The Pale Flesh of Wood by Elizabeth A. Tucker starts out strong with a father and his daughter, 7 year old Lyla in their backyard getting ready to put up a tire swing on the giant, old tree that dominates the landscape and, in some ways, their lives. Lyla is scared and Dad alternately cajoles and bullies her until she finally gets the courage to climb out on the limb and hang the rope.

Lyla is left proud of herself, adoring of her father but with some background resentment at his pushing her. This dynamic in many ways defines her life and future relationship.

The novel is a deep look at a dysfunctional family and the ways it comes together as well as the ways it falls apart. The writing is strong and Tucker is particularly strong in the childhood chapters. My reaction may at least in part be informed by my own bias--I am more interested in childhood traumas, and the strategies for coping that children develop. I found the story the most compelling in the first half of the book. There are some beautifully compelling scenes in the later chapters and a feeling of completion at the end of the story.

Thanks to She Writes Press, NetGalley and the author for providing me with a copy of this book.

Not gonna lie, I was a bit disappointed by this one. My initial expectations were just too high for what was resented on the pages and at times this felt like a chore to read. The synopsis pulled me in but the book’s execution didn’t keep me in.

The cadence and timeline of the beginning felt hard to follow and didn’t flow well. While the ending felt sudden and like it came out of nowhere. And I think a lot of my feelings about the book overall came from the set up in the beginning being a bit all over the place.

I quite liked Lyla and really felt a kinship with her, but as expected and intended, the adults in her life were unlikable, irresponsible and downright rude. Again, this feels intended, so necessarily a negative. Lyla’s mother never fully comes to terms with her own grief, from the miscarriages all the way to Lyla’s father’s death and she places a lot of that on Lyla’s shoulders which makes for an interesting dynamic. Lyla’s father clearly had his own issues and while I didn’t enjoy how he treated Lyla, it laid groundwork for the rest of the book.

<b>Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the arc in exchange for an honest review! </b>

The Pale Flesh of Wood is centered around loss and unprocessed grief. The tragedy at the book's heart is given away even before the first page is turned. The description informs the reader that Charles Hawkins will end up hanging himself from the family's oak tree, using the rope his daughter tied to a branch for a tire swing.

The relationships between the characters truly spoke to how hard times can affect people. Lyla's father was clearly crazy about his daughter. Still, the demons he fought were evident in his lack of responsibility as a father, and ultimately in his decision to take his own life. The relationship with Lyla's mother was greatly impacted by her inability to face her grief, and the underlying blame she (perhaps subconsciously) placed on her daughter for the death of her husband. It was the same with her strict paternal grandmother who did what she could to help Lyla while being a woman very set in her ways.

The book takes place over six decades, with the focus primarily falling on Lyla, the daughter who felt responsible for her father's death. The timeline is a little tricky to follow and the cadence didn't allow the story to flow freely, especially in the beginning. This is supposed to be historical fiction, but very little about the book felt like it was meant to occur forty to ninety years back. Apart from knowing Charles is a WWII veteran, I kept forgetting the periods in which the story was based.

Tucker did an excellent job of creating characters you care about. I felt connected to Lyla as she navigated her teen years into adulthood and became a woman finding her place in the world. The major lesson here is that nothing you do will change the past, and the only way to overcome your trauma and grief is to face it and move through it.

I felt like the beginning of the book was difficult to get into, and the ending was rather abrupt. Had the author created a better rhythm with time periods and made it easier to follow in the beginning, I would have enjoyed the book a lot more. Overall, I think it's a good story centered around a very traumatic event and the way it can consume the rest of your life. 3.5 Stars.

Thank you to NetGalley for this ARC copy!

✰ 3 stars ✰

“Can you imagine what that tree has seen? What it’s lived through? Boy, if trees could talk, now that would be something.”

That would be something indeed.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It is the likeliness to the very tree that played a part in ending her father's life that makes Lyla's story an absorbing and poignant one. One that begins with showing just exactly what kind of tenuous relationship she had with her father, one full of love and admiration, but also neglectful responsibility that made it difficult for her to truly let go of his memory. It is that challenge of not being able to move on - to lose the chance of saying goodbye that bemoans the Hawkins family - a family already rift with tension due to the controlling manners of Lyla's paternal grandmother, a matriarch that demanded absolute respect and tolerated no insolence, let alone indecency that could demoralize the family name.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It is on those precedents that makes Lyla's coming-of-age laden with grief and insolence of her own making. One where despite how she tries to connect with her mother fails to do so; one where she seeks out some sort of place that she could feel like she could finally fit in - one where she could rid herself of her own guilt in somehow inadvertently blaming herself for her father's suicide. 'Lyla will wish it was the only kind of pain she’d have to endure—' A heartbreaking tragedy that no one was entirely prepared for how it would devastate the entire family.

“She is paralyzed by all she sees.
And all that she will never see again.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ While I did struggle a bit with the different stages of Lyla's life and the direction in which her character grew and her personality developed, I did find it believably portrayed. Her relationship with her father had been one of both love and adoration, but one also wary of his unreliable and irresponsible tendencies - afflictions that made her hesitant and doubtful of his actions. 'But what had he meant, exactly, when he talked in that strange way? About the cruelties of nature and erosion of time?' It is that neglectful nature that makes it easy for the audience to believe that he could be capable of taking his own life - until the point where it is revealed why he did - a plot point which I actually pretty much figured out right from the start, but still.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It added a certain depth to her character, a sharp contrast to her mother's own insecure and flippant disregards and whims due to her own inability to move on entirely from her husband's death, let alone find it in herself to not hold her daughter responsible for taking him away. For through the memories and the moments that we experience, do we allow grief to shed its skin - for it to lose its ability to have such a hold on us, so that through the changes we face it is made possible for us to not look to the past and live in the present. 'She needs to search for clues hidden in her father’s eyes that she may have missed in all these years.' Much like a tree yearning to reach for the sky -spreading its limbs to embrace all that is within its reach, Lyla made mistakes and hasty decisions; but it was her way of growing up - her own form of rebellion to not let her father's death conquer her entirely.

“I just want to forget him. I almost have, you know. And if you all would just—” Lyla wiped her nose with her sleeve. “Just . . . just give it a rest, and maybe we could move on. We can just forget he ever existed, once and for all.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ While the story is a bit slow-paced, it does keep your attention. I questioned a few writing choices and dynamic shifts, and the plot reveal was not as much of a surprise as the author might think. It was quite obvious actually, not exactly a new idea. But, I do get what the author intended, especially when you once again compare Lyla to a tree - who it continues to grow from its humble roots, 'a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.' And the story does stay with me long after; despite the qualms I had with certain written parts, I was able to wade through it comfortably so; which is odd, considering the narrative also haphazardly jumped at times through time and perspective, but Lyla's narration was gripping enough that it was easy to slip right back into the plot after.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ I did find the ending a bit abrupt; the time jumps were a bit inconsistent, but the ending, especially, needed a little work. But, I think it had to do with more of the fact that her challenge was finally drawing to a close - that the closure she was searching for she had finally found that made it not an explosive understanding, but a quiet one. It makes you understand how The Pale Flesh of Wood describes the innermost parts of herself - one that steadily grew alongside said tree that played such a cursed, if not fixated part of her life. It is in those final moments that she finally is able to part from that grip of loneliness and grief that had afflicted her for so long that makes her realize that just because one branch of her heart has been tragically lost, does not mean that she has to stop growing in the process. A life-altering shift that teaches her inner peace that perhaps what she may have lost may have always been with her all along.

*Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.