Black River Paperback – January 5, 2016

Wes Carver is 60 years old and worked as a Corrections Officer in Black River, Montana for most of his adult life. He and his wife Claire move to Spokane, Washington after a series of terrible events hugely impact their lives.Now Wes is back in Black River, bringing his wife's ashes home to bury and to also go to a parole hearing for an inmate that Wes believes should never get out of prison.This is a dark story and Wes is a dark character. Even before events at the prison that damaged Wes physically and emotionally, he was rather a dour man - except when he plays his fiddle.This is a story about relationships, about the impact music can have on your life, about an insular community focused on the prison that was built there.It's hard for me to believe that this is the author's first book. It is so well done. It reminds me in many ways of author Kent Haruf's books and that is high praise from me. I am quite a fan of Haruf's work.I am now off to read this author's second book EDEN MINE.

Like many reviewers before me, I am skeptical of the archetypal "Western man," short on words and long on misunderstood virtue. Perhaps it's a flaw of mine as a reader--I'm a garrulous person and so is virtually everyone I know. Who are these terse, stoic men, so loathe to let words out of their mouths?However, I think S.M. Hulse has written a book about a figure like this and breathed real humanity into him. By the end, I felt I understood why Wes Carver craved the protections offered by silence, secrecy, and avoidance. He is kind of like Annie Proulx's Ennis del Mar (without the complications of gender and sexuality)--we come to understand his silence as a self-protective mechanism; having endured unspeakable torture during a prison riot many years ago, as well as having dealt with his father's suicide, Wes feels (perhaps rightly) that he is in constant danger of unraveling into an emotional, messy spectacle, which just doesn't square with the idea of masculinity he's been bequeathed by his culture.Perhaps the most impressive element of the novel--and the one that makes Wes Carver come alive as fully human and interesting--is Wes's musicianship. The sections that show Wes playing the fiddle beautifully and passionately (when he was able) and then failing to be able to do that (after the torture he endured in the riot, which left his fingers permanently damaged) are beautifully rendered. It makes psychological sense to me that a man uncomfortable with words would be able to express his complicated emotions through music--and then find those emotions blocked when music was no longer a viable outlet.I also think the fraught relationship between Wes and his stepson, Dennis, is complexly and convincingly drawn. I cared a great deal about them, despite their respective gloominesses and limitations. The book skillfully plots their clashes and tentative, hesitant truces, and the sections told from Wes's wife Claire's point of view (a brief burst at the start of each of the book's four parts), reveal the characters' back stories in a compelling, carefully parceled out way.If anything, I wish the ending had lingered longer in a number of scenes. This is often a bleak book, so the redemptive moments could stand a bit of dilation, to my mind, but I found it compelling and painful in appropriate proportion. Hulse seems like a very assured novelist, profoundly in touch with human emotion in all its messy glory. I look forward to reading more from her in the coming years.

I really enjoyed how the author told the story and I was, through her writing style, able to visualize the scene as well as identify with emotional status of the characters, both minor and major. I half expected to bail on this character study, but quite the opposite, I couldn't wait to pick up and start where I left off.. except for one part where I was disappointed with the major characters decision. BUT I got past that and it was a turning point and it's outcome I think slightly downplayed for my tastes as he doesn't revisit it that much as we head to the conclusion--- though it ultimately really has no affect on my opinion of this book. Waiting upon her next work.

Some parts of this books were personally very difficult for me to get through, as they mirror my own life so closely. The writing is poetic, at times, and the author has a beautiful grasp of the relationship between a musician and his/her instrument and what it means to play. I didn't give it five stars because the story does drag on a bit. I also struggled a little with how completely stereotypical the main character was. The author was trying to paint a picture of a modern-day man of the West, who has trouble sharing and revealing his feelings. She does this almost too well, and can sometimes create a situation that is somewhat predictable.Overall, this is an excellent book and well worth the read. I can't wait to watch this author mature in her writing style!

This wonderful and wise debut wouldn't have attracted me had I not trusted the reviews. The setting is the rural Montana town of Black River, whose main industry is the local prison. Retired corrections officer Wesley Carver--tight-lipped and ramrod--had his hands burned, carved into, and every finger broken by convict Bob Williams during a prison riot. Eighteen years later, Welsey returns to Black Rock from Spokane to scatter his wife's ashes and testify in William's parole hearing. Wesley's hatred for Williams is almost as disabling as William's assault on his hands, which robbed Wesley of his greatest pleasure, masterfully playing the fiddle. Wesley's stepson Denis, meanwhile, harbors an emotionally crippling fury against Wesley. How Wesley deals with his own rage and loneliness and attempts to mend fences with his estranged stepson, are at the heart of this surprisingly absorbing, compassionate, and finely crafted novel.

Gritty. Realism at its finest. Outstanding characterisation that is believable. Sparse prose that conjures up what is happening right down to the mood. I'd recommend this book to anyone who wants a good story, well told, with no fluff.