2019/45: She Walks These Hills -- Sharyn McCrumb

As Nora Bonesteel tied the wisp of black ribbon to the nail on the lid of the white bee box, she wondered if there were any other deaths she ought to mention to the bees, or if those mattered. Perhaps the bees did not need to be told yet. The other deaths had not yet happened. [p. 148]

I'd read, and vastly enjoyed, McCrumb's Bimbos of the Death Sun (murder mystery set at a science fiction convention) back before the Internet, so when I was looking for a novel set in Appalachia she was an easy choice. She Walks These Hills is not quite a murder mystery, though there are murders within it. The entwined plot threads -- an escaped convict going home, a female police dispatcher who wants to be a deputy, a hapless historian trying to recreate the historic journey of a young woman escaping from her captors -- combine in unexpected ways to tell a story of escapes, ghosts and memories.

Hiram Sorley, known as Harm, has spent many years imprisoned for murder: he suffers from Korsakoff's Syndrome (the inability to create new memories) and lives in a perpetual now. He escapes from prison and sets out for his home. Radio host Hank the Yank takes an interest in Harm's story, and sets out to investigate the circumstances of the murder for which he was imprisoned.

Martha Ayers is a police dispatcher, but knows she can handle more. She wants to be a deputy, and the sheriff gives her the opportunity. Her first proper assignment is to intervene in what looks like a typical case of domestic violence -- young Sabrina Harkryder, angry at her husband's negligent behaviour, is threatening to kill her own child.

Meanwhile, ethno-historian Jeremy Cobb has embarked on a hike through the mountains, trying to recreate the epic journey of Katie Wyler who, in 1779, was captured by the Shawnee and escaped, eventually returning to her fiancee ... It's Katie's ghost who Nora Bonesteel has seen every autumn since she was a little girl, and Katie's story that binds all the threads together.

I really enjoyed this novel. It doesn't sugar-coat rural poverty, but neither does it stereotype Appalachian culture. ('Martha wondered why city people judged urban areas by their wealthiest inhabitants and rural areas by their poorest.') The story of Katie Wyler, though fictional, resonated with historical accounts I've read; Harm Sorley's perpetual now was oddly reminiscent of Gene Wolfe's Soldier of the Mist series. I liked the blend of folklore, police procedural and tragedy, and admire McCrumb's gift of characterisation. Each individual felt individual, human, flawed, and (mostly) likeable.

I'll be looking out for more in the 'Ballad' sequence, but hopefully without the flaws of this edition: I ended up returning it because of the formatting. (I can cope with mid-paragraph breaks and mis-OCR'd words -- 'good oF boys' -- but not with the enforced white background through most of the novel, as my Kindle app is set to a pale beige background.)

I read this for the 'A book about or set in Appalachia' rubric of the 'Reading Women Challenge 2019'.