Above the Waterfall by Ron Rash
My rating: 4/5 cats
i was so excited to get this book at BEA – it was one of my four MUST-haves. while we were waiting in line for it, greg asked me what it was about. i just shrugged. “meth? appalachia? i don’t care – it’s ron rash!” and then i opened it up and hey! meth! appalachia!! who would have guessed!?
this is on my grit lit shelf, but it’s on the end of the grit lit spectrum where there is little emphasis on the drugs and violence. the grit here doesn’t scour, it just sort of buffs a little. very few grit lit novels will open with such poetically alliterative descriptions:
Though sunlight tinges the mountains, black leather-winged bodies swing low. First fireflies blink languidly. Beyond this meadow, cicadas rev and slow like sewing machines. All else ready for night except night itself. I watch last light lift off level land. Ground shadows seep and thicken. Circling trees form banks. The meadow itself becomes a pond filling, on its surface dozens of black-eyed susans.
there are definitely scenes in which meth causes bad things to occur, but this is a more meditative book, as les, a north carolina sheriff in his last three weeks on the job, is confronted with just one more case. and you know how that always goes. it’s never a parking ticket. this last case involves no car chases or shoot-em-ups; it concerns the poisoning of a trout population at a fishing resort. i know – michael bay says “pass.” but there is also a meth bust, so there’s still some action elements.
the story is told in alternating chapters between les and becky shytle, a park ranger who is also a poet (with a deep respect for gerard manley hopkins). becky’s chapters are comprised of lyrical passages and bits of her poetry, usually celebrating nature and the land around her. her slower-paced chapters contrast with les’ choppier, more dialogue-driven ones and provide a natural backdrop to the crime story in which she is tangentially involved. she is also tangentially involved with les himself, in a slow-burning courtship that their own personal damage has stalled with caution. the two of them have well-developed backstory, but it is becky’s that stands out on account of how unusual it is and how scarring it has been for her.
les’ backstory is more common, especially for men in his profession – a marriage failing in a horrible way. but his memories of the early years with his wife are beautifully written, which elevates it from most books about failed marriages. les is neither a perfect man nor a corrupt sheriff. he is completely human; he’s made mistakes and has occasionally taken advantage of situations, but essentially he is a good man who wants the best for his community. having grown up in the town he now oversees, he knows these people and their pasts, he knows their weaknesses and when to let minor offenses slide. he is also subject to the pressures and obligations to people who were once friends and are now caught up in very bad things because of where circumstance have led them; circumstances in which les has unwittingly played a part.
les’ struggle is with finding that middle ground between the law and ethics, when neither one of those value systems are capable of satisfying the nuanced and flexible factors of situational justice. it’s about extenuating circumstances and atonement – les is not a man playing god, but a man who recognizes that some situations require solutions outside of the law or ordinary morality.
it’s a quiet book, full of beautiful natural imagery and the sense of an ending – of tying up loose ends and setting things in order; leaving the campsite better than you found it before receding into a much-deserved retirement. in a way, it feels slight – more of a snack than a meal, but ron rash’s snacks are incredibly satisfying. maybe not the best starting point into his oeuvre, but if you’re already a fan, this will sustain your appreciation.
