Something rich and strange.

Bjerre, Thomas Aervold

RON RASH SURELY NEEDS NO INTRODUCTION TO READERS OF THIS JOURNAL. The prize-winning poet, short story writer, and novelist has gained a wider readership for each new book he has published. It has been a pleasure to observe the growing readership as well as the increase in scholarly articles on Rash. This past year alone has seen a heightened focus: in November, Ecco, Rash's long-time publisher, put out a career-spanning collection of thirty-four selected stories meant to establish his place in the canon of great American short story writers. It is titled Something Rich and Strange, a title that would also be fitting for the two books released by The University of South Carolina Press a few months earlier, books that also serve to reaffirm Rash's status: The Ron Rash Reader (2014), edited by Randall Wilhelm, and John Lang's Understanding Ron Rash (2014). The latter has the honor of being the first scholarly monograph on Rash's work. Several more are on their way--at least one anthology is in press at present. And Rash just keeps on writing. His sixth novel, Above the Waterfall, will be published in September 2015.

The Ron Rash Reader is a 400-page collection spanning all the genres Rash has worked in. Editor Randall Wilhelm has taken on the daunting task of extracting from the author's fourteen books (published in only twenty years) what the publisher calls a "best of' collection that represents the "full range" of Rash's career. And since Rash has published poetry, short stories, and novels, often alternately, readers can now see the variety of his work in one book, genre by genre. The arrangement sets off what Wilhelm calls "Rash's recycling methods" (15), a "nuanced and subtle weaving" of thematic material (5).

In his excellent introduction "Blood Memory," Wilhelm states that the "carefully chosen selections exhibit some of the best of Rash's work" (5). Although the exact basis of Wilhelm's selections is never explained, the novel samples make sense. We are introduced to the first chapter of each novel. I would have liked to see more poems included, and while the selection of short stories can be debated, what is here is certainly excellent and representative of Rash's full body of work. In just under thirty pages, Wilhelm's introduction lays out an impressively detailed overview of Rash's books. Wilhelm shows deft insight into the finest details of Rash's poetry, suggesting his progress as a writer and summing up the general themes of his body of work: the focus on the natural world (specifically Appalachia) and its people, the recovering of the region's lost voices, an examination of "the lonely spaces of the human heart" (4), despair met with courage, hope, and love, a fight against the tired stereotypes of his region, an increasing concern for drug abuse, and, as Wilhelm is keen to point out, an often overlooked humor that draws on the best of the tradition of Southern humorists. While the introduction admirably covers important matters of style, genre, poetics, inspiration, and themes, I disagreed with his reading of The Cove as "a thriller" and was surprised that war was hardly mentioned in the discussion of the novel. On a more general note, the issue of gender remains largely untouched in Wilhelm's exploration of Rash's oeuvre.

Apart from already published work, the collection also features four previously uncollected pieces of nonfiction (dated broadly as 2006-2013) as well as five previously uncollected short stories (also dated broadly, as 1998-2013). Despite the lack of specific dates for the texts as well as the curious absence of Rash's essay "The Importance of Place," the addition of these unpublished works is cause for joy for anyone who appreciates Rash's work. The two longest stories, "Outlaws" and "The Far and the Near," are riveting explorations of youth, war, family, and art, while the three-page long "The Harvest" is quintessential Rash in its quiet way of packing a big punch.

Despite my minor reservations, The Ron Rash Reader is a treasure trove, the perfect place to start for first readers but also a fascinating and illuminating overview--especially because of Wilhelm's introduction--for seasoned Rash readers.

John Lang's brief but impressively comprehensive Understanding Ron Rash delivers what its title promises. Like the almost one hundred previous titles in the Understanding series, Lang's book is meant as a guide or companion "for students as well as good nonacademic readers" (ix). Lang has worked this territory before, in his Understanding Fred Chappell, and, given his preeminent expertise in Appalachian literature, I can think of no one better suited to the task.

The brief first chapter provides biographical background, traces Rash's beginning as a writer, outlines his major themes and aims (such as "Combating erasure, combating amnesia" [4]), and traces the impressive arc of his career so far. The remaining chapters present, analyze, and discuss Rash's books in almost chronological order in chapters based on genre. Chapter 2 looks at the two early short story collections The Night the New Jesus Fell to Earth (1994) and Casualties (2000), as well as the more recent Chemistry and Other Stories (2007), in which eight of the thirteen stories are revised versions of stories from Casualties. Lang does a good job of pointing out Rash's constant evolution from book to book in terms of style, narration, and characterization. While the first collection stands out in some ways (the Piedmont setting and the structure of interrelated stories), we also see the early Rash displaying the "thematic complexity and nuanced shadings of feelings" (7) that have become hallmarks of his novels as well. One of the many strengths of Lang's readings is his way of mapping out the fine web of connections among Rash's many short stories, poems, and novels.

Chapter 3 explores Rash's poetry in the four collections Eureka Mill (1998), Among the Believers (2000), Raising the Dead (2002), and Waking (2011). Even though he was best known as a poet at the time he published his first novel, since then Rash's poetry has stood in the shadow of his fiction, at least in the public eye; this is one of the reasons why this chapter was the most illuminating to me. Another reason is that Lang is an impeccable reader of poetry, a genre Rash has called "the ultimate form of writing" (29). Without succumbing to convoluted academic lingo or boring technicalities, Lang's prose is straightforward and lucid. Lang concludes the chapter by placing Rash "in the front ranks of contemporary American poets," though his poetry is not yet well known outside the South (55). Based on Lang's convincing readings, it is hard not to agree with his assessment.

In Chapter 4 the focus is on Rash's early novels: One Foot in Eden (2002), Saints at the River (2004), and The World Made Straight (2006). Lang's reading of One Foot in Eden is thorough and traces the novel's connections and allusions to the Bible, Shakespeare, and Appalachian folklore. There are also fine observations regarding Rash's "skillful use of vernacular language," which Lang sees as one of the "major literary achievements of [the] novel" (62). In his discussion of Saints at the River, Lang usefully explains the connections between that novel and One Foot in Eden, presents a nuanced description of the major characters, touches upon major themes, and explains how the novel's structure mirrors those themes. The novel is yet another example of how "water imagery is integral" (66), and Lang sees the portrait of nature "as complex and varied as that in [Rash's] poetry" (68). Ultimately, Lang, like many other critics and reviewers, sees Saints as "a lesser artistic achievement" than One Foot in Eden (71) but holds it forth as an important work in Rash's canon because of the environmental issues which point forward to Serena (72).

Lang's reading of The World Made Straight maintains the fine balance between summarizing and focusing on specific details. Lang highlights Rash's experimentation with narrative techniques, the increased "intense and dramatic treatment" of "consciousness of history" (73), and Rash's growing interest in the idea of "landscape as destiny" (79). Lang mentions some criticism of Rash's portrayal of women, but disappointingly he does not follow up on this.

With the publication of Serena (2008), Rash's "literary reputation reached new heights" (82). Lang makes that novel and the next, The Cove(2012), the focus of Chapter 5. Concurring with most critics, Lang sees Serena as "Rash's masterpiece," because it is "Ambitious in scope and design, thematically complex, [and] rich in dramatic incident and suspense" (83). He proceeds with a detailed explanation of many of the novel's influences and allusions, drawing on works from the Renaissance, as well as classical and modern works, including, of course, the Bible. Lang also stresses the novel's humor, its thematic handling of environmental issues, and its domineering female villain.

Like many other critics, Lang sees The Cove as a "lesser achievement" (96), a novel that "disappoints in its reliance on the one-dimensional villains ... and in the slow pace of its developing action" (102). But Lang still manages to place it within the framework of Rash's style and thematic concerns and once again traces allusions and quotes to their original sources. There is also an interesting comparison between the novel (set in 1918) and today's war on terror.

The final chapter examines Rash's two most recent story collections, Burning Bright (2010) and Nothing Gold Can Stay (IOCS). Lang shows how both collections are proof of Rash's continual evolution while they also "reveal a clear continuity" with his fictional world (104). Lang notes how the structure of Burning Bright points back to William Blake's poem "The Tyger," from which the book's title is taken. Details like this alone (and they are bountiful) make the book indispensable, not just to students and nonacademic readers but to scholars as well. As he did in the previous chapter on short stories, Lang dives into each story to tease out relevant and acute points--a remarkable feat given the brevity of the book. The same is the case in his reading of Nothing Gold Can Stay, a collection that some critics saw as too grim and indifferent. But Lang argues that in most of the short stories Rash creates sympathetic characters. He furthermore shows how many of the stories explore "the loss of ignorance" (116), and he examines the three dealing with drug abuse and its impact. Finally, we learn how three of the stories are results of what Wilhelm calls Rash's "recycling methods" (15).

Throughout Understanding Ron Rash, Lang deftly balances summary and analysis, complete with explanations of the root sources of specific words or names that add deeper understanding of the work. Similarly, Lang again and again traces allusions to other literature, be it American or classical. It is no easy feat to balance all this without getting lost in minutiae or losing nonacademic readers, but Lang admirably manages to maintain both focus and progress. My only reservation, as was the case with Wilhelm's introduction, is that gender is more or less absent in Lang's reading of Rash, even though issues of masculinity are crucial to understanding Rash's male characters; likewise, much can be said of his female characters based on gender studies, but the topic remains strangely underdeveloped. Despite this absence, Lang's monograph not only provides an understanding of Ron Rash's work: it is also a book that will serve as an indispensable foundation for future scholarship.

THOMAS AERVOLD BJERRE

University of Southern Denmark

Works Cited

Lang, John. Understanding Ron Rash. Columbia: U of South Carolina P, 2014.

Rash, Ron. The Ron Rash Reader. Ed. Randall Wilhelm. Columbia: U of South Carolina P, 2014.