Tom Bouman

Henry Farrell, rural Pennsylvania police officer, has been called to the scene of a grisly murder; at least one more killing takes place, and Henry becomes a suspect – and then a fugitive.

I normally try to choose books that are the first in the series for the A to Z Mystery Tour, but the first Henry Farrell book was not available so I went with #3. I was a bit sad, upon reaching the end of the book, to find that it may be the last in this very short series, because the writing is beautiful – almost lyrical in places. The characters, including Henry, are flawed and unapologetically human.

This is not a five star book because the timeline is confusing. Since this is not the first in the series I want to be sure to avoid spoilers, so I’ll be vague: there is one ongoing event that Henry occasionally references. The way he does so seems to imply that weeks or months have passed, but then he comes back to the murder investigation and it’s clearly been only a few days. It feels almost like the author is working with two timelines, which he is not.

I alternated between my library copy of the hardcover and a Scribd audiobook. I regret not sticking to the hardcover, because the narration of the audiobook doesn’t begin to do the writing justice. I hope my suspicion that this is the series finale is incorrect.

… (mer)

I really liked Bouman's first novel, [b: Dry Bones in the Valley|22253773|Dry Bones in the Valley (Henry Farrell, #1)|Tom Bouman|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1422215732l/22253773._SY75_.jpg|25993839]. I liked his second less. And this one, not at all. I was already shaking my head as I slogged through the early pages (and pages...) of Farrell's singularly cheerless wedding and minute descriptions of every guest and their family connections. A body has been found, which has been fed on by a bear. And of course, soon afterward, the bear attacks Farrell in the woods, only to be fended off by the instant and convenient appearance of Farrell's father. More meandering episodes of gas station robberies, Farrell brooding about the obnoxious woman he had an affair with, and a snotty rich couple who complain about the "hooligans" who swim in a nearby creek. Does anyone really use the word "hooligans" any more? I was done. Dreary.… (mer)

Bouman's first novel, Dry Bones of the Valley, was a stunner, with prose you wrote down or got out of your chair to read to your spouse. This one... not quite so much. But still an order of magnitude better than the industrially-churned out crap that keeps popping up on my benighted public library's webpage. Henry Farrell is still morose, brooding, and alone (except for a really unfortunate inclination to jump at the booty-call texts he gets from a local married woman. Of course it ends badly...). He hunts, he drinks, he drives around in his truck, he plays a soulful bluegrass fiddle. And he wanders around, into, and through the violence, abuse, cruelty and misery of the residents of Wild Thyme township, centering around the disappearance of the female half of a pathetic couple ensnared in poverty, drugs and alcohol. Bouman's best gift is his portrait of these folks: rural, poor, enmeshed in each other's networks of cousins, siblings, in-laws, bosses... everyone is connected somehow. It sounds depressing, and it is - sometimes - but he also sees their humanity, that no one wants to rat out their brother-in-law even if he is dealing; the anguished woman who cries for her missing sister no matter how badly she's hurt her. It's a community of people we don't see, and should. There is also the beauty of the woods, the rivers, the lakes; the music, the work ethic, the legitimate beefs and conflicts.

All that said, this is a tougher read than Dry Bones. The pacing lags, drags, slows, wanders... partly to illustrate how these backwoods crimes and problems drag out because there are too few cops and lawyers, boundaries are blurred, and sometimes just because no one cares enough to pursue. But after a while, after months and seasons pass, all those cousins and strangers and drifters start to get confusing, and it's difficult for the reader to maintain a keen interest either. Farrell meets a woman. That relationship chugs into low gear, but I still gagged on the first spark of passion between them being lit by a dawn deer hunt. The musical scenes, admirably written as they are, don't seem to serve much purpose other than Bouman (also a musician) wanted to write them. A side plot about a building project may interest carpenters, and the language of wood working is often rather poetic and rich, but is peripheral.

Good writing, a vivid and important cultural portrait. A bit slow and rambly, but he does know how to write a corpse.… (mer)