From Epinons.com

Lean, mean, evocative and excellent.

Pros
So tightly wound yet so expansively engrossing.

Cons
Nothing really.

The Bottom Line
Want a book that seems thicker than it is because it is so satisfying? Read THIS!!!

Full Review
I could think of no more perfect recent read of mine as a subject for the “lean and mean” write-off than Glynn Marsh Alam’s compact, creepily evocative “River Whispers”.  I don’t think I have ever read a book with such a high critical mass.  In this short 127-page book Ms. Alam weaves a tale full of family history and secrets, evokes a part of the world that makes you feel like you could reach out and touch the moss, and simultaneously flashes back to a old metaphorical tale that analogizes everything that goes on the present story.  The fact that the author does all of this is such a short space while still giving you a book that never feels rushed is nothing less that extraordinary.

Maebelle Pope’s Grandma has died in Maebelle’s hometown area of the north Florida swamps.  When she returns to follow Grandma’s wishes to spread the deceased’s ashes in the swamp, a ton of powerful happenings occur in this short space of prose.

As Mae spends a few days rowing her boat and actually camps in places so evocatively rendered with creepy-crawlies that I genuinely got freaked, she relives Grandma’s old story about “Little Miss Alligator.”  As she flashes back to this childhood tale, the shocking truth of what things may have happened to and because of Grandma, the swamp and the suspenseful threat of those histories repeating themselves suck you in like swampy quicksand.

Many plot issues center around a disgusting family — the Grumans.  Did Grandma do away with a Gruman a long time ago?  Does adopted Grandpa and long-time companion of Grandma’s, Old Joe, know the truth?  Do the Grumans know the truth and are they itching for revenge against Mae herself?  And what horrible situation will Mae perhaps be thrown into that may cause her to have to repeat Grandma’s secret history?

All of this would be suspenseful enough to drive the narrative, but incredibly for this short space of words, Ms. Alam doesn’t stop there.  Intermingled in all the arresting mystery and the flashbacks are the brilliantly woven mini-plots of all the people Mae meets during her river swamp excursion.  Just who are this batch of middle-aged ladies partying up a storm and offering Mae camp shelter?  Who are all these creepy, toothless men who jump out and scare Mae but imply that they know who she is?  And who are the members of a wonderful Greek family that Mae has been close to since childhood?  I could partially answer some of those questions here, but that would diminish the joy a reader will get finding out for themselves.

By the time all of this is answered and if not resolved, at least settled for the time being, Mae makes a life changing decision after yet another painful death and the change in the main character’s life choice is fantastic in a special way.  What Mae decides to do toward the book’s end is both a surprise, yet makes such perfect sense you again are in awe of how Ms. Alam told such a perfectly COMPLETE story in such a short amount of time.  Another thing I adored about this story is the breaking away from the oft-read delusion that people from the hills (be they swampy hills or backwoodsian mountains) are all charming, if toothless eccentrics.  To see a story head on that breaks the ugly truth that a lot of these people are a hell of a lot closer to “Deliverance” than “Little House on the Prairie” is something I found very bracingly refreshing.

Do indeed make this little, but so weighty treasure a part of your reading list.  The river of the title may whisper, but Ms. Alam’s astounding writing talent screams at you like a banshee from every beautiful page of this compact, but colossal story.