Witches on the Road Tonight, (Pages 123-195)

The jumping back and forth on the timeline is beginning to be a little disconcerting at this point.  In this segment, we start in 1980 with the younger version of our main heroine going to the isolated cabin with her father who was the little boy who grew up there; to 1967 when her mother was pregnant with her and discovers photographs in a photography display of her husband when he was that little boy, taken by the woman who appeared in the first main segment of the story; to 1940, when the father was a little boy and the photographer and her bewitched husband appeared at the cabin.  It’s starting to appear as if there is no justification for all this skipping around, and that perhaps the story would have been just as appealing, or more so, without it.  Keeping an open mind to the end, however. 

The discovery of the father (who was once the little boy) that the husband of the photographer had met with a bad end is delightfully disturbing.  His anguish over the fact that he had waited in vain all those years for the man, who was presumably dead, to return, and his daughter’s attempt to comfort him, are poignantly told.  There are some very thoughtfully crafted passages like this throughout the book, as well as subtle interplay between the characters.  The original witch and her 1940 victim have a fascinating relationship that takes several unexpected twists and turns.  We’re building to a climax here which promises to be chillingly superb. 

Reading novels written by women, I’m always hopeful that I might gain some insight into how women think.  It’s actually strange to me how seldom this happens, but occasionally it does, and sometimes in profound ways.  Consider the following passage from this book: “She always imagined she’d marry someone useless, have a brilliant decorative husband she could admire but who was fragile so that she’d never be tempted to lean on him.  Who puts weight on a china poodle or a failed playwright?  A husband she could lean on would be the worst possible thing, because then she might be tempted to relax, to soften, and then she would be lost.”  It seems we’re always seeing certain couples in public and thinking, “What’s an outstanding-looking woman like her doing with a creep like him?”  Does the passage above help explain this?

Just as there are different conceptions of vampires (contrast Edward in “Twilight” who “sparkles” in the sun, with Bill in the Charlaine Harris books who would perish in the sun), there are different conceptions in the fictional depiction of witches.  The oddity of a witch who literally sheds her skin - then looking like a medical dictionary’s muscle chart and dripping blood as she goes - is an idea of witches I haven’t previously encountered.  Maybe it’s fresh with this author?  Very creepy.  In a good way!

 

Maybe it’s just my imagination, but the scenes set in 1940 seem to take on an “old black-and-white movie” quality at times.  Is it the dialog?  The phrasing and sentence structure?  The allusions to outmoded clothing and photographic equipment?  I would like to ask the author if she did this purposely, to create a different atmosphere for each period.  If so, this is masterful prose indeed!  (It might also explain the timeline skipping, to contrast the writing techniques even more.)


Next segment, Conclusion



November's book has been changed to "Lunatics," by Dave Berry and Alan Zweibel!  (If you already got a copy of "White Tiger," let me know and we'll read that in January or February.)  Lunatics was recommended by a club member and is an excellent choice - good call, CJ!