This is a flamboyantly ridiculous novel: a graceless, crudely-written pile of hillbilly nonsense that fascinated and repelled me at the same time.
The story follows a young girl who is abducted by a child molester and taken to live in his broken-down mountain retreat. It is told from the point of view of the girl, a dog, and the spirit (as opposed to ghost) of a former resident. The girl is a lithe young beauty, and as we watch her grow from a spunky young nymph to a
glorious pin-up, the book becomes a kind of cornpone wet dream taken to a mythic dimension.
Robin Kerr, the plucky heroine of the story, is the seven-year-old daughter of a poor single mom trying to make ends meet. She is, also, an object of lust for a sleazy cop, Sugrue "Sog" Alan, who takes her to live with him in a barely-refurbished secluded home stocked with provisions he has purchased with stolen drug money.
Sog dreams of an idyllic mountain existence with his unwilling child bride, but it doesn't quite work out. Robin does not, as he hoped, fall in love with him, and his own ill-planning, alcoholism, impotence and advancing poor health keep him in constant misery.
Robin, on the other hand, thrives over the course of years. She learns to read and farm, and uses her free time to make a full-range community of paper dolls. She is able to communicate in some limited fashion with Sog's neglected dog, Hreapha and both of them are tuned in to the with a spirit of a 12-year-old boy named Adam, spirit or "in-habit" of a former (but still living) resident of the home. The three of them are the nucleus of what becomes a family that includes Hreapha's pups, a cat named Robert, a snake named Sheba, a fawn named Dewey and an ill-tempered black bear named Paddington. She and her menagerie survive the elements, and together they conspire to bring about her reconnection with human society.
Inspired this all may seem, but Harington's imagination is actually rather thin gruel. He has no gift for language, his jokes -- which clot every page -- are groaningly unfunny, his animals are cuddly and Disneyfied, and you can almost hear him huffing and puffing every time he turns his attention to his female lead. Nonetheless,
it has the hypnotic charm of a campfire tale told by a free-basing farmhand. Even as it had me groaning, rolling my eyes, and scratching sputtering snorts of disgust in the margins, it also kept me turning the pages.
I couldn't put it down, and I've never been happier to see a book end.**