Travis Fisher is an outsider in most places, but nowhere more than the small midwestern town of Haute Montagne. But when his mother dies, leaving him parentless and jobless in the midst of the Great Depression, his stern aunt and uncle are the only ones who will take him in.
When Travis falls in love with Nancy Wilcox, the rebellious daughter of the Baptist Ladies Association president, things become worse. With murderous transients roaming the countryside, Haute Montagne closes ranks, casting them out.
In this moment of distress, a mysterious yet hauntingly beautiful woman reaches out to them with a cry for help. Stranded in the small midwestern town, she is a being from another world, and she is dying. Only the two young lovers can help her, but to do so, they must find her dark, masculine half–and in so doing, confront the demons that threaten to tear them apart.
This is one of Robert Charles Wilson’s earlier novels, and I enjoyed it quite a bit. It’s very short, yet well crafted and beautifully written. Wilson’s prose is extremely evocative, and his descriptions of Haute Montagne brought back childhood memories from when I lived in the Midwest. The story was also done well, and had a very satisfying ending.
While this is a good book, though, I wouldn’t say that it’s Wilson’s best. His characters were interesting, but not nearly as compelling as those in Spin. The baptists were a little too villainous, though Travis’s aunt and uncle were individually more complex.
In spite of all this, however, the story was structured so well that the poignance of it largely overcame these flaws. As a writer, that’s what I found most interesting about this book–how the masterful way the story was constructed made the whole greater than the sum of the parts. Call it the monomyth, the hero’s journey, or whatever else, but something about this story made it reverberate in a powerful way.
I suppose that this is what all great stories do: echo some greater, universal story that is in all of us. It’s the same echo that I felt when I read Spin, or Ender’s Game, or The Neverending Story, albeit a little softer. It’s something that I hope my own stories evoke, this sense of clarity and wholeness, of returning to some great truth that we lost somewhere between birth and adulthood.
I don’t know if I’m making any sense, but those are my thoughts. It’s a short read, and I enjoyed it quite a lot. If you can find it, it’s a good one to pick up.
