Customer Reviews

Season of the Snake

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Last night I stayed up too late finishing Claire Davis' "Season of the Snake," it was that good. There was no way I was going to sleep until I found out what happened. Exquisitely creepy, enthralling novel set in Idaho and Eastern Washington State with the Snake River playing a part. The life and times of a herpetologist, her husband and her problematic sister. Perfection. Can't wait to see what Davis gives us next.

Having read "Winter Range" and found it lacking, I only read "Season of the Snake" on the recommendation of a family member. I was thrilled by it!! Her previously dark writing has found real focus and structure. "Season of the Snake" does a great job getting you to care about the characters, and although you may think you know where it is going... it either takes you there in such a unique fashion, or twists how far and where it goes... that the whole ride is a joy. Truly got under my skin and sucked me in. Great Book!

It's rare to find a book that is not only beautifully written, but also a mesmerizing read. When you do, you raise your hands and praise the great god of stories. Claire Davis' book is, most certainly, one of those that have my hands up.

The main antagonist, Ned, a rapist and murderer, is a character you find yourself at first wanting to like, though as the book progresses he has you up locking your doors and closing your blinds. He's the kind of guy who might be your friend, possibly a brother or, Lord forbid, your husband. And maybe this is what I appreciate most about the book, that it tells a familiar story, a story we can believe. We have only to look at life in real time, people like Jeffrey Dahmer, Robert Yates, Ted Bundy, and more recently, Dennis Rader, a.k.a. "B.T.K." to see how easy it could be to miss the "signs," even for the smartest, strongest and most cynical among us.

The flip side of this is that we can also discover wonderful things about people we may have judged harshly. The relationship between the sisters, which the book weaves tenderly between scenes of Ned, is an example of this. So, while the story mortifies on one hand, it redeems on the other.

I'm always interested in honest explorations of human nature: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Any book that plumbs the bowels of human experience and retrieves the worst and the best of what we are capable, becomes a timeless read. In fact, I did lose track of time reading this book. I read half the book in a day, took another day to detox, and then finished it, I'm pretty sure without blinking, on the third day.

Suggestion: Read it with a pen to underline such gems as, "A school of minnows, sides bright as pyrite, wends through river weeds that have jimmied up through a jigsaw of rocks." Davis' book is like a thousand poems woven together into a startling, frightening, beautiful horror. You'll love it!

This book preys on your mind - that nagging fear that someone you've known for years is some "thing", entirely different, and it viscerally demonstrates how much we crave certainty and closure, even through the final pages. The natural creepiness of snakes, caves, random violence, dirty bars in forgotten places, voyeurism, it's all in here as well. Davis achieves this fearful effect with great skill, and when you're able to stop thinking about all this nastiness and overlook a few plot points that push the boundaries of credibility, you realize that she can really write, too. The problem, if one can call it that, is that it makes for an unpleasant reading experience. When I was done, I had no desire to call up a friend and say "read this book." I just wanted to take a hot shower, get in bed and make it all go away.

Also, the unsettling sections of the novel overwhelm the development of the sisters' relationship, leaving it curiously lopsided. And finally, Snake River country is big and powerful. It often seems incongruous with a novel that, to me at least, is much more about what lurks in the small hidden crevices of the brain.

What is truly terrifying about this book isn't the vivid and eerily symbolic imagery, the perfectly timed revelation of frightening character details and history or the brisk but agonizing pace at which truth is revealed. No. What is truly terrifying is how Davis brings the reader close enough to the monster that he or she, if willing to admit, is even more than disturbingly sympathetic. Sympathy, one can justify. To sympathize is to remain on a level above. But to *identify* with the monster? Even if only during the moments of self-restraint? Now that is truly terrifying.

I kept waiting for this story to pick up. The first third of the book is painfully boring. The author goes on and on "descriptively" saying nothing. It does pick up considerably as the book gets into the later sections, but by then it's almost too late. There is no rhyme nor reason as to why the husband demonstrates such violence, and the passages about the snakes, while educational, don't really have much bite (pun intended). While definitely not the worst book I have ever read, I was glad to finish this book so I could move on to something more interesting. My mom read "Season of the Snake" before giving it to me and she felt the same way. Two sideways thumbs from both of us.

The novel had a slow, somewhat unfocused start, but I kept with it, and ultimately was rewarded with an entertaining, if sometimes uncomfortable, experience. Some graphic scenes were a bit much for me, as it was clear early on the husband was a monster. The love-hate relationship between the sisters gave the story depth and dimension, and the prose describing the surrounding Snake River/Palouse scenery was exquisite. Overall, a fulfilling read with an ending that still leaves you squirming in your seat a bit.

Claire Davis, up and coming novelist: I've read the advance edition (though it hasn't been released yet) and barring any changes to the final text, I have to say this book will be worth your time: not only does Ms. Davis brilliantly grasp the fundamentals of poetic compression of language, she has a sense of narrative flow that, as I run around my kitchen making coffee, making cream cheese & avocado sandwiches, the sense of the joy and tenuousness of life is heightened: highly recommended. Five Stars.