to me. I'm not a big fan of "Wayward child and adult in tricky situation form unexpected bond" stories--kids just aren't really my jam, to be honest--but I was willing to give the book a try anyway because all those other elements had snagged me. But from the moment I actually started reading, I understood that this book was more than merely "good." It was (and is) truly great. A great work of literature in every sense: stirring, affecting, poignant; handling with nuance a very fraught, difficult subject that nevertheless must be handled and confronted head-on. This book is about so much more than an adult and a child forging an unlikely bond--though the relationship between Wendell and Rowdy is central to the plot and is important (and much more moving than I expected it to be.)
Joe Wilkins' debut novel is really about the clash between Red and Blue America. It's about the places in the American landscape where liberal and conservative ideals smash into one another head-on and the particular kinds of tensions that unique conflict creates. It's a tension I am familiar with, having grown up in that sort of place; I can confirm that Wilkins represents the culture of the Rockies with heart-rending accuracy; he is clearly a person who also knows the place and its problems intimately. Set sometime during the Obama administration, this book is about a whole and complete picture of poverty and despair in the Western states--how poverty traps entire generations and shackles them to place; how devastating drug usage creeps in to fill voids that should be filled by the things a broken government fails to provide: dignity, education, healthcare, opportunity. It's about how oppressed populations in rural America obstinately continue to support politicians and policies who actively harm them, and how the liberal factions that are trying to do some good for those same populations fail to meet them where they're at, fail to understand them because rural Western white people have, for generations, lived on an entirely different planet from those of us who've had the benefit of some influence from the "coastal elites." Through the very human agonies and struggles of two central characters--Wendell, a young man doing his best in a very bad situation, and Gillian, a teacher and social worker still aching over the murder of her BLM-ranger husband more than a decade before--the impossible clash of conservative and liberal ideologies plays out with great sensitivity and understanding. Through the device of an old journal, the voice of Wendell's dead father, Verl, also threads through the narrative, providing insight into Wendell's current situation and the powder keg the Bull Mountain region has become in the years since Gillian's husband was killed.
The character work is nothing short of exquisite. Every single character in this book, no matter how minor, is shown with great dimension and tenderness, with touching and admirable compassion. Wilkins truly understands the root of this conflict. He truly understands the perspectives of people on both sides; he knows that there are no easy answers, that both sides are wounded and in great pain, and that healing will only come at the cost of yet more pain for everyone. No character, not even Verl, is a stock "bad guy", being a dick just for the sake of it. Everyone who does wrong does wrong because wrongs were done to him. The generations-long path of suffering is apparent, and there is clear compassion and rationality on every page. This is one of the finest examples of character work I've ever read. Wilkins' understanding of human nature and human need is so great that I could wish for him to be appointed to some kind of humanitarian, policy-making office in a new administration, though I suspect that would be a great curse on the guy.
The prose is pitch-perfect. I do love lush, "big" prose when it's done well (no surprise to anybody who enjoys my own books, which are, uh, DENSE WITH WORDS to say the least. No surprise to anybody who hates my books, either.) But I also have a great appreciation for a sparer style, which Wilkins delivers. It's mostly the voices of his characters, so beautifully established and faithfully adhered to, which make his tight, spartan prose read as impossibly poetic. Once you understand Wendell, Gillian, and Verl as people, it makes the scenery and emotions described through each character's distinct perspective that much more powerful and vivid.
A couple of my favorite passages. In Wendell's voice:
*
Wendell rocked and rocked, and Rowdy fell into a deep, thrashing sleep, his small body jerking through dreams. Wendell found himself reciting in his head the two lines from Macbeth that he remembered best. How goes the night, boy? Banquo inquires of his son Fleance, who is at the watch. And Fleance responds, The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
How goes the night, boy? The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
How goes the night, boy? The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
How goes the night, boy? The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
The way those two lines clicked and clacked, the way the father asks not after the son but after the night, and the son offers exactly that, the night--it all crushed down on his heart so wonderfully. Nearly a decade and a half had passed since Mr. Whearty had staged the play with them, and in that time Wendell had often chanted those lines to himself as he fixed the fence or drove the combine or rode for strays. It was Freddie Benson who'd played Feance, and in both shows he'd mumbled and tripped over those words--the moon is down; I have not heard the clock--and Wendell had been angry. Still was, in a way. After the show, on the drive home, he had complained to his mother about Freddie. He had tried to explain how much those lines mattered to him, and though she listened, she just smoothed her hand over his head, told him not to worry, that he'd been such a good, scary ghost.
*
In Verl's voice:
*
21?
Not even that much below freezing. And still so cold. Goddamn. How I would like a fire. I cannot have a fire. They are after me. Here is what I do. I dig down as deep as I can which is not too deep for soon there are roots and rocks but no matter I burrow in there like an old bear and heap sand and leaves and needles over me. It helps. Some. The rocks are hard beneath me and give me back some portion of my heat. I only wish against the wind. The trees in this dry country are scrawny as mutt dogs and the night wind scrapes along the top of me like a dull knife down to my bones.
I am sorry to go on like this. I should not complain. It is my own goddamn doing. I should have brung more clothes. More food. Should not have shot that deer. Should not have done many things.
I took this wolf tooth like it mattered.
Later
I think now we would get along. The wolf and me. It would be nice to hear her howl at a fat moon when I too am holed up beneath the moon.
My belly howling
Later
Her tooth at my throat. The length of her claws.
*
I just can't get over what a beauty and a wonder this book is. How sensitively it's written, with such care and love and knowing. It was the first book I finished in 2020 and so far I haven't found one to top it, though I've enjoyed quite a few tremendously. I have a feeling that Fall Back Down When I Die will remain one of my favorite novels for the rest of my life, and Joe Wilkins one of my favorite writers. It will certainly have a permanent place on my bookshelf.
January 2, 2020
Of course it broke my heart ♥️
December 29, 2018
For all the think-pieces written on Trump's America, Wilkins' novel finally gives voice, breath, and pathos to the real people living out their lives in one of the most misunderstood regions in America. There are politics in Joe Wilkins' Fall Back Down When I Die, but only because, in today's Mountain West, politics are an inescapable tension. For readers of Ron Rash, Brad Watson, Jim Harrison, and Michael Farris Smith, comes Wilkins. This story of a young ranch-hand set with the impossible task of raising a young boy in a place caught in an ideological war simmering just on the verge of violence is woven masterfully into the story of a bleeding heart liberal teacher doing her best to do her best in a place resistant to change. Where you might fear and long for climactic violence as their lives come crashing together -- perhaps to justify a fear of this place and these people -- Wilkins withholds. What he offers instead is a seamlessly beautiful emotional arc anchored deep in the hard-dirt of this dispassioned and heart-worn country.
November 24, 2021
Joe Wilkins ha escrito un fascinante libro de la Norteamérica vacía con una lírica entramada en la naturaleza, montañas, cielos y estrellas siempre presentes. Personajes redondos con capacidad transformadora de una realidad decadente en su forma de entenderse con el medio natural donde habita. Se tratan varias situaciones de tremenda actualidad, ecología, economía rural, educación, alcoholismo y drogas, diversos modelos familiares, política y grupos de ultraderecha.
Y todo ello aderezado como una historia familiar y una violencia a veces emparentada al western o la película "El cazador" de Michael Cimino. He disfrutado de la lectura.
Y todo ello aderezado como una historia familiar y una violencia a veces emparentada al western o la película "El cazador" de Michael Cimino. He disfrutado de la lectura.
April 21, 2019
“He knew then what the difference was between them and the others—they thought they were owed something.”
In the mountains of rural Montana, two families linked by tragedy ultimately come around to their own form of redemption.
It’s a place where the locals live in poverty, convinced that the government is out to get them and never afraid to take justice into their own hands. Many of them are fatherless, and the fathers that are still around live by their own warped code of ethics, which they pass down, inevitably, to their sons.
Wendell, whose father disappeared into the woods years ago, has managed to chart his own way, keeping mostly to himself. He’s got a depth to him that the other men around him don’t. When his cousin’s young son Rowdy comes suddenly into his care, Wendell tries his best to do right by him.
But there’s a fatalism he can’t seem to escape by virtue of who he is and where he comes from.
This is a solid debut that challenges preconceived notions. It’s gritty and bleak, but not without hope and tenderness. The characters are brought together in ways that make sense, but often feel a bit too obvious and contrived. I found myself much more interested in some of them than others.
In the mountains of rural Montana, two families linked by tragedy ultimately come around to their own form of redemption.
It’s a place where the locals live in poverty, convinced that the government is out to get them and never afraid to take justice into their own hands. Many of them are fatherless, and the fathers that are still around live by their own warped code of ethics, which they pass down, inevitably, to their sons.
Wendell, whose father disappeared into the woods years ago, has managed to chart his own way, keeping mostly to himself. He’s got a depth to him that the other men around him don’t. When his cousin’s young son Rowdy comes suddenly into his care, Wendell tries his best to do right by him.
But there’s a fatalism he can’t seem to escape by virtue of who he is and where he comes from.
This is a solid debut that challenges preconceived notions. It’s gritty and bleak, but not without hope and tenderness. The characters are brought together in ways that make sense, but often feel a bit too obvious and contrived. I found myself much more interested in some of them than others.
January 24, 2020
This book caught my eye, as it was compared to “4th of July Creek.” Not quite as complicated as that book (which I loved despite its wanton violence and wildly messy plot). This one, also set in Montana, inched and then rushed through a building sense of dread from its opening pages.
Restless cows in a corral, pit bulls loose in a yard, boxes of shotgun shells from Walmart, a deer on a dark road, conspiracy theorists and their fans, the weather, the cold, spotty cell phone coverage...so much that can go wrong in Montana, big sky country.
It’s a merciless, brutal way of life in Montana. Joe Wilkins is a poet, and his writing shows a care with words. His way of describing the outdoors reminds me of the best of Peter Heller (and I am the type who prefers to think about The Outdoors rather than be outside in the actual outdoors).
It’s very unlikely that I would ever hike in or around the Bull Mountains, but this book made me feel like I have been there.
People in Montana aren’t making a living, they’re making a dying, as one character says at the end of the book. Nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. Oh, I forgot to mention the rattlesnakes.
Restless cows in a corral, pit bulls loose in a yard, boxes of shotgun shells from Walmart, a deer on a dark road, conspiracy theorists and their fans, the weather, the cold, spotty cell phone coverage...so much that can go wrong in Montana, big sky country.
It’s a merciless, brutal way of life in Montana. Joe Wilkins is a poet, and his writing shows a care with words. His way of describing the outdoors reminds me of the best of Peter Heller (and I am the type who prefers to think about The Outdoors rather than be outside in the actual outdoors).
It’s very unlikely that I would ever hike in or around the Bull Mountains, but this book made me feel like I have been there.
People in Montana aren’t making a living, they’re making a dying, as one character says at the end of the book. Nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. Oh, I forgot to mention the rattlesnakes.
January 6, 2019
There isn't a wrong note in Wilkins's new novel. He manages to pull off the development of characters simultaneous with a growing sense of unease, that something really bad is going to happen. We just don't know what, or to whom. Wilkins handles the landscapes and the clash of cultures around who that land and everything on it really belongs to, pitting neighbor against neighbor, outsider against local. It feels like everything I've loved about Wilkins's work -- poetry, essays, short fiction -- all came together in service to this brilliant piece of writing.
November 25, 2021
Por libros como éste adoro a mi librero, yo no habría sido capaz de llegar a él por mí mismo. Un trágico puzzle donde todas las piezas terminan encajando, aunque al principio no veas ninguna relación. Aunque no leas nunca esto, ¡gracias José Carlos!
July 11, 2022
Bonito y duro. Basura blanca intentando sobrevivir en un entorno difícil.
March 12, 2019
Fall Back Down When I Die by Joe Wilkins is a highly recommended politically laden drama set in Montana.
Wendell Newman, 24, is a ranch hand in Eastern Montana who is seriously in debt after his mother's death. He owes back taxes on the land he inherited and is paying off his mother's medical bills. When a social worker shows up, Wendell learns he is the only relative of seven-year-old Rowdy Burns, who is the son of Wendell's incarcerated cousin. Rowdy, who is mute and likely on the autism spectrum, moves in with Wendell and the two form a strong bond.
There is trouble brewing in Montana, between the cowboys and ranchers of the old West and the environmentalists, with the first legal wolf hunt, and increasing regulations being enforced on BLM land, and increasing state involvement with the rural families. As much as Wendell wants to stay out of it, he is a part of it simply because his father, Verl, took a stand years earlier and killed a man. Then Verl went into hiding and on the run, leaving his family behind.
The story unfolds between the point-of-view of three characters and chapters alternate between the voices of Verl, Wendell, and Gillian. The novel opens with the first person account of Verl, on the run and evading the law in the Big Dry mountains. His chapters consist of what he is writing to his son in one of Wendell's notebooks that he grabbed when leaving. Wendell and Gillian's narratives are told in third person accounts. Gillian is an assistant principal and counselor, who wants to help but also allows her own judgmental opinions of "rural stupidity" to color her actions. It was her husband, Kevin, that Verl killed years earlier. At the end of the novel two other voices are heard from.
The writing is beautifully descriptive and poetic as it carefully and skillfully captures the setting and the characters. The characters are all well developed and precisely depicted as individuals with their own beliefs and feelings. The novel is slow-paced at the beginning, taking time to describe the land and people as the story leads, inevitably to the haunting and heart-breaking climax.
All the characters are survivors and suffering from emotional damaged in some way. Wendell and Rowdy are wonderful characters and immediately captured my heart. Gillian, I must admit, caused conflicting emotions. She annoyed me since she just seemed to be so opinionated and judgemental about the people she was supposed to be helping, but I alternately had compassion for her and her own struggles.
Disclosure: My review copy was courtesy of Little, Brown and Company.
http://www.shetreadssoftly.com/2019/0...
Wendell Newman, 24, is a ranch hand in Eastern Montana who is seriously in debt after his mother's death. He owes back taxes on the land he inherited and is paying off his mother's medical bills. When a social worker shows up, Wendell learns he is the only relative of seven-year-old Rowdy Burns, who is the son of Wendell's incarcerated cousin. Rowdy, who is mute and likely on the autism spectrum, moves in with Wendell and the two form a strong bond.
There is trouble brewing in Montana, between the cowboys and ranchers of the old West and the environmentalists, with the first legal wolf hunt, and increasing regulations being enforced on BLM land, and increasing state involvement with the rural families. As much as Wendell wants to stay out of it, he is a part of it simply because his father, Verl, took a stand years earlier and killed a man. Then Verl went into hiding and on the run, leaving his family behind.
The story unfolds between the point-of-view of three characters and chapters alternate between the voices of Verl, Wendell, and Gillian. The novel opens with the first person account of Verl, on the run and evading the law in the Big Dry mountains. His chapters consist of what he is writing to his son in one of Wendell's notebooks that he grabbed when leaving. Wendell and Gillian's narratives are told in third person accounts. Gillian is an assistant principal and counselor, who wants to help but also allows her own judgmental opinions of "rural stupidity" to color her actions. It was her husband, Kevin, that Verl killed years earlier. At the end of the novel two other voices are heard from.
The writing is beautifully descriptive and poetic as it carefully and skillfully captures the setting and the characters. The characters are all well developed and precisely depicted as individuals with their own beliefs and feelings. The novel is slow-paced at the beginning, taking time to describe the land and people as the story leads, inevitably to the haunting and heart-breaking climax.
All the characters are survivors and suffering from emotional damaged in some way. Wendell and Rowdy are wonderful characters and immediately captured my heart. Gillian, I must admit, caused conflicting emotions. She annoyed me since she just seemed to be so opinionated and judgemental about the people she was supposed to be helping, but I alternately had compassion for her and her own struggles.
Disclosure: My review copy was courtesy of Little, Brown and Company.
http://www.shetreadssoftly.com/2019/0...
September 30, 2019
Though Wilkins’s novel broaches topical issues of the environment, and social disharmony, it carries with it the same problems that many contemporary American novels have had in the last few years for me; difficult to identify with characters, a reliance on improbable coincidences, but most of all a story that has potential losing momentum with frequent passages of irrelevant waffle. In striving to be politically correct it loses quite a bit also; which seems or be a feature of the country’s contemporary fiction.
The rugged beauty of rural Eastern Montana shines through though, and it is evident that Wilkins’s background is as a poet. This is his first novel, and he has some way to go before reaching the heights of those he quotes as his influences, chiefly Jim Harrison.
The rugged beauty of rural Eastern Montana shines through though, and it is evident that Wilkins’s background is as a poet. This is his first novel, and he has some way to go before reaching the heights of those he quotes as his influences, chiefly Jim Harrison.
January 9, 2020
God damn, I loved this book. I stayed up an hour later than I meant to because it was too intense to stop where I was (I even had a stomach ache), and then I woke up early to finish it before work.
I loved the writing style, the setting, and the plot, but mostly I loved how well the author understood the characters. Everyone was fleshed out and examined with both a sympathetic and a critical eye-- the Tea Party/anti-BLM ranchers, the teacher social worker, the alcoholic and near-alcoholic, the good high school student, the almost-fuck-up guy trying to do better, etc.
Woof. So good.
I loved the writing style, the setting, and the plot, but mostly I loved how well the author understood the characters. Everyone was fleshed out and examined with both a sympathetic and a critical eye-- the Tea Party/anti-BLM ranchers, the teacher social worker, the alcoholic and near-alcoholic, the good high school student, the almost-fuck-up guy trying to do better, etc.
Woof. So good.
April 21, 2021
Creo que uno de los logros de esta novela es la capacidad para crear un equilibrio entre la belleza y la crueldad, la inocencia y el dolor. Te llega pero sin dejarte hecho polvo. Sospechas que no acabará bien y a la vez quieres mantener la esperanza.
Me ha hecho reflexionar sobre la marca que supone sobre una persona su origen: el lugar donde nace, las personas que la criaron y las que no lo hicieron. ¿Se puede superar y que no defina por completo quién eres y quién puedes llegar a ser?
He terminado la lectura pensando en cuatro estrellas pero me ha dejado tan buen poso que se va a llevar las cinco.
Me ha hecho reflexionar sobre la marca que supone sobre una persona su origen: el lugar donde nace, las personas que la criaron y las que no lo hicieron. ¿Se puede superar y que no defina por completo quién eres y quién puedes llegar a ser?
He terminado la lectura pensando en cuatro estrellas pero me ha dejado tan buen poso que se va a llevar las cinco.
October 9, 2023
Wendell führte sie an die Lippen, das Bier schäumte wild in seinem Mund. Er kam nicht klar damit. Er wusste, dass er glücklich sein sollte, aber er war verlegen. Es erinnerte ihn an Macbeth. Wie gründlich alles schiefgehen konnte. Man zieht nicht ungestraft durch die Nacht und tut, was man will. (Auszug S.74)
Die Bull Mountains im Osten Montanas. Wendell Newman ist 24 Jahre alt und lebt allein im Familientrailer mitten im Nirgendwo. Seine Mutter ist vor kurzem verstorben, sein Vater seit langem vermisst. Wendell arbeitet als Helfer für alles beim Großgrundbesitzer Glen. Plötzlich taucht jemand von der Jugendhilfe bei ihm auf und übergibt ihm den siebenjährigen Rowdy, Sohn seiner Cousine, die zu einer Haftstrafe verurteilt wurde. Wendell ist anfangs arg überfordert, kümmert sich aber bald rührend um den Jungen.
Auch die Lehrerin Gillian und ihre fast erwachsene Tochter Maddie werden auf Rowdy aufmerksam, der anfangs überhaupt nicht sprechen will und sich in der Schule kaum zurechtfindet. Maddie näht sogar Kleidung für Rowdy und lernt Wendell kennen. Beide ahnen nicht, dass ein dunkles Ereignis aus der Vergangenheit sie verbindet.
Autor Joe Wilkins erzählt die Geschichte fast ausschließlich aus drei Blickwinkeln. Zum einen aus Wendells Sicht, zum anderen aus Gillians Sicht. Zuletzt lässt er noch Verl, Wendells Vater, mit einer Art Tagebuch zwischendurch zu Wort kommen. Wie der Leser nach und nach erfährt, hat Verl einen Ranger erschossen, ist in die Berge geflohen und seitdem verschollen. In kurzen Abschnitten richtet er auf der Flucht das Wort an seinen Sohn, zunächst wütend, im weiteren Verlauf versöhnlicher.
Die Geschichte ist eingebettet in einen politisch-gesellschaftlichen Hintergrund. Sie spielt zur ersten Amtszeit von Präsident Obama. In den ländlichen Regionen Amerikas, auch in Montana, formiert sich Widerstand gegen eine progressive Politik aus Washington. Obwohl die strukturschwache Gegend stark durch Bundesmittel alimentiert wird, lehnen viele den Staat und seine Repräsentanten ab. Jetzt ist angeblich ein Wolf aus dem Yellowstone-Nationalpark in die Bull Mountains gewandert und droht, einheimisches Vieh zu reißen. Es bilden sich Bürgerwehren und bewaffnete patriotische Gruppen, teilweise unterstützt von den Großgrundbesitzern. Bislang war das alles nur Säbelrasseln, aber ein Funke könnte eine Tragödie auslösen. Und auf diesen Funken arbeitet Autor Joe Wilkins ganz langsam hin.
Und der Tag verlor sich in seine Tiefen. Wurde zu einem kratzenden und knurrenden, luftholenden Etwas. Ein grosses, muskulöses Tier stellte sich auf seine Hinterbeine, richtete sich zu seiner vollen, schrecklichen Grösse auf und sog die untergehende Sonne, den schwachen Wind und die Abendlieder der Vögel in seine Lungen ein. Es atmete sie alle ein, als wären sie Staub, und atmete sie wieder aus. (Auszug S.278-279).
Der Autor stammt selbst aus der Gegend und lässt das ländliche Montana und seine Berglandschaften eine Hauptrolle in seinem Roman einnehmen. Die Beschreibung der Landschaft und seiner Bewohner – Mensch wie Tier – gelingt für meinen Geschmack herausragend. Überhaupt will Joe Wilkins hier keine schnelle Geschichte erzählen, sondern nimmt sich sehr viel Zeit für das Setting und führt im Stile eines Sozialdramas die beiden Hauptfiguren ein und enthüllt ihre Vergangenheit, ihre Abgründe und Sehnsüchte. Wendell, ein einsamer junger Mann aus schwierigen Verhältnissen, mit der rauen, gewalttätigen Seite der Gegend großgeworden. Er ist aber clever, belesen und lässt sich nicht so leicht vor den Karren spannen, auch nicht von denen, die seinen Vater für einen Märtyrer halten. Auf der anderen Seite Gillian, mittleren Alters, verwitwet, hat den gewaltsamen Tod ihres Mannes noch nicht überwunden, sucht Trost in wechselnden Bekanntschaften und Alkohol. Als Lehrerin aber sehr engagiert und bemüht, zumindest den Kindern dieser Rednecks eine Perspektive aufzuzeigen.
Wilkins‘ Roman birgt viele Facetten, ist zugleich Gesellschaftsroman, Western und Noir. Seine eindringliche Schilderung der Umstände und der Lebenswelt im Westen Montanas ist einerseits scharf und klar, gleitet anderseits auch immer mal wieder ins Lyrische, Poetische, Mystische ab. Der Roman scheint sich irgendwie an seinen Höhepunkt heranzuschleichen, an dem sich dann auch alles verdichtet und explosionsartig entlädt. Das hat mich sehr überzeugt, für mich ist „Der Stein fällt, wenn ich sterbe“ ein absolutes Jahreshighlight.
Die Bull Mountains im Osten Montanas. Wendell Newman ist 24 Jahre alt und lebt allein im Familientrailer mitten im Nirgendwo. Seine Mutter ist vor kurzem verstorben, sein Vater seit langem vermisst. Wendell arbeitet als Helfer für alles beim Großgrundbesitzer Glen. Plötzlich taucht jemand von der Jugendhilfe bei ihm auf und übergibt ihm den siebenjährigen Rowdy, Sohn seiner Cousine, die zu einer Haftstrafe verurteilt wurde. Wendell ist anfangs arg überfordert, kümmert sich aber bald rührend um den Jungen.
Auch die Lehrerin Gillian und ihre fast erwachsene Tochter Maddie werden auf Rowdy aufmerksam, der anfangs überhaupt nicht sprechen will und sich in der Schule kaum zurechtfindet. Maddie näht sogar Kleidung für Rowdy und lernt Wendell kennen. Beide ahnen nicht, dass ein dunkles Ereignis aus der Vergangenheit sie verbindet.
Autor Joe Wilkins erzählt die Geschichte fast ausschließlich aus drei Blickwinkeln. Zum einen aus Wendells Sicht, zum anderen aus Gillians Sicht. Zuletzt lässt er noch Verl, Wendells Vater, mit einer Art Tagebuch zwischendurch zu Wort kommen. Wie der Leser nach und nach erfährt, hat Verl einen Ranger erschossen, ist in die Berge geflohen und seitdem verschollen. In kurzen Abschnitten richtet er auf der Flucht das Wort an seinen Sohn, zunächst wütend, im weiteren Verlauf versöhnlicher.
Die Geschichte ist eingebettet in einen politisch-gesellschaftlichen Hintergrund. Sie spielt zur ersten Amtszeit von Präsident Obama. In den ländlichen Regionen Amerikas, auch in Montana, formiert sich Widerstand gegen eine progressive Politik aus Washington. Obwohl die strukturschwache Gegend stark durch Bundesmittel alimentiert wird, lehnen viele den Staat und seine Repräsentanten ab. Jetzt ist angeblich ein Wolf aus dem Yellowstone-Nationalpark in die Bull Mountains gewandert und droht, einheimisches Vieh zu reißen. Es bilden sich Bürgerwehren und bewaffnete patriotische Gruppen, teilweise unterstützt von den Großgrundbesitzern. Bislang war das alles nur Säbelrasseln, aber ein Funke könnte eine Tragödie auslösen. Und auf diesen Funken arbeitet Autor Joe Wilkins ganz langsam hin.
Und der Tag verlor sich in seine Tiefen. Wurde zu einem kratzenden und knurrenden, luftholenden Etwas. Ein grosses, muskulöses Tier stellte sich auf seine Hinterbeine, richtete sich zu seiner vollen, schrecklichen Grösse auf und sog die untergehende Sonne, den schwachen Wind und die Abendlieder der Vögel in seine Lungen ein. Es atmete sie alle ein, als wären sie Staub, und atmete sie wieder aus. (Auszug S.278-279).
Der Autor stammt selbst aus der Gegend und lässt das ländliche Montana und seine Berglandschaften eine Hauptrolle in seinem Roman einnehmen. Die Beschreibung der Landschaft und seiner Bewohner – Mensch wie Tier – gelingt für meinen Geschmack herausragend. Überhaupt will Joe Wilkins hier keine schnelle Geschichte erzählen, sondern nimmt sich sehr viel Zeit für das Setting und führt im Stile eines Sozialdramas die beiden Hauptfiguren ein und enthüllt ihre Vergangenheit, ihre Abgründe und Sehnsüchte. Wendell, ein einsamer junger Mann aus schwierigen Verhältnissen, mit der rauen, gewalttätigen Seite der Gegend großgeworden. Er ist aber clever, belesen und lässt sich nicht so leicht vor den Karren spannen, auch nicht von denen, die seinen Vater für einen Märtyrer halten. Auf der anderen Seite Gillian, mittleren Alters, verwitwet, hat den gewaltsamen Tod ihres Mannes noch nicht überwunden, sucht Trost in wechselnden Bekanntschaften und Alkohol. Als Lehrerin aber sehr engagiert und bemüht, zumindest den Kindern dieser Rednecks eine Perspektive aufzuzeigen.
Wilkins‘ Roman birgt viele Facetten, ist zugleich Gesellschaftsroman, Western und Noir. Seine eindringliche Schilderung der Umstände und der Lebenswelt im Westen Montanas ist einerseits scharf und klar, gleitet anderseits auch immer mal wieder ins Lyrische, Poetische, Mystische ab. Der Roman scheint sich irgendwie an seinen Höhepunkt heranzuschleichen, an dem sich dann auch alles verdichtet und explosionsartig entlädt. Das hat mich sehr überzeugt, für mich ist „Der Stein fällt, wenn ich sterbe“ ein absolutes Jahreshighlight.
March 5, 2019
via my blog: https://bookstalkerblog.wordpress.com/
'I should have been prepared in my head as I was in my hands. Let that be a lesson to you boy.'
Wendall Newman’s cousin Lacy finds herself in serious trouble for charges of possession of methamphetamine, child endangerment and willful neglect. He finds himself caring for her son Rowdy, a troubled 7-year-old little boy with communication delays. Barely getting by himself as a ranch hand, despite his rough surroundings and gruff appearance, Wendall comes to love his nephew and want nothing more than to do right by him. A certain type of poor all his life, he knows all too well the difficulties Rowdy faces, and the many ways the adults have failed him. With his father gone, Wendell was the sole heir of ruin, caring for his sick mother until her death, fatherless. Now he will do anything to give Rowdy the upbringing he deserves.
Verl Newman, Wendall’s father, long ago ran away into the Bull mountains, Montana after committing a murder. In the mean weeks that follow, he survives off the land and writes to his son in the school notebook he grabbed on the run ‘thinking to use for starting fires.’ With the feds on his tail, how could he possibly get this notebook, these words to his boy? “A boy should be able to hear his father always”, and yet they took even that from him. Wendall killed a wolf, against the laws, the government is a wolf itself, keeping a man from a living, forcing him to cower, beg. When a man comes and turns against his friend, his heart no longer brave, honest what can he expect but violence? What other choice did Verl have than save what was his family’s very livelihood? Not everyone sees Verl’s act as monstrous, some outright admire the courage of his convictions, which echos through the years within a resistance group.
Gillian works as the school counselor and tries to cope with her own loss, raising her daughter alone after her husband Kevin’s murder. Student Tavin, whose family is a part of the Bull Mountain Resistance, has been missing too many days of school, yet it’s impossible to gingerly approach his mother, on alert for any interference from officials. Gillian fears the boy will fall into a cycle of poverty, poisoned by the ‘rural stupidity’ of the men in his life, like so many others. She knows exactly the sort of horrors such beliefs can lead to, how many lives can be destroyed.
Maddy, Gillian’s daughter, comes to care for Rowdy, and has more in common with Wendall than she could have imagined. The three will need each other for their very survival as all the stories converge. Good and bad blends, and the bones of the dead rattle into the future of their unfortunate children. It’s a painful tale of family, poverty, the ugly history of inheritance and the tragedy of fate. Yes read it!
Publication Date: March 12, 2019
Little, Brown and Company
'I should have been prepared in my head as I was in my hands. Let that be a lesson to you boy.'
Wendall Newman’s cousin Lacy finds herself in serious trouble for charges of possession of methamphetamine, child endangerment and willful neglect. He finds himself caring for her son Rowdy, a troubled 7-year-old little boy with communication delays. Barely getting by himself as a ranch hand, despite his rough surroundings and gruff appearance, Wendall comes to love his nephew and want nothing more than to do right by him. A certain type of poor all his life, he knows all too well the difficulties Rowdy faces, and the many ways the adults have failed him. With his father gone, Wendell was the sole heir of ruin, caring for his sick mother until her death, fatherless. Now he will do anything to give Rowdy the upbringing he deserves.
Verl Newman, Wendall’s father, long ago ran away into the Bull mountains, Montana after committing a murder. In the mean weeks that follow, he survives off the land and writes to his son in the school notebook he grabbed on the run ‘thinking to use for starting fires.’ With the feds on his tail, how could he possibly get this notebook, these words to his boy? “A boy should be able to hear his father always”, and yet they took even that from him. Wendall killed a wolf, against the laws, the government is a wolf itself, keeping a man from a living, forcing him to cower, beg. When a man comes and turns against his friend, his heart no longer brave, honest what can he expect but violence? What other choice did Verl have than save what was his family’s very livelihood? Not everyone sees Verl’s act as monstrous, some outright admire the courage of his convictions, which echos through the years within a resistance group.
Gillian works as the school counselor and tries to cope with her own loss, raising her daughter alone after her husband Kevin’s murder. Student Tavin, whose family is a part of the Bull Mountain Resistance, has been missing too many days of school, yet it’s impossible to gingerly approach his mother, on alert for any interference from officials. Gillian fears the boy will fall into a cycle of poverty, poisoned by the ‘rural stupidity’ of the men in his life, like so many others. She knows exactly the sort of horrors such beliefs can lead to, how many lives can be destroyed.
Maddy, Gillian’s daughter, comes to care for Rowdy, and has more in common with Wendall than she could have imagined. The three will need each other for their very survival as all the stories converge. Good and bad blends, and the bones of the dead rattle into the future of their unfortunate children. It’s a painful tale of family, poverty, the ugly history of inheritance and the tragedy of fate. Yes read it!
Publication Date: March 12, 2019
Little, Brown and Company
March 3, 2020
Valoración: 4,5/5
“El hueco de las estrellas” es una novela que nos sumerge en la América profunda actual. En una realidad brutal y cruel.
Una historia sobrecogedora y desgarradora de amor y violencia pero narrada con una prosa, a veces poética, conjugando a la perfección el entorno y los sentimientos de los personajes.
Una historia narrada a tres voces sobre la vida y la tierra llena de dolor, odio, rencor y una desesperanza que lleva al ser humano al límite y a la sinrazón y por ende a cometer actos brutales.
Personas que como escribió Raymond Chandler «se sentían tan huecos y vacíos como el espacio entre las estrellas».
Una novela que rompe poco a poco al lector a través de los huecos de las palabras.
Una lectura maravillosa para saborear poco a poco y así poder sentir el viento que atraviesa las copas de los cedros, el olor de la hierba de los pastos y disfrutar de ese cielo inmenso.
“El hueco de las estrellas” es una novela que nos sumerge en la América profunda actual. En una realidad brutal y cruel.
Una historia sobrecogedora y desgarradora de amor y violencia pero narrada con una prosa, a veces poética, conjugando a la perfección el entorno y los sentimientos de los personajes.
Una historia narrada a tres voces sobre la vida y la tierra llena de dolor, odio, rencor y una desesperanza que lleva al ser humano al límite y a la sinrazón y por ende a cometer actos brutales.
Personas que como escribió Raymond Chandler «se sentían tan huecos y vacíos como el espacio entre las estrellas».
Una novela que rompe poco a poco al lector a través de los huecos de las palabras.
Una lectura maravillosa para saborear poco a poco y así poder sentir el viento que atraviesa las copas de los cedros, el olor de la hierba de los pastos y disfrutar de ese cielo inmenso.
April 6, 2022
3 1/2. I really loved the characters, storyline and the author's writing. However, this book lost half a star from me because it seems very one sided. The author only shares one side of rural living which basically says that the old ways of making a living off the land are bad and that the small town minded rednecks are destroying the land and all that goes with it. I am a conservationist and agree with many of the environmental issues brought up in this book however my great-grandfather was a farmer. My grandfather grew up on this Farm. Living off the land and what it provides is a hard life in of itself. Some of the restrictions that the government regulates makes life even harder for them. Where would we be without farmers? My only intent in this review is to shed light on both sides because they're equally important.
December 6, 2019
This darkly compelling book has the feel of a western, or maybe a western thriller with psychological undertones. Some achingly beautiful descriptions of Montana and the people who live there. The story of lost Wendell and the mute youngster he must care for is touching, sad and will haunt you for days.
September 1, 2020
I honestly don't know what the fuss is about this book. It was very leftwing biased rubbish while painting small-town America as backward and ignorant. And the story was found lacking, to say the least. Although there was poetic prose sprinkled throughout the pages, I found there to exist little substance within the story or its characters. I give it two bold stars.
August 6, 2019
This book snuck up on me but quickly became unputdownable. Wow. The title is oddly onerous (though referenced in the text), but the rest of the spare yet lush (somehow) writing and story arc really stuck with me. I read a lot. This is the only review I have ever bothered to write.
October 14, 2019
Another entry for best book I’ve read this year. Haunting exploration of the ways the land carves fates into men, women, and children. And the ways we hunt each other. The prose was stunning in places. Bits of Cormac McCarthy and Marilynn’s Robinson in there together.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 191 reviews