Avid readers know the feeling: You’re walking along the stacks in a bookstore when a cover catches you off guard. In this case, the hands, neck and chin of what looks like a woman from a Renaissance painting are partially covered in dirt, while moss and carnivorous pitcher plants creep up over her pale body. The title in bold white font, stamped over the image like a movie title screen, also gives you pause. The Bog Wife. Who is this woman? Is she married to the bog itself? Was she given to it? Is she emerging from it? Honestly, it is so rare that this feeling happens, this stopping in my tracks and being honestly intrigued, that I had to pick it up and give it a try.
The Haddesley siblings live in a crumbling manor in West Virginia on the edge of a cranberry bog they are sworn to protect. Their family has been there practically since the dawn of time, as far as they are concerned, and their duty is clear—if strange. The oldest son of every generation marries a woman who is gifted to them by the bog itself, and the family as a whole works together to protect the bog in exchange for its sustaining their existence. The agreement has existed for generations—their father has told them all of their history and they understand the gravity of the situation. So when the father is on his deathbed, the family begins preparing the ceremony to give his body to the bog in exchange for the woman who will help forge their next generation—despite the fact that their house is literally falling down around them, and the land very clearly is no longer healthy or capable of supporting the life it once could.
Of course, one of the four children was the black sheep, Wenna, who grew up and had to get away. She’s been living in the outside world—very clearly our own non-magical world—but comes back for her father’s funeral and gets drawn into the superstitions and stories of her youth. We see most of the story through her eyes, which adds to the creeping sense of the supernatural vs. reality. Wenna’s experience in the real world allows her to see that their way of life is not sustainable, and she tries desperately to rescue her family from their delusional, mythical existence. The tone and feel of the whole story is deftly crafted, and you are left wondering if maybe, just maybe, the magic of the bog was real all along.
Kay Chronister has created an ethereal Appalachian Gothic that keeps you guessing. I never could predict exactly where it was going, and I enjoyed every minute of this one. For someone intrigued by myths and fairy tales, the stories that have taught lessons for generations, this book was a real reminder that the legends we tell each other have real power. It is not enough to keep retelling the old tales. It is also important to be mindful of where the stories come from, be aware of what they are really encouraging us to do, and not follow anything blindly.
Kari Meutsch and Kristian Preylowski co-own and run the Yankee Bookshop in Woodstock.