Binding Spell

This inexcusably out-of-print novel is a wonderful case of high word craft simply applied, in the ancient & honorable ways, to spinning a wise sweet funny tale. Hilarity builds steadily. Country-raised readers will recognize both superficially normal & fabulously eccentric neighbors with deep glee. Lifetime city/suburban dwellers will learn astounding facts about the peculiar potential (it is not always out here, but might be) variety of human & dog life in the sticks. Can a mere good story ever perhaps assist us in temporarily saving ourselves from some of our own most glaring/abiding/destructive idiocies? Perhaps. This could have been an early storytelling aim, one suspects, no matter how things have lately veered. Every college/university literature or writing prof in Indiana & dozens of nearby states might want to consider doing what academics can occasionally do to breathe practical life into a grand book. As a model for telling, Binding Spell is unsurpassed, worth triple the best how-to & ten times the dreadful manual of style. Elizabeth Arthur is an alert & happy & demanding & kind human animal paying very serious attention & weaving what she knows/discovers into an arresting tapestry. Or carpet. Or rug. This is 98% of the game. As lit, the book will help the mix, resist pointless shred analysis/criticism immaculately, provide nice balance against the sometimes overwhelming drone of arrogant abstraction, & elicit some student writing poured directly from student hearts. Think about this. & grin.

Arthur uses her characters to touch on a deeper sense of who human beings are. Simple things, a waiting room in a doctor's office, turns into a conspiricy. The writing is interesting, the observations are stellar, and the characters you either hate to love or love to hate.