Bloodroot (Greene) - Book Reviews

Book Reviews
Bloodroot takes place in Appalachia and, yes, Greene lovingly describes its mountains and hollows, its waters filled with bluegills.... But this story is really about the fraught, sometimes dangerous, bonds between children and their mothers, and the appalling spillover of violence from one generation to the next.... In unadorned but assured prose, Greene...takes her readers to the hard-scrabble world of foster homes and juvenile detention centers, of life in a blue-collar Appalachian town.
Lisa Fugard - New York Times


Masterful.... A fascinating and authentic look at a rural world full of love and life, dreams and disappointment.
Boston Globe


If Wuthering Heights had been set in southern Appalachia, it might have taken place on Bloodroot Mountain.... Brooding, dark and beautifully imagined.
Atlanta Journal-Constitution


Reminiscent of McCarthy’s early Appalachian fiction.... Hard to put down.... What consistently remains is Greene’s spot-on account of a land and its people—with its old-fashioned Scots-Irish dialect and its close-knit communities, its homespun Christianity and its folk remedies.
Milwauke Journal Sentinel


Stirring.... The wild beauty of Appalachia is...entrancing.... The novel’s charm comes from its hints of magical realism. Women with ‘gifts’—to heal, make love potions and put curses on their enemies.
USA Today


In this saga of an Appalachian family haunted by trauma, great gifts, and greater tragedies, the story unfolds in first-person segments by rotating members of the clan, each revealing a different perspective to the same tragic events that span four generations, the principal being a beautiful, free-spirited woman whose choices drastically shape the lives of those who love her. The superb performances by the multiple cast reading the story are a saving grace to a promising but meandering novel. Each reader creates for his or her character a well-suited, textured voice rich with accent and sincerity. From Lorna Raver's sweet, artless, and determined Byrdie to Richard McGonagle's gruff John, the narrators breathe life into the young and old characters of Bloodroot Mountain.
Publishers Weekly


A family saga grounded in Appalachia, Greene's debut follows the story of the Lamb women—Byrdie, Clio, Myra, and Laura—from the Depression to the present day. Poverty, folk culture, and the often harsh conditions of Appalachian life color the loves, hatreds, and losses of the Lamb family; for these women, circumstances beyond their control—and some poor decisions of their own—lead to one unhappy ending after another. Though Greene has a flair for physical description, indistinct characters and frequent shifts in point of view throughout the novel lead to confusion, lessening the impact of the story's dramatic potential. Predictable plotlines detract from the enjoyment as well. VERDICT Fans of Appalachian culture and/or family chronicles may find something to take pleasure in here; casual popular fiction readers should likely pass. —Leigh Wright, Bridgewater, NJ
Library Journal


Greene's debut shows three generations of an eastern Tennessee family struggling against abusive men and narrow middle-class values that try to destroy their unusually active spirits. In the 1960s, Byrdie raises her granddaughter Myra on Bloodroot Mountain. She can tell early on that Myra has "the touch," an extra sensitivity passed down by the women of their family, though it skipped Byrdie. Myra's grandmother is especially devoted to her because all of Birdie's children died young, including Myra's mother Clio, whose car was hit by a train while she was out hell-raising with Myra's dad. The narration of Part One alternates between Birdie and Myra's boyhood friend Doug, who loves the wild girl but knows she'll never be his. Then puberty hits. Poor Doug, the novel's most endearing, least tortured character, disappears from the book after Myra is swept up in a passionate romance with John Odom, whose father owns a local hardware store in the valley. John's family is as "touched" in its way as Myra's. Desire turns into violent possessiveness. Greene manipulates her narrative at this point so that Myra's return to the mountain to raise twins Laura and Johnny without her husband goes unexplained. The twins' accounts alternate in Part Two; Myra and then John narrate the novel's final 100 pages. This fractured chronology builds suspense, allowing for red herrings and portentous foreshadowing like Myra's box holding a ring with a man's finger still attached. When their mother is placed in an insane asylum, the twins are sent to foster care. Laura marries, but her husband drowns, and his mother takes away their baby. Brilliant but troubled Johnny burns down the Odoms' hardware store and seemsheaded for a bad end until he meets the mysterious Ford Hendrix, a reclusive Pulitzer Prize winner who once knew Myra and is missing a finger or two. Pitch-perfect voices tell a story loaded with lyric suffering and redemption-bound to be a huge hit.
Kirkus Reviews