Gival Press (2007)

The language is fresh, the stories stimulating. Holly Farris’s first short story collection, Lockjaw, offers poignant glimpses into the interior lives of an array of diverse characters that linger in the reader’s mind. Her Appalachian narrators, though deeply rooted in Southwest Virginia, exhibit characteristics universally human. As they grapple with life’s challenges in ways not always successful, they struggle to understand their place in this world, whether on their own or in relation to others.

Farris deftly displays the existential angst bubbling just below the surface of her characters, an act that leaves the reader often uncomfortable and confronting his or her own insecurities or metaphysical challenges. In fact, the characters invite the reader to embark on a probing journey in fiction that mirrors the fullness of life.

Farris divides the stories into three sections: Youth, Maturity, Old Age. In each section readers encounter a different narrator of varying sex, sexual orientation, race, education level, socio-economic status, and age. The opening story, “Bloom,” however, is written by an omniscient narrator who employs flower metaphors to illustrate the colorful characters to follow in the subsequent chapters.

From the start Farris demonstrates her creative word play as the speaker asserts, “When you awaken in early spring, watch for wayward flowers. Around ruined country chimneys, clay stripes like new cuts. Soil stigmata weep. Daffodil heads ruffle and nod; purple iris leapfrog across pocked fields. Tulips riot, calico, in midday sun. Flowers either mutiny or they march fencerows.” Words typically used as nouns rouse the reader’s attention as verbs. Common verbs paired with uncommon nouns provide new ways of seeing and understanding the seemingly mundane. Readers grow alert to expect the unexpected.

The title story of the collection, which falls in the “Maturity” section, is indeed about a character, Brenda, who miraculously recovers from lockjaw, another name for tetanus. But the narrator, Janelle, is a young high school dropout who’s pregnant from a one-day fling with a 10th-grade boy trying to dodge boredom. As the two girls work Shuff’s roadside store during the stifling heat of a 1960s summer, Janelle envies Brenda’s luck and resents her own state of affairs.

As Brenda concludes her story, however, Janelle begins to feel sorry for Brenda and realizes, “I felt she needed me, needed someone, so she could spit out how it was to be so alone and then feel her way back. Pulling herself out of her own self-pity, Janelle reaches out to Brenda—with an orange Popsicle, the kind that splits down the middle and can be shared.

Yearning for a human connection, lonely in her aloneness, Brenda takes the Popsicle leg and traces the outline of Janelle’s neck, back, shoulders, and belly with the frozen tip, offering her a small, cool respite from the oppressive heat. Thus, a temporary bond is formed, the healing continued, for Janelle reveals, “Circles and circles she drew, the paper envelope catching what sweet melted until its little leg twisted, leaving me sure there’s no feeling better than returning from alone.” The girls connect in a most intimate way as each continues to heal from both old and new wounds. Both girls survive and undergo miraculous recoveries—together.

In the concluding “Old Age” section, readers encounter characters aging, dying, or already dead. They also meet characters left to sort through the emotions of dealing with such end-of-life matters. Farris comes full circle in her writing. The life cycle is complete. In “Bringing up the Dead,” readers are transported to an earlier time in Appalachia’s labor history, the time when mules were replaced with motors in the coalmines.

From the opening line the narrator, Anthony, explains his appreciation for the mules, animals his Boss calls “beasts of burden.” “Mules are more honest than any man. I’ve treated them accordingly, all the years I’ve managed a string in this underground mine.” Not only have the mules faithfully hauled coal from the mountain’s belly, Anthony recalls their role in bringing out “recent mashed boys to a car waiting at the switch on the tracks.” Hence, Farris’s title, at face value, reports the mules’ “bringing up the dead” from roof falls and explosions.

As with this final story, Farris’s entire collection contains difficult themes that resonate with readers as challenges of day-to-day life. The Appalachian setting unites the characters and influences many of their actions, but the diverse cast provides readers of all persuasions an opportunity to learn and investigate their own emotional reactions to similar scenarios. Truly, readers beyond the boundaries of Appalachia have just as much to gain as insiders. And Farris gifts us all with the genius of her pen.

Dr. Theresa L. Burriss is the Director of the Learning Assistance Resource Center at Radford University and is an Assistant Professor of English & Appalachian Studies there as well.