Twisted Tree

by Kent Meyers

Book Overview

Hayley Jo Zimmerman is gone. Taken. And the people of small-town Twisted Tree must come to terms with this terrible event--their loss, their place in it, and the secrets they all carry.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0547386400
• ISBN13: 9780547386409
• Release Date: September 2010
• Publisher: Houghton Mifflin
• Length: 312 Pages
• Weight: 0.65 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.8" x 5.0" x 8.5"

Customer Reviews

Outstanding author of the century

I read "The Work of Wolves" several years ago when I still lived in South Dakota. I shared it with my son Bill who said it might be the best book he'd ever read (all of my kids and I read quite a bit.) I have not yet finished "The Twisted Tree," but I just finished the chapter about the rattlesnakes which moved me more than I can say. I have to say that I believe Kent Myers will be considered one of the best writers of the 21st century. I've read James Joyce, Thomas Wolfe, Steinbeck, all of William Faulkner, Harper Lee, and a number of other fiction writers my professors at Emory assigned quite a few years ago. Kent Myers' work is sensitive, non-trite, sincere, and insightful into people and their complex motivations. When I re-read his work, it is like meeting a dear friend once more. His work is not a smooth read, but rather like a weekend spent with a good friend who's funny, smart, and stretches your thinking processes. I hope Kent will share many more of his works with us when the muse visits him. I have a real reason to live to be 100 years old now that I can look forward to more work from this special person.

Is it truly a novel?

I would say it is not. It is more of a collection of related short stories, ala Olive Kitteridge. Each of the "chapters" functions as a stand-alone story, some directly involving Hayley Jo, others barely brushing by her. It works as a portrait of place, that place being rural South Dakota with its delicate balance of community-minded and mind-your-own-business. The material concerns of the rural Midwest--weather, crops, livestock-- are interwoven with the private lives and deep secrets of a small town's population. Hayley Jo is not the only resident of Twisted Tree who is hiding in plain sight, and the delving into is fascinating. Certain stories are brilliant, especially the housewife with the fear of snakes (I literally had to set the book down for a moment after this one to regain my breath) and the stories that show us the interior life of a feral man. The language used to describe the way he sees the world is densely poetic. Other stories fall into the "not quite there" category (the rancher and the waitress, the priest and the accident site), but always, the momentum of discovery is maintained. Despite the back cover synopsis, there isn't a central "whodunit" mystery to uncover, but the hope of discovering what drove Hayley Jo down her sad path kept me reading. In the end, I don't think this was sufficiently explored, but perhaps it wasn't the point. This is a terrific book about an unbearably sad event, but it is beautifully written and softened with enough dark humor at the end to allow you to leave the book without too much scar tissue.

a book to revel in

I have to confess right up front that not only do I know Kent Meyers, he was my mentor in an MFA program. That may lead some to think that in appreciation for being my mentor, I'd of course praise Twisted Tree and call him brilliant. Though a better way to think of it is that I requested Kent as a mentor because having read his work, I'd already considered him brilliant. In any case, any ethical questions having been appeased by outing myself, I now feel free to, well, praise Twisted Tree and call Kent, umm, brilliant. The novel opens in chilling fashion, the reader watching horrified while the narrator--a serial killer who stalks anorexic girls--tightens the noose around his next victim, Hayley Jo Zimmerman. In tone and voice and sense of inevitably, it grabs the reader from the start and doesn't let go. From there the novel shifts narrators over a dozen times, moving as well in time and space, though most of the action takes place in Hayley Jo's hometown of Twisted Tree, a small town in South Dakota. Her death, or, equally, her life, is the thread that ties the various stories together, though it's a sometimes tenuous one and it might be better to say that rather than Hayley's character it is the town itself that binds these characters. The stories could quite often stand as their own independent tales, and it comes as no surprise that several were published as stand-alones prior to the novel, but their various connections--of geography, character, theme, imagery or symbol--make each shine all the brighter, like a flash of sun through a stained-glass window, while also allowing them to coalesce into a richer, greater whole. And the subtle echoes that run throughout announce themselves with a sort of joyful recognition to the careful reader and even more so I'd guess to one who reads the book a second time (the connections are so wonderfully subtle I'd recommend not reading overly-slowly so that small points remain fresh in mind). The other benefit to reading the stories together is the pleasure in watching Meyers slip so easily from one voice to another, shifting with equal aplomb between ages, genders, occupations, between varying emotions and even better various shades of emotions--so that one person's sorrow or regret (and there is a lot of each in this novel) is sharply distinguished from another's, belongs uniquely to that single character rather than bleeding one into another so that sadness is a simple one-color blanker laid over all. It is character and voice that drives this novel, rather than plot. What is compelling is not getting from plot point A to point B, not finding out if the serial killer from chapter one is ever caught. What is compelling instead is watching these characters chase whatever eludes them--meaning, happiness, a sense of belonging, a sense of place, companionship, justice, atonement. It is often, as in reality, a never-ending chase and so don't expect neat wrap-ups either to single st

"Her breath contained the stink of willful dying."

From the first chapter, the reader is put on notice: there is nothing predictable in this novel, but much to be savored. Meyers possesses an acute sensitivity for the complications of human behaviors, the intimate secrets of people battered by life and expectations, from the hard-working father who finds peace of mind tending a buffalo herd on his South Dakota ranch to the reservation Indian ridiculed by classmates in childhood, losing himself as an adult in the solace of intoxication: "He'd learned to crouch through life." The canvas is the vast territory of the Dakotas, where every day is a battle for survival and eccentrics harass well-meaning neighbors seeking to save the land from ruination. In terms of characters, Meyers has created a moonscape of an otherworldly place where loneliness howls at night, but day reveals simple folk who make few demands, an American landscape far removed from big city chaos. The novel begins with a kidnapping, albeit with a unique twist, and a murder. A short sojourn into the mind of the kidnapper is the first indication that this will be an unusual journey, perhaps a difficult one. The majority of the novel reveals the reactions of the people of small town Twisted Tree, South Dakota, the father of the murdered girl, Haley Jo Zimmerman, a cashier at the local market who knows the buying habits of all the townspeople, a priest whose vows are breached, a step-daughter who finds consolation in daily revenge. There are aberrations: Eddie Little Feather, who meets a sad and gruesome fate one drunken night; Shane Valen, a loner as disturbing as the den of rattlesnakes that inhabits his shabby home- and just as deadly. But for all the waste, the lost dreams, disillusions and grief over the death of a girl already pursuing the destruction of her own body ("Her breath contained the stink of willful dying."), there is a strange poignancy and beauty to Meyer's work. It is the women who bring grace to the story, gentle ministrations that touch the harsh lives of men who shun comfort other than alcohol. The women bring compassion to an indifferent, often cruel world, while the males stumble around like wounded bulls. In the midst of broken lives and stubborn justification, the women watch, some unable to endure, finally, such a barren existence. The vision of Haley Jo lingers long after her funeral, her long hair whipping in the wind, a promise in a place where most such things of beauty are broken. With Haley Jo as wedge, Meyers burrows into the psyche of Twisted Tree, the savagery and consistency of such a place, the deep roots of perseverance, the oddities and triumphs, a land devoid of pretensions. Meyers explores the remarkable, indelible truth of Twisted Tree, a secret, shocking view into the soul of rural America, where drama strikes then moves on, the prairie wind covering all with a layer of grit. Luan Gaines/2009.