Wednesday, November 13, 2019

My Most Difficult Book Post




As soon as I finished Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens, I wrote about it. I have edited what I wrote several times since then. A true girl child of my culture, it is very difficult for me to speak critically in public. Only in the last few years have I realized how much this cultural silencing has cost me.  I love that there are still people who read a book and feel passionately about it. I never want to discourage anyone from reading anything. But since this is my blog, and since I well and truly suck at pretending, I'm going to tell you my experience with this novel. 

I don't remember exactly when this book first came across my radar, but when I read a description of the story, I thought, "OMG, this book is so me." After a few months waiting for it to arrive from the library, I dove in eagerly. For the first fifty pages or so, I told myself I was disappointed because I had set my expectations too high. I convinced myself I could ignore the inauthentic dialogue, relax and appreciate the beautiful passages about nature, and enjoy the development of a main character I loved. The plot, however, continued to devolve into melodrama, and the annoying dialogue got even more annoying. By the time one of the characters drove from the North Carolina coast to Asheville to get supplies, I was almost mad enough to throw the book across the room. Instead, I returned it to the library unfinished.

Over the course of the next few months, multiple people told me how much they loved this book, and I thought, well, maybe I've been unfair. So I re-ordered it and finished reading. As much as I love the character of Kya, and as much as I love the descriptions of nature and the themes of the appreciation and preservation of wilderness, I cannot love this book. In addition to the melodramatic plot, the dialogue is almost insulting. I have lived in North Carolina my entire life. Not once have I ever heard anyone use the term "Alabamee" for Alabama. If this was meant as a joke, it's not funny. And going to Asheville from the coast for any kind of supplies, what is that about?  I can't even begin to address the insertion of bad poetry into the narrative because I can't begin to understand why anyone would do that or why any editor would let it pass.

I've spent a couple of weeks trying to understand why I am so disappointed in this book. I think it's because it could have been so good. It could have been elevating. Owens could have taken Kya and her surroundings and gone the route of Kent Haruf or Anita Brookner. Instead she went full on Michael Crichton. Good intentions and a great ability to describe the natural world do not make up for the missteps in a book I really wanted to love. 


Wednesday, November 6, 2019

Tompkins Knob North on the MST


Cascades Overlook MP 271.9 on Blue Ridge Parkway

“But life holds mystery for us yet. In a hundred places we can still sense the source: a play of pure powers that—when you feel it—brings you to your knees. There are yet words that come near to the unsayable, and from crumbling stones, a new music to make a sacred dwelling in a place we cannot own.” ~Rilke

I think the hike we took yesterday is going to end up being my favorite relatively nearby hike, which I define as being an hour drive or less. This hike in in Jeffress Park, which is only about 2 miles north of the Parkway entrance at Deep Gap just east of Boone. We parked at Tompkins Knob Parking Area at MP 272.5 and entered the Tompkins Knob / MST Trail going north toward the Jesse Brown Cabin and Cool Springs Baptist Church. It’s an easy 500 feet of trail from the Tompkins Knob Parking Area to the cabin. There’s a lovely little spring and spring house down behind the cabin on its southeast side.

After passing through the clearing by the cabin and the church, the trail continues on for another easy half mile through a lovely wood to the Cascades Overlook at MP 271.9. This overlook is one of the most beautiful views I’ve seen on the Blue Ridge Parkway (see above).

From here we entered the Cascades Trail, which is a short loop down to the Cascades Waterfall. This trail is usually fairly busy. Unfortunately, half of it has been closed for about a year now, so until they open the east side of the loop again, it’s an out and back instead of a loop. The half that is open meanders beside a beautiful mountain stream on the way to the falls. The Cascades Loop Trail is a mile total, so I assume the half that's open is about a half-mile.

At the far end of the Cascades Trail, the Mountains to Sea Trail (MST) splits off and continues north into the woods. We got a little off track here because the "blaze tree" is down and looks to have been down for a while. MST forks very soon after you exit the Cascades Trail, like maybe twenty feet? If you come to a clearing with a maintenance shed near the BRP, turn around, you missed the fork. After some rambling around up and down the Parkway itself (which the dogs did not enjoy), we went back and found the MST fork and walked another half-mile or so north. This is a beautiful section of the trail with some lovely views through the bare trees down off the mountain to the east.

I don't know our total mileage, but I would guess 3 to 4 miles, considering our rambling around lost for a while. We were on the trail from 11:30 to 1:30, taking plenty of time to take photos, visit the waterfall, and let the dogs play in the creek. One of the best things about this hike is that you can tailor it to your hiking ability. You could park at either Tompkins Knob or at Cascades Overlook for less than a mile of hiking, or you can continue on the MST as far as your feet will take you. This hike would be a good start for anyone who is intimidated by hiking, as there is a lot of payoff for not a lot of work.  The elevation change on this part of the MST is hardly noticeable. We had a lovely day in the woods and were able to finish our current co-read, The Castle of Otranto in the car on the way up.  I'll try to get a book post in again soon!

A Kind of Healing

  "...to live the slow quiet rhythm of a day as a kind of healing" Several years ago, I discovered May Sarton’s journals. What a b...