Some of my favorite novels are those in which the setting is integral to the story. In Valerie Nieman’s thrilling, genre-bending novel To the Bones, the richly rendered setting is inseparable from characters’ fears, strengths, and weaknesses and from nearly every tragedy and triumph in the story.
The novel takes place in Redbird, West Virginia, run for generations by a coal-baron family, the Kavanaughs, whose evils run far deeper than their exploitation of the land and its people. To help achieve their ends, the Kavanaughs seem to draw dark, otherworldly powers from the coal, and from the land itself. And these powers appear unstoppable, until a few townspeople, and an outsider with some otherworldly powers of his own, try to fight back–often, with deadly consequences.
The outsider is Darrick MacBrehon, a government auditor for whom Redbird, at first, had been nothing more than a place to grab a sandwich and some gas on his way home from a work trip. But when a police officer in league with the Kavanaughs spots Darrick and sees him as a government intruder, he knocks him out and leaves him for dead in an abandoned mine pit. When Darrick awakens, stripped of money and identification and suffering from a serious head injury, he finds himself surrounded by the bones of those who’d been tossed into the pit before him.
After Darrick manages to climb from the pit, he wanders the countryside, looking for help. When he approaches one business showing signs of life, a sweepstakes parlor, the parlor’s manager, Lourana Taylor, reluctantly agrees to take him in and do what she can to patch up his head injury. When Darrick asks her to call the police, she gives this ominous response: “You don’t call the police hereabouts. Ever.”
Later, Lourana explains to Darrick who’s really in charge in Redbird:
Lourana has her own reasons for harboring Darrick, who she believes may be the key to finding her daughter, Dreama–possibly in the pit of bones. Dreama had vanished 18 months before, not long after becoming a personal assistant to the younger of the two Kavanaugh brothers.
As Lourana and Darrick try to uncover the mystery of the bone pit, and the whereabouts of Dreama, it seems that all the powers of the town are arrayed against them, and insurmountable–until the cop who’d tried to kill Darrick confronts them at a traffic stop. Here, Darrick discovers a new and disturbing power, which seems to have resulted from his head injury: he can both hear others’ thoughts and emotions and push them back to their source, violently. For the cop–and for certain others who stand in Darrick’s way–this power proves lethal.
From here, the novel takes readers on an entertaining, genre-bending ride. The hunt for Dreama, whose disappearance seems to be the novel’s central mystery, brings surprising revelations that complicate the story of the Kavanaughs. Layered onto this is a tale of ecological sleuthing, in which a local reporter, with help from Lourana, discovers why the river that runs through Redbird has become so polluted with sulfuric acid that it can break down the metal of bridges and piers and burn the flesh off any people who have the misfortune of falling into the water. As the reporter and Lourana discover, the pollution was no accident, and like so many other developments in Redbird, it serves the interests of the Kavanaughs. Consequently, informing the public of the reason for the pollution may prove deadly.
The novel also has elements of a western, culminating in a tense, OK Corral-style showdown between Darrick and the most threatening member of the Kavanaugh family, whose powers have come to exceed Darrick’s. (As an aside, the scene of the showdown, the Kavanaugh mansion and crypt, might be the set of a horror film. Nieman makes masterful use of this setting, showing how it helps fuel the villain’s powers, and the fears of his prey.)
On a lighter note, Darrick unwittingly kicks off a local zombie legend, of which he is the star. The legend begins when some locals spot Darrick after he first emerges from the bone pit, bloodied and sullied from human remains. Contributing to his zombie-like appearance is his lurching gait, the result of ataxia, a lack of muscle coordination that he was born with. “The zombie” is blamed (with justification) for the death of the cop who attacked Darrick, and for other killings, showing the endless appeal of tall tales.
Instead of feeling like disparate parts, all these genre elements fit together seamlessly, and they build upon one another in satisfying ways.
Finally, like Stephen King’s masterpiece The Dead Zone, Nieman’s novel insightfully portrays the complications of possessing unexpected powers, which rarely are unmitigated blessings. As Nieman and King make clear, these powers can force uncomfortable dilemmas and decisions on those who harbor them, and as Darrick discovers, they can be as likely to bring negative consequences as good ones.
Would My Pick be Your Pick?
If you're interested in ________, the answer may be "Yes":▪ Stories in which the setting is integral to the plot
▪ Mysteries and thrillers
▪ Genre-bending novels
▪ Stories set in Appalachia
