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The Wilding: A Novel
The Wilding by Benjamin Percy A canyon earmarked for development as a golf resort. One last hunting trip in a vanishing wilderness. A grandfather, a son, and a grandson―plus one angry bear. Over the course of the weekend, each man will change in sharply contrasting ways.
280 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2010
27 people are currently reading
1256 people want to read
About the author
Benjamin Percy
791 books1,203 followersBenjamin Percy is the author of seven novels -- most recently The Sky Vault (William Morrow) -- three short fiction collections, and a book of essays, Thrill Me, that is widely taught in creative writing classrooms. He writes Wolverine, X-Force, and Ghost Rider for Marvel Comics. His fiction and nonfiction have been published in Esquire (where he is a contributing editor), GQ, Time, Men's Journal, Outside, the Wall Street Journal, Tin House, and the Paris Review. His honors include an NEA fellowship, the Whiting Writer's Award, the Plimpton Prize, two Pushcart Prizes, the iHeart Radio Award for Best Scripted Podcast, and inclusion in Best American Short Stories and Best American Comics.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 169 reviews
July 11, 2011
This book declined in my estimation the further I read. None of the characters elicit a ton of sympathy - maybe because ultimately they're pretty broad: the glad-handing local tycoon, the creepy stalker, the emotionally distant wife, the manly man grandfather, the wussy intellectual father, and so on. I started looking forward to the chapter breaks so that I could follow someone else's storyline, only to realize eventually that I was looking for the storyline of a character who didn't exist.
Percy's descriptions got to be pretty florid, and I was jarred by the overuse of specialized verbs ("Justin reaches out a hand for Graham so that their fingers twine and they remain together") that feel like he's trying too hard - as though he were writing for some kind of school assignment.
I really started to get annoyed with the book during the camping trip that leads to the climax. At this point, I was ready to give the book one star. The climax itself is pretty ridiculous - to the point that my roommate was laughing at seeing me actually shake my head in disbelief. I ended up going with two stars because by the end of the book, I was actually laughing out loud. The end/epilogue is comical in how many little happy endings it tries to cram in. I'm tempted to include spoilers, as there are so many that stupefied me. But maybe you should enjoy them for yourself....
Percy's descriptions got to be pretty florid, and I was jarred by the overuse of specialized verbs ("Justin reaches out a hand for Graham so that their fingers twine and they remain together") that feel like he's trying too hard - as though he were writing for some kind of school assignment.
I really started to get annoyed with the book during the camping trip that leads to the climax. At this point, I was ready to give the book one star. The climax itself is pretty ridiculous - to the point that my roommate was laughing at seeing me actually shake my head in disbelief. I ended up going with two stars because by the end of the book, I was actually laughing out loud. The end/epilogue is comical in how many little happy endings it tries to cram in. I'm tempted to include spoilers, as there are so many that stupefied me. But maybe you should enjoy them for yourself....
October 8, 2010
“The Wilding” is seriously scary. It’s largely about fear; fear of your marriage ending, fear of crime, of war, the wilderness, the loss of our national wilderness and heritage, the death of loved ones. The heart of Percy’s story is a hunting trip with three generations of men. I don’t want to say too much about their adventures or that of the wife/mother they leave on her own but Percy keeps you guessing and on the edge of your seat right to the end. He does this not with false leads but possibilities. Wait make that SCARY possibilities. This book made me realize I’ve never experienced wilderness, only nature repacked and made safe by development. Percy’s writing is also excellent.
December 29, 2010
[This review was originally published at The Nervous Breakdown:
http://www.thenervousbreakdown.com/rt...]
The Wilding by Benjamin Percy is a powerful book packed with tension, unease, and life at the edge of the forest, where quite possibly man should stay. It is an intricate weaving of several different point of views: the fractured soldier back from fighting in Baghdad, Brian, who dresses up in the hide of wild animals, creeping around the woods, spying on a woman he longs for, eager for some sort of meaningful contact; Justin, the beaten down husband of Karen, a woman unhappy and distant after a miscarriage; their son, Graham, a bookworm, about to make his first kill; and the grandfather, Paul, watching over them all with disdain, longing to make men of his boys, at whatever cost. And looming at the edge of it all is the violence of nature, the push back of locals frustrated by the expansion of business, the unseen bear that haunts the Oregon woods, waiting to tear them apart.
This story about man versus nature starts with the cover art, the black and white photograph of driftwood crowding out the darkness, barely keeping it at bay. The way the type slides towards the corner, getting smaller, the shadow hanging over the wood, the choice of the typeface even that lends itself to the swipe of a bear’s paw across the cover, the author’s name in blood red type. These are all little hints of what is to come. The book begins:
“His father came toward him with the rifle. From where Justin sat at his desk—his homework spread before him—both his father and the gun appeared to be growing, so that when handed the weapon, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to carry it. Around his father, Justin had always felt that way, as if everything were bigger than he was.”
This fear is at the heart of The Wilding, this story about a boy, Justin, who grows into a man that lives in the shadow of his own father, Paul. Throughout the novel it is a recurring theme, the way Paul berates Justin for being less than a man, too weak to keep his wife in line, too afraid of everything, of failure, of letting loose and having fun, every shadow and rustle in the brush, of letting his own son Graham have a gun, shoot it, have his first beer--it never ends. This is a battle that Justin has to keep up, and he is tested, repeatedly, until in the end, he becomes his own person, watching his son grow up fast in the face of the violence and death they witness in the woods. Their relationship becomes a bond, out of survival, and the witnessing of their true character when faced with life-altering decisions.
Intertwined with the storyline of Justin, Paul and Graham, is that of Brian, the war veteran, who is a locksmith by day, a mutated shadow by night. He was injured over in Baghdad, shrapnel scarring his flesh, taking a chunk of his head off, leaving him damaged in so many ways. Brian is emotionally distraught, distant from everyone and everything, a recluse. His mind wanders over the Oregon landscape, at times feeling as if he is back in battle, the hills and dirt reminding him of his time in the service, the quick footsteps of heels on a sidewalk sending him into a state of panic, waking up next to somebody that he nearly chokes to death. His scars and wounds make him reluctant to engage in any meaningful relationships, so he floats in the ether, untethered and lost. He is victim to random migraines that are debilitating, rendering him weak, and vulnerable.
“For a long time he did not feel he was capable of continuing to live a normal life, of achieving any sort of sense of comfort. He felt that he had lost more than a section of his skull. He had lost himself as well."
So it is not surprising when he traps and skins animals—beavers, coyote—to make a bodysuit, a costume. It is reminiscent of one he wore as a child, loping around his house with an erection straining against the fabric, until his father catches him and throws it out. He uses this false identity to go out into the woods, to stalk Karen, who is alone while her family is off in the woods. When she is accidentally locked out, Brian helps her to get into her house, being a locksmith after all, and he’s instantly infatuated with her. She is different then the rest, she is willing to lay her hand over his in the grocery store, she sees him for more than his wounds. Or so he thinks. Eventually the spell wears off and he realizes his mistakes, the relationship he thought was there, nothing but the common human kindness he so desperately needs.
“When he sets off into the trees, when he lurches forward, staying low to the ground, using his hands as well as his feet to guide him, away from his house, away from Bend, he becomes the woods, which means he doesn’t have to be anything else, invisible, gone.”
Brian’s story echoes that of Karen as well, this disconnect. She is an angry woman, purposefully detached, and unhappy:
“Tonight she grills steaks. She thinks her husband ought to do this—she thinks he ought to do a number of things, like lift weights and scream at football games and take a wrench to leaky faucets. These are, after all, things that men do. But he isn’t very handy and doesn’t have time for the gym and the only sport he watches with any interest is soccer. She doesn’t know what the right word is for him. Tame?”
The duality and depth of Karen is what makes her so interesting. You find yourself nodding your head, sympathetic to her plight. Her husband should be doing these things, like any normal man should, these acts of inherent manliness. It’s obvious what she needs—a real man, and in every sense of the word. And yet, there is a violence buried in Karen, a core of coldness that appeared after her miscarriage, and she comes off as mean, cruel at times, self-absorbed and unavailable. So we want to see her fail as well, and wonder what Brian may do to her as he watches her from the woods. She wants a brute, a beast. She wants to be taken? Well, maybe that’s what she’ll get. The raw animal instincts that reverberate throughout this novel aren’t limited to the men. She looks for danger, she attracts it with her actions, her behavior, lunch with a wealthy builder, on the verge of an affair. It is this echo to the plight of her family, stuck in the woods, late, her nerves on edge when the phone call finally comes.
If you’ve ever read any of Benjamin Percy’s short stories, in collections like The Language of Elk (Carnegie-Mellon University Press, 2006) or Refresh, Refresh (Graywolf Press, 2007) then you know he is an outdoorsman, a man of nature, his youth spent in Central Oregon. His descriptions of the woods, the rocky canyon, the land around them, is layered and fresh. Every howl of a lonely coyote, screech of an owl, every pile of fecal matter littered with berries, or rotting pile of bones dancing with flies, is a captured moment in the constant life and death struggles of the wild animals that live in this quickly disappearing habitat, the intrusion of man an unwelcome act. You are there amidst the beauty of it all, the gurgling streams, heavy with silver-backed fish, respectful of the peaceful surroundings, but never forgetful of whose home this really is, and how fragile our human lives really are.
“Along the banks of the South Fork, willows crowd together. The world tries to reflect itself in the water, but can’t. The clouds and trees and sun fall into the surface and vanish, swept away by the white water, along with their faces when they stand at twenty-yard intervals along the rocky bank and plop their spinners in the water. They have to be careful not to tangle their lines in the branches, snapping their wrists with short sidearm casts.”
In the end, there is danger made real, there is violence and death, and there is the chance for rebirth and redemption. An animal spirit has been awakened in this journey, a call to the wild, a desire to be a simple animal again, to live without thought, to exist in nature in a raw state, without politics, and worry, and machines. There is a respect for this beautiful giant that slumbers all around us, and a need to be one with it. And yet, there is a sense of our evolution, of the family and comforts that we enjoy, an appreciation for these things as well. What Benjamin Percy does in The Wilding is remind us of ourselves, who we really are, intelligent beasts, and with that comes a certain responsibility, and a grace, a reverence for how we got here.
http://www.thenervousbreakdown.com/rt...]
The Wilding by Benjamin Percy is a powerful book packed with tension, unease, and life at the edge of the forest, where quite possibly man should stay. It is an intricate weaving of several different point of views: the fractured soldier back from fighting in Baghdad, Brian, who dresses up in the hide of wild animals, creeping around the woods, spying on a woman he longs for, eager for some sort of meaningful contact; Justin, the beaten down husband of Karen, a woman unhappy and distant after a miscarriage; their son, Graham, a bookworm, about to make his first kill; and the grandfather, Paul, watching over them all with disdain, longing to make men of his boys, at whatever cost. And looming at the edge of it all is the violence of nature, the push back of locals frustrated by the expansion of business, the unseen bear that haunts the Oregon woods, waiting to tear them apart.
This story about man versus nature starts with the cover art, the black and white photograph of driftwood crowding out the darkness, barely keeping it at bay. The way the type slides towards the corner, getting smaller, the shadow hanging over the wood, the choice of the typeface even that lends itself to the swipe of a bear’s paw across the cover, the author’s name in blood red type. These are all little hints of what is to come. The book begins:
“His father came toward him with the rifle. From where Justin sat at his desk—his homework spread before him—both his father and the gun appeared to be growing, so that when handed the weapon, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to carry it. Around his father, Justin had always felt that way, as if everything were bigger than he was.”
This fear is at the heart of The Wilding, this story about a boy, Justin, who grows into a man that lives in the shadow of his own father, Paul. Throughout the novel it is a recurring theme, the way Paul berates Justin for being less than a man, too weak to keep his wife in line, too afraid of everything, of failure, of letting loose and having fun, every shadow and rustle in the brush, of letting his own son Graham have a gun, shoot it, have his first beer--it never ends. This is a battle that Justin has to keep up, and he is tested, repeatedly, until in the end, he becomes his own person, watching his son grow up fast in the face of the violence and death they witness in the woods. Their relationship becomes a bond, out of survival, and the witnessing of their true character when faced with life-altering decisions.
Intertwined with the storyline of Justin, Paul and Graham, is that of Brian, the war veteran, who is a locksmith by day, a mutated shadow by night. He was injured over in Baghdad, shrapnel scarring his flesh, taking a chunk of his head off, leaving him damaged in so many ways. Brian is emotionally distraught, distant from everyone and everything, a recluse. His mind wanders over the Oregon landscape, at times feeling as if he is back in battle, the hills and dirt reminding him of his time in the service, the quick footsteps of heels on a sidewalk sending him into a state of panic, waking up next to somebody that he nearly chokes to death. His scars and wounds make him reluctant to engage in any meaningful relationships, so he floats in the ether, untethered and lost. He is victim to random migraines that are debilitating, rendering him weak, and vulnerable.
“For a long time he did not feel he was capable of continuing to live a normal life, of achieving any sort of sense of comfort. He felt that he had lost more than a section of his skull. He had lost himself as well."
So it is not surprising when he traps and skins animals—beavers, coyote—to make a bodysuit, a costume. It is reminiscent of one he wore as a child, loping around his house with an erection straining against the fabric, until his father catches him and throws it out. He uses this false identity to go out into the woods, to stalk Karen, who is alone while her family is off in the woods. When she is accidentally locked out, Brian helps her to get into her house, being a locksmith after all, and he’s instantly infatuated with her. She is different then the rest, she is willing to lay her hand over his in the grocery store, she sees him for more than his wounds. Or so he thinks. Eventually the spell wears off and he realizes his mistakes, the relationship he thought was there, nothing but the common human kindness he so desperately needs.
“When he sets off into the trees, when he lurches forward, staying low to the ground, using his hands as well as his feet to guide him, away from his house, away from Bend, he becomes the woods, which means he doesn’t have to be anything else, invisible, gone.”
Brian’s story echoes that of Karen as well, this disconnect. She is an angry woman, purposefully detached, and unhappy:
“Tonight she grills steaks. She thinks her husband ought to do this—she thinks he ought to do a number of things, like lift weights and scream at football games and take a wrench to leaky faucets. These are, after all, things that men do. But he isn’t very handy and doesn’t have time for the gym and the only sport he watches with any interest is soccer. She doesn’t know what the right word is for him. Tame?”
The duality and depth of Karen is what makes her so interesting. You find yourself nodding your head, sympathetic to her plight. Her husband should be doing these things, like any normal man should, these acts of inherent manliness. It’s obvious what she needs—a real man, and in every sense of the word. And yet, there is a violence buried in Karen, a core of coldness that appeared after her miscarriage, and she comes off as mean, cruel at times, self-absorbed and unavailable. So we want to see her fail as well, and wonder what Brian may do to her as he watches her from the woods. She wants a brute, a beast. She wants to be taken? Well, maybe that’s what she’ll get. The raw animal instincts that reverberate throughout this novel aren’t limited to the men. She looks for danger, she attracts it with her actions, her behavior, lunch with a wealthy builder, on the verge of an affair. It is this echo to the plight of her family, stuck in the woods, late, her nerves on edge when the phone call finally comes.
If you’ve ever read any of Benjamin Percy’s short stories, in collections like The Language of Elk (Carnegie-Mellon University Press, 2006) or Refresh, Refresh (Graywolf Press, 2007) then you know he is an outdoorsman, a man of nature, his youth spent in Central Oregon. His descriptions of the woods, the rocky canyon, the land around them, is layered and fresh. Every howl of a lonely coyote, screech of an owl, every pile of fecal matter littered with berries, or rotting pile of bones dancing with flies, is a captured moment in the constant life and death struggles of the wild animals that live in this quickly disappearing habitat, the intrusion of man an unwelcome act. You are there amidst the beauty of it all, the gurgling streams, heavy with silver-backed fish, respectful of the peaceful surroundings, but never forgetful of whose home this really is, and how fragile our human lives really are.
“Along the banks of the South Fork, willows crowd together. The world tries to reflect itself in the water, but can’t. The clouds and trees and sun fall into the surface and vanish, swept away by the white water, along with their faces when they stand at twenty-yard intervals along the rocky bank and plop their spinners in the water. They have to be careful not to tangle their lines in the branches, snapping their wrists with short sidearm casts.”
In the end, there is danger made real, there is violence and death, and there is the chance for rebirth and redemption. An animal spirit has been awakened in this journey, a call to the wild, a desire to be a simple animal again, to live without thought, to exist in nature in a raw state, without politics, and worry, and machines. There is a respect for this beautiful giant that slumbers all around us, and a need to be one with it. And yet, there is a sense of our evolution, of the family and comforts that we enjoy, an appreciation for these things as well. What Benjamin Percy does in The Wilding is remind us of ourselves, who we really are, intelligent beasts, and with that comes a certain responsibility, and a grace, a reverence for how we got here.
April 26, 2013
This is a story of men out in the woods, a grandfather, his son, and grandson, also a mysterious bear like creature, a kind of Bigfoot loose in the wild.
The first person narrative used, makes great reading, visceral, and page turning.
There are some interesting characters in this story, he really gets you into the characters minds, one mysterious guy a locksmith, a veteran of war, has some strange behaviours away from the eyes of neighbours.
The married couple of this story go through some martial downs, and the wife Karen enjoys her time at home working out, relaxing, free from the attachment of her son and husband while they spend quite a while out in the wild facing some dangers and problems that arise. She feels that her father in law is a bad influence on her son and doesn't like his behaviour. He and his son do clash and have problems but there is still a strong bond at times usually due to the time they spend together doing things that men in that region like to do one being hunting down game in the woods.
There are some elements at work in this story to do with love and trust, and the consequences of the things men do, also the effects of horrors witnessed on the characters in this story.
The writing was visceral, descriptive, vivid, and had a great sense of place and emotion.
Review also @ http://more2read.com/review/the-wilding-by-benjamin-percy/
The first person narrative used, makes great reading, visceral, and page turning.
There are some interesting characters in this story, he really gets you into the characters minds, one mysterious guy a locksmith, a veteran of war, has some strange behaviours away from the eyes of neighbours.
The married couple of this story go through some martial downs, and the wife Karen enjoys her time at home working out, relaxing, free from the attachment of her son and husband while they spend quite a while out in the wild facing some dangers and problems that arise. She feels that her father in law is a bad influence on her son and doesn't like his behaviour. He and his son do clash and have problems but there is still a strong bond at times usually due to the time they spend together doing things that men in that region like to do one being hunting down game in the woods.
There are some elements at work in this story to do with love and trust, and the consequences of the things men do, also the effects of horrors witnessed on the characters in this story.
The writing was visceral, descriptive, vivid, and had a great sense of place and emotion.
“It was a bear—maybe a year old, no longer a cub, big enough to do some damage—and it was tangled in a barbed-wire fence, the barbed wire crisscrossing its body. To this day Justin remembers the blood so clearly. It was the perfect shade of red. To this day he wants an old-time car—say a Mustang or one of those James Bond Aston Martins—the color of it.
The bear, bewildered, now let its head droop and took short nervous breaths before letting loose another wail, a high-pitched sound that lowered into a baritone moan, like pulling in a trombone. A tongue hung from its mouth. Its muscles jerked and rolled beneath its pelt.
Justin stood behind a clump of rabbitbrush as if to guard himself from the animal. The bush smelled great. It smelled sugary. It smelled like the color yellow ought to smell. B concentrating on it so deeply, he removed himself from the forest and was thereby able to contain the tears crowding his eyes.
Then his father said, “I want you to kill it.”
Just like that. Like killing was throwing a knuckleball or fixing a carburettor”
“No one ever asked him about the war. Not one neighbor, not one friend or former teacher, not even if they carried a Support Our Troops ribbon on their lapel or bumper. They only said, “It’s good you’re home.” It was at moments like this, especially when their eyes lingered on his forehead—at first the bandages, later the scar tissue, bubblegum pink—that he felt on the verge of collapse. Alone. Inapt. Not a part of Iraq, not a part of Oregon. Not a marine and not a citizen—just a vessel of blood and bone and gristle floating and turning in the air. For a long time he did not feel he was capable of continuing to live a normal life, of achieving any sort of sense of comfort. He felt that he had lost more than a section of his skull. He had lost himself as well.”
“Sitting in his desert cammies on a Curtiss Commando transport plane—on his way out of Romania after a refuel, on his way to Mosul—when he peered from the window and beyond the green rolling hills and sparkling lakes and saw the Carpathians mantled with snow and felt completely alive and connected to the two hundred men around him who would face horror and frustration and who would die for one another.
That feeling is unavailable to him now. He does not see himself as part of anything, only apart. His company is best suited for the woods.”
“Paul has always been like bad weather—relentless, expansive, irritating—but since the heart attack he has grown even wilder and more unreasonable, as if, having cheated death, the laws of life no longer apply to him.”
“An owl hoots. The wind hushes it. The moon appears balanced on a high remove of rimrock. The world, awash in its blue light, appears drowned in water. He scuttles through the trees, pawing aside branches, dodging roots, leaping over logs and landing on all fours and continuing a few paces as a hunched figure before righting himself. He feels a dark wind moving through him like a cold bellows.
His boots shoosh through the sandy soil and thud against the pitted basalt, keeping time with his heart as he moves north, orienting himself by the stars and the blue-hued mountains glimpsed between the trees. And the moon, always the moon, following his passage.”
Review also @ http://more2read.com/review/the-wilding-by-benjamin-percy/
September 18, 2010
review copy from publisher
Dark and suspenseful, a bit twisted, and certainly not for the weak of stomach, The Wilding is going to make you think twice about camping out in the woods!
Graywolf Press sent me the arc for this novel quite a few months ago. The premise - grandfather, father, son, and dog head deep into Echo Canyon for one last camping trip before it's destroyed and replaced with an Indian Casino - caught my attention and something about the title and the blurb whispered "creepy read"....so I added it to my review pile and there it sat, patiently awaiting it's turn to be read.
About two weeks ago, Graywolf surprised me by sending me the Hardcover edition of the novel, which goes on sale next week. When I thanked them, I was informed that the author was going to be reading from the book at the Brooklyn Book Festival (which took place on Sept 12th, and of which I was already planning on attending!).
To the very top of the review pile it went!
I had the fascinating pleasure of listening to Benjamin Percy read a chapter from this novel (during the BKBF panel entitled "What Fresh Hell is This" - and what a fitting title name that is!) while I was still in the process of reading the book myself. His deep and booming voice stuck with me for the remaining days as I finished reading his novel. In my head, I could hear him narrating as the characters moved through their strange and terrifying experiences within Echo Canyon.
This novel is a tricky little devil. The suspense builds from page to page, at times creating a nail-biting urge within me to shout out loud through the pages to the characters to warn them of what I am afraid is coming. There were moments of false build up, where I felt myself release a breath that I did not realize I had been holding. And other moments where Benjamin twisted and turned me down a path I was not expecting.
A good portion of my teenage summers were spent camping out in the middle of the woods that was interestingly named Devil's Hole. Waterfalls and a decrepit water mill stood hidden, deep in the woods, in the middle of two developments. My friends and I would rough it out there - no tents, certainly no weapons, just sleeping bags, blankets, hamburger meat and hot dogs to cook over the fire, and some cheap booze to keep us warm when the stars were twinkling in the cool dark of night.
Never once did we think we were putting ourselves in danger of a bear attack, though we knew the area was crawling with wildlife, and luckily one never crossed our path out there. And I count those nights in Devil's Hole as some of my fondest memories. However, after reading The Wilding, I doubt I would ever venture out into the middle of the woods again, at least not without the proper protection. Or let my children have similar experiences as they get older, for fear of what might be waiting out there for them.
Benjamin not only scared the camp-girl out of me, but he also played around with the human / animal element throughout his novel.
Owls can be found throughout the story - one falls down the chimney of our main character Justin's fireplace, flapping its smoking wings throughout the house until his wife ushers it out the door. Others can be heard in the woods when Justin, his father Paul, and his son Graham are sitting around the campfire in Echo Canyon. According to owl lore, they are thought to symbolize dread and death, and I do not think it is by accident that Benjamin included them in his novel, since dread and death are abundant and at the very core of this story.
While camping out in the canyon, our three men hunt for deer, and happen to shoot and track one down into a bone graveyard. As the men stand over the dying deer, preparing to gut and skin it, they realize that the walls of the cave they are standing in houses caveman-like drawings that mirror their exact situation. Some depict men holding spears, others show men attacking a bear, some are very old, while others look fairly new. Though the scene was quite gruesome and heartwrenching (the deer in his final moments, the son asking if deer know they are dying), there was something poetic and ... normal... about that moment. A history of man vs animal laid out before them, the survival of the strongest, or smartest. The thrill of the hunt, and the excitement of the kill.
The Wilding will have you locking your doors, replacing those burnt out flood lights around the house, and carrying a flashlight when you head out for your late night strolls. It will keep you huddled around the campfire, if you're brave enough to go camping at all. One thing I know for certain - It will keep you up late into the night as you refuse to put the book down, and find you pulling those covers up around you tightly.
Dark and suspenseful, a bit twisted, and certainly not for the weak of stomach, The Wilding is going to make you think twice about camping out in the woods!
Graywolf Press sent me the arc for this novel quite a few months ago. The premise - grandfather, father, son, and dog head deep into Echo Canyon for one last camping trip before it's destroyed and replaced with an Indian Casino - caught my attention and something about the title and the blurb whispered "creepy read"....so I added it to my review pile and there it sat, patiently awaiting it's turn to be read.
About two weeks ago, Graywolf surprised me by sending me the Hardcover edition of the novel, which goes on sale next week. When I thanked them, I was informed that the author was going to be reading from the book at the Brooklyn Book Festival (which took place on Sept 12th, and of which I was already planning on attending!).
To the very top of the review pile it went!
I had the fascinating pleasure of listening to Benjamin Percy read a chapter from this novel (during the BKBF panel entitled "What Fresh Hell is This" - and what a fitting title name that is!) while I was still in the process of reading the book myself. His deep and booming voice stuck with me for the remaining days as I finished reading his novel. In my head, I could hear him narrating as the characters moved through their strange and terrifying experiences within Echo Canyon.
This novel is a tricky little devil. The suspense builds from page to page, at times creating a nail-biting urge within me to shout out loud through the pages to the characters to warn them of what I am afraid is coming. There were moments of false build up, where I felt myself release a breath that I did not realize I had been holding. And other moments where Benjamin twisted and turned me down a path I was not expecting.
A good portion of my teenage summers were spent camping out in the middle of the woods that was interestingly named Devil's Hole. Waterfalls and a decrepit water mill stood hidden, deep in the woods, in the middle of two developments. My friends and I would rough it out there - no tents, certainly no weapons, just sleeping bags, blankets, hamburger meat and hot dogs to cook over the fire, and some cheap booze to keep us warm when the stars were twinkling in the cool dark of night.
Never once did we think we were putting ourselves in danger of a bear attack, though we knew the area was crawling with wildlife, and luckily one never crossed our path out there. And I count those nights in Devil's Hole as some of my fondest memories. However, after reading The Wilding, I doubt I would ever venture out into the middle of the woods again, at least not without the proper protection. Or let my children have similar experiences as they get older, for fear of what might be waiting out there for them.
Benjamin not only scared the camp-girl out of me, but he also played around with the human / animal element throughout his novel.
Owls can be found throughout the story - one falls down the chimney of our main character Justin's fireplace, flapping its smoking wings throughout the house until his wife ushers it out the door. Others can be heard in the woods when Justin, his father Paul, and his son Graham are sitting around the campfire in Echo Canyon. According to owl lore, they are thought to symbolize dread and death, and I do not think it is by accident that Benjamin included them in his novel, since dread and death are abundant and at the very core of this story.
While camping out in the canyon, our three men hunt for deer, and happen to shoot and track one down into a bone graveyard. As the men stand over the dying deer, preparing to gut and skin it, they realize that the walls of the cave they are standing in houses caveman-like drawings that mirror their exact situation. Some depict men holding spears, others show men attacking a bear, some are very old, while others look fairly new. Though the scene was quite gruesome and heartwrenching (the deer in his final moments, the son asking if deer know they are dying), there was something poetic and ... normal... about that moment. A history of man vs animal laid out before them, the survival of the strongest, or smartest. The thrill of the hunt, and the excitement of the kill.
The Wilding will have you locking your doors, replacing those burnt out flood lights around the house, and carrying a flashlight when you head out for your late night strolls. It will keep you huddled around the campfire, if you're brave enough to go camping at all. One thing I know for certain - It will keep you up late into the night as you refuse to put the book down, and find you pulling those covers up around you tightly.
January 4, 2011
On the surface, you might consider Benjamin Percy’s chillingly brilliant new novel THE WILDING to be a classic tale of man vs. nature. Scratch beneath the surface, and you will find that man’s biggest fear is not the beast without, rather it is the beast within.
Commonly, we understand frontier times (and consequently the literature of that time) to be about (white) human beings conquering the land and conquering those (man and beast) who inhabit the land. THE WILDING has a kinship to the frontier—an exploration of the American far West, a land both mountainous and arid, where old-growth forest meets high desert. A wild place that many people have not visited and yet it is now on the fringe of expansion as more and more towns, like Bend, push beyond their boundaries into the wild.
Within The Wilding, there is a family in crisis—generations of fathers and sons and a fractured and fragile shell of a marriage—and there is a man in crisis—the creepily and yet not unfeeling drawn war vet, Brian. There is also a landscape in crisis—a once wild place about to be developed. Any one of these three would make the great basis for a novel but all three of them together, set this novel on fire. I typically read before bed but there were times that I was so on edge with reading this book that I had to put it down and pick up another so that I can make sure I would sleep. It got under my skin.
But not simply about suspense, this book is also about human beings: Justin, who has spent his life on the precipice of manhood, never fully able to jump over the line as he has been living under the thumb of his force-of-nature father; Karen, damaged nearly beyond recognition from a miscarriage, she hides her many wounds beneath her physical armor; and Brian, mentally and physically damaged by the war and grieving for his dead father, he gives in to a life time of impulses.
Each one of the main characters has a big decision to make revolving around their very sense of humanity. Will they give into temptation and give up what it means to be human? Or will they let their animal nature push through?
You will have to read to find out. You won’t be sorry you did.
Commonly, we understand frontier times (and consequently the literature of that time) to be about (white) human beings conquering the land and conquering those (man and beast) who inhabit the land. THE WILDING has a kinship to the frontier—an exploration of the American far West, a land both mountainous and arid, where old-growth forest meets high desert. A wild place that many people have not visited and yet it is now on the fringe of expansion as more and more towns, like Bend, push beyond their boundaries into the wild.
Within The Wilding, there is a family in crisis—generations of fathers and sons and a fractured and fragile shell of a marriage—and there is a man in crisis—the creepily and yet not unfeeling drawn war vet, Brian. There is also a landscape in crisis—a once wild place about to be developed. Any one of these three would make the great basis for a novel but all three of them together, set this novel on fire. I typically read before bed but there were times that I was so on edge with reading this book that I had to put it down and pick up another so that I can make sure I would sleep. It got under my skin.
But not simply about suspense, this book is also about human beings: Justin, who has spent his life on the precipice of manhood, never fully able to jump over the line as he has been living under the thumb of his force-of-nature father; Karen, damaged nearly beyond recognition from a miscarriage, she hides her many wounds beneath her physical armor; and Brian, mentally and physically damaged by the war and grieving for his dead father, he gives in to a life time of impulses.
Each one of the main characters has a big decision to make revolving around their very sense of humanity. Will they give into temptation and give up what it means to be human? Or will they let their animal nature push through?
You will have to read to find out. You won’t be sorry you did.
April 21, 2012
I can't recall why I ordered The Wilding. I believe I read a short story of Mr. Percy's somewhere, or maybe it was simply his nterview of Peter Straub in Tin House - although that seems a weak thread for buying a book - but at any rate the description of The Wilding on Amazon seemed sufficiently intriguing to merit purchase. It is a so so reading experience. As suspense books go, he is mildly more literary than, say, a Stephen King, but the characters all come out of Central Casting and lack the dimension necessary to elicit the attachment of the reader. As to the plot, it too is not fully developed. There are two subplots to the main tale of the gruff grandfather, ineffectual father and malleable son which go nowhere, and even the main tale has an abrupt and anticlimactic ending.
Having said all that, Mr. Percy's writing shows flashes of brilliance; he can create feelings of dread at times and he is a fast read. He gets into his characters heads well, but they just need something a bit more original to say. If he more fully develops his characters and plotlines, subsequent novels may be more rewarding.
Having said all that, Mr. Percy's writing shows flashes of brilliance; he can create feelings of dread at times and he is a fast read. He gets into his characters heads well, but they just need something a bit more original to say. If he more fully develops his characters and plotlines, subsequent novels may be more rewarding.
August 14, 2017
Three generations of boys + men go a-hunting in Oregon's high desert, on land that is scheduled to be de-wilded. They run afoul of everything from hostile rednecks to the only grizzly bear left in the state, not to mention a fair number of leaden, on-the-nose pathetic fallacies. Bad things happen. Meanwhile, at home in Bend, the only female member of the family is menaced by a deranged war veteran / locksmith who dresses up in animal skins to stalk her and skitter around on rural routes at night. It's wild stuff all right. If you can get past the extreme dumbness of the protagonist and his father, who decide to stick out their hunting trip despite threats from a Deliverance type and literally stumbling over the dead, chewed-on body of a hapless camper, this one might hold some thrills for you. For me, it didn't. Three stars because the pacing is good and most of the sentences are just fine--although man oh man, you put three dudes in a demanding natural environment and you'd better watch out for those metaphors clanging in all directions.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 8, 2011
Benjamin Percy's writing style is both beautiful and visceral, which makes for a great read on every page. He builds tension slowly and ominously, sucking the reader deep into the dark minds of his characters.
I appreciate the fact that he writes from an overtly masculine style, which seems to be frowned upon in literary circles. This is a book about men, and the stylistic approach Percy uses enhances the masculinity of the narrative.
Easily one of the best books I've read in a couple years.
I appreciate the fact that he writes from an overtly masculine style, which seems to be frowned upon in literary circles. This is a book about men, and the stylistic approach Percy uses enhances the masculinity of the narrative.
Easily one of the best books I've read in a couple years.
January 31, 2011
I was a little nervous that this was going to remind me of Hemingway's Nick Adams stories. I read some of those once to a Hospice client, and got sick of campfire, coffee and sizzling bacon descriptions.
This is not Nick Adams. Three generations of guys go to the woods to try and mend some fences and end up having a heck of a scary adventure. During a long winter night, who doesn't love a bear story? This definitely kept me on the edge of my seat.
This is not Nick Adams. Three generations of guys go to the woods to try and mend some fences and end up having a heck of a scary adventure. During a long winter night, who doesn't love a bear story? This definitely kept me on the edge of my seat.
July 25, 2023
I have enjoyed some of Benjamin Percy's work such as his short story collection Suicide Woods and his podcast work with Marvel's Wolverine, so I looked up an early work of his on audio. Set near Bend, Oregon it is a story of an extended family during a time of change and turmoil. We are given several perspectives that weave in and out chapter to chapter- Justin, who is an academic who is not fully respected by either his wife or father, Karen his wife who recently suffered a miscarriage and has become cold and aloof, Paul the rugged grandfather who is master at belittling, and Brian a damaged war vet who is fixated on Karen. Justin, his son and his father go on a hunting trip together to a canyon that is scheduled for development, but the weekend begins to go sideways with a bear stalking them, plus Karen at home is at risk from two men with different motives. This story didn't prove to be as suspenseful or as thrilling as I had hoped, but I still will be seeking out further work by Percy who developed as a writer since this debut novel.
June 15, 2012
When I found this book at the local used bookstore for cheap, I had no idea who Benjamin Percy is, but this particular copy is a signed, first edition, slipcased Powell's Indiespensable, so I had to buy it. Then when I read the first eighty pages, I had very high hopes. Percy's prose is something akin to Jonathan Franzen's, with metaphors and symbols aplenty, great use of shifting points of view, and interesting characterization.
The main plot of The Wilding is a camping trip with father Justin, son Graham, and grandfather Paul. From the first night, it's clear there is a malevolent beast roaming their woods, stalking the camping party. Meanwhile at home, Justin's wife Karen is being stalked by a couple predators, one a real estate tycoon who wants to bed her and the other, Brian, whose intentions are unclear, but can only be described as eccentric, as he feels most comfortable within a hair suit he's created from beavers and other small mammals he's trapped in the woods.
It turns out Brian is the most intriguing and sympathetic character. Home from Iraq with an IED-inflicted hole in his skull and post-traumatic stress to boot, he finds solace only in Karen, who barely registers him on her radar. And thus he becomes a bear in his own right, though much more harmless than the bear closing in on Justin and his camping company.
The first eighty or hundred pages passed quickly and I could feel myself beginning to fall in love with the characters. Brian with his troubled, muddled, headache-befuddled mind. Karen with her sense that there is something wrong with her marriage and with her husband, but she doesn't know what, only that she is unhappy. Justin and his confusion as to why his wife hasn't had sex with him in the past six months, his fear of being unable to protect his son from the wilderness.
There is much potential in this story, but Percy takes what could be a very interesting family drama and makes it a nightmare vacation action movie. The climax is a showdown with a beast rather than a showdown with his wife. And Brian's plot, the best thing the book had going, just disappeared without a satisfying conclusion or character development.
Benjamin Percy obviously has great talents and can write an entertaining read with well-composed prose, so I will give him more chances in the future. The Wilding was not a bad read at all, but it portended a much greater story than it ultimately gave.
The main plot of The Wilding is a camping trip with father Justin, son Graham, and grandfather Paul. From the first night, it's clear there is a malevolent beast roaming their woods, stalking the camping party. Meanwhile at home, Justin's wife Karen is being stalked by a couple predators, one a real estate tycoon who wants to bed her and the other, Brian, whose intentions are unclear, but can only be described as eccentric, as he feels most comfortable within a hair suit he's created from beavers and other small mammals he's trapped in the woods.
It turns out Brian is the most intriguing and sympathetic character. Home from Iraq with an IED-inflicted hole in his skull and post-traumatic stress to boot, he finds solace only in Karen, who barely registers him on her radar. And thus he becomes a bear in his own right, though much more harmless than the bear closing in on Justin and his camping company.
The first eighty or hundred pages passed quickly and I could feel myself beginning to fall in love with the characters. Brian with his troubled, muddled, headache-befuddled mind. Karen with her sense that there is something wrong with her marriage and with her husband, but she doesn't know what, only that she is unhappy. Justin and his confusion as to why his wife hasn't had sex with him in the past six months, his fear of being unable to protect his son from the wilderness.
There is much potential in this story, but Percy takes what could be a very interesting family drama and makes it a nightmare vacation action movie. The climax is a showdown with a beast rather than a showdown with his wife. And Brian's plot, the best thing the book had going, just disappeared without a satisfying conclusion or character development.
Benjamin Percy obviously has great talents and can write an entertaining read with well-composed prose, so I will give him more chances in the future. The Wilding was not a bad read at all, but it portended a much greater story than it ultimately gave.
November 23, 2010
benjamin percy's debut novel the wilding quickly carves a captivating and suspenseful story, yet seems to stumble somewhere amidst its climax and dénouement. what begins as an intriguing tale with many narrative threads, concludes in a somewhat hasty, contrived manner. whereas i found myself nearly enraptured by the book early on, i was ultimately disappointed by the work as a whole. characters that percy undoubtedly worked hard to establish never seem to develop fully and are finally left to flounder in a way seemingly unlikely given the story's trajectory. narrative threads are either left unresolved or dissolve into a perfunctory end.
parts of the wilding do indeed illustrate percy's writing talent, especially his ability to capture and convey the essence of place (the story is set in central oregon). percy concerns himself with the ongoing politics of conservation and development, especially pertinent given the story's setting. as well, the hardships endured by a returning iraq war veteran figure prominently into the plot. though the novel, initially, shows promise in weaving these seemingly disparate elements together, they never fully coalesce in any believable way. the wilding establishes many conflicts, yet fails to explore them beyond a cursory consideration. this novel may have benefited from an extra hundred pages in which percy could have expanded on the characters and their respective dramas. the wilding has its thrilling moments, yet despite its long trek into the wilderness, it failed to save enough energy for the necessary trip back out.
parts of the wilding do indeed illustrate percy's writing talent, especially his ability to capture and convey the essence of place (the story is set in central oregon). percy concerns himself with the ongoing politics of conservation and development, especially pertinent given the story's setting. as well, the hardships endured by a returning iraq war veteran figure prominently into the plot. though the novel, initially, shows promise in weaving these seemingly disparate elements together, they never fully coalesce in any believable way. the wilding establishes many conflicts, yet fails to explore them beyond a cursory consideration. this novel may have benefited from an extra hundred pages in which percy could have expanded on the characters and their respective dramas. the wilding has its thrilling moments, yet despite its long trek into the wilderness, it failed to save enough energy for the necessary trip back out.
December 29, 2010
I debated between three and four stars on this one, but decided that the strength of the prose was worth four. This was a strong debut novel, but it's plagued by some flaws that will probably embarrass Mr. Percy later in his career. A subplot featuring the protagonist's wife and a stalker feels tacked on and unnecessary, particularly because the wife is a thoroughly unlikable character. The novel is far stronger when dealing with the three generations of men in the woods. This is clearly the heart of the novel and where Mr. Percy's interest lies. Had he spent more of his time here and deepened his exploration of their relationships to one another, the wilderness, and civilization, this likely could have been a five-star novel. Particularly had he also fixed the one aspect of the novel's epilogue that truly feels like a cheat.
I recognize that from the first paragraph of this review it sounds like I didn't enjoy The Wilding. Nothing could be further from the truth. It was a highly enjoyable novel--one of those that's just good enough to frustrate you that it's not even better. The prose is wonderful, and the portraits of three generations of men out in the woods are very strong. Mr. Percy can also handle a suspense scene. I'm looking forward to what his second and third novels bring.
I recognize that from the first paragraph of this review it sounds like I didn't enjoy The Wilding. Nothing could be further from the truth. It was a highly enjoyable novel--one of those that's just good enough to frustrate you that it's not even better. The prose is wonderful, and the portraits of three generations of men out in the woods are very strong. Mr. Percy can also handle a suspense scene. I'm looking forward to what his second and third novels bring.
September 28, 2011
I was pretty hopeful going into this book. I thought the premise of a hunting trip of a father, son and grandfather sounded great. Throw in being stalked by a bear and tension between the grandfather and father and I was ready to go. I was very disappointed.
The chapters themselves were entertaining enough and short enough to digest easily, but they never felt like they came together and made a worthwhile plot from beginning to end. The tension between the fathers never reached the level that I had hoped and the stalking of the bear, while set up nicely at first, never felt truly threatening until the last chapter. Even then, it was short-lived and never intense.
The other plots involving the wife, the developer and the veteran showed promise, but their conclusions felt more like a sparkler dying in your hand instead of a bottle rocket launching out of your hand ending in a aerial display.
I couldn't help but think that I was watching the literary equivalent to a low budget, indie film that relies on simple props, quirky music, and glances and stares between characters to mask the lack of a budget.
The chapters themselves were entertaining enough and short enough to digest easily, but they never felt like they came together and made a worthwhile plot from beginning to end. The tension between the fathers never reached the level that I had hoped and the stalking of the bear, while set up nicely at first, never felt truly threatening until the last chapter. Even then, it was short-lived and never intense.
The other plots involving the wife, the developer and the veteran showed promise, but their conclusions felt more like a sparkler dying in your hand instead of a bottle rocket launching out of your hand ending in a aerial display.
I couldn't help but think that I was watching the literary equivalent to a low budget, indie film that relies on simple props, quirky music, and glances and stares between characters to mask the lack of a budget.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 9, 2011
The Wilding is less an eco novel and more a study on the nature of masculinity both socialized and inherent. Oddly, it reminded me of Sam Peckinpah's Straw Dogs even though the plots bear little resemblance to each other.
There are two main threads in this novel that run side by side and reflect off each other rather than intertwine. In one thread we have the story of grandfather, father, and son attempting to bridge the generation gap while battling a wilderness area that grows increasingly hostile as the story progresses. The other, slighter thread involves the mother battling a temptation to her fidelity while being stalked by a disturbed veteran. I liked the conceit of these parallel stories that seldom intersect, but although there are moments when the events of one story shed a nicely philosophic light on the events of the other, I think it ultimatly fails. The weaker stalker storyline is unable to keep pace with the much meatier wilderness adventure.
The novel touches on interesting issues in interesting ways, and I will look for more from Percy.
There are two main threads in this novel that run side by side and reflect off each other rather than intertwine. In one thread we have the story of grandfather, father, and son attempting to bridge the generation gap while battling a wilderness area that grows increasingly hostile as the story progresses. The other, slighter thread involves the mother battling a temptation to her fidelity while being stalked by a disturbed veteran. I liked the conceit of these parallel stories that seldom intersect, but although there are moments when the events of one story shed a nicely philosophic light on the events of the other, I think it ultimatly fails. The weaker stalker storyline is unable to keep pace with the much meatier wilderness adventure.
The novel touches on interesting issues in interesting ways, and I will look for more from Percy.
December 14, 2011
The degree to which Percy captures the experience of being in the forest is impressive and enviable, especially the ease with which he incorporates the details of flora and fauna, and the novel caught me quickly. As it developed, though, the elements I was most excited by got downplayed and the story hewed closer to the tropes of the wilderness adventure more than I'd hoped. So it ended up a reaffirmation of familiar attitudes of masculinity, the wild as foil to the domestic, the redemption of progress and technology, etc. (I can't imagine a more literal example of that than the novel's climactic scene) rather than a challenge or reinvention of those. Not that every novel needs to challenge or reinvent its genre, but it seemed this one was headed that way early on and that's what drew me in.
May 18, 2011
This is in no way equal to James Dickey's classic Deliverance. The novel really dragged on in plot and took forever to get any momentum going until the last 40 pages. I couldn't for the life of me determine where Percy was going with this book from a theme prospective. The major theme I saw were 1) the affect of war on the human psychie 2) Man vs. Nature with the whole Echo Canyon project but I thought this could have been better presented. 3) marriage and relationships though this was not well wrapped up. We really never understand what brings Karen back around to her husband.
The whole thing with Brian running around in a monkey outfit and stalking Karen was just weird but I guess it was an extension of the war trauma.
All in all a so-so book.
The whole thing with Brian running around in a monkey outfit and stalking Karen was just weird but I guess it was an extension of the war trauma.
All in all a so-so book.
October 28, 2010
A bit thrillerish and over-busy plotwise for literary fiction, but native son Percy displays an astute grasp of Central Oregon’s geography, weather, flora, fauna and people in his first novel. The best portrayal of what it’s like to live in Oregon I’ve read since Ken Kesey’s “Sometimes A Great Notion,” it basically tells of a hunting-fishing trip that goes seriously awry for a Bend-area teacher, his macho father and his precocious son. Think “Deliverance” moves to Oregon.
May 5, 2011
Much ado about nothing...
There was so much build up, and then the end fizzled, with nothing coming together.
It was an interesting study in the relationship between fathers and sons across two generations.
Unfortunately, that insight into the manly relationships wasn't enough to warrant a higher rating.
However, it was very smoothly written and an easy read. And I did finish it, so it gets two stars.
There was so much build up, and then the end fizzled, with nothing coming together.
It was an interesting study in the relationship between fathers and sons across two generations.
Unfortunately, that insight into the manly relationships wasn't enough to warrant a higher rating.
However, it was very smoothly written and an easy read. And I did finish it, so it gets two stars.
January 7, 2013
Good sentences. Percy has a gift for description and setting. The construction of the novel is flawed. Breaking the narrative into four or five perspectives doesn't quite work. Karen's POV seems extraneous, as does Paul's. Brian's and Justin's points of view are better developed. The bit with the bear strains credulity.
February 28, 2021
This dark thriller revolves around fathers and sons, exploring the impact parents can have on children as well as on each other. It touches on even more ambitious themes, but they turn out to be dead ends when the established tensions between pairs of characters all peter out at the conclusion. A very entertaining story without the confidence to take a stance on its themes.
December 26, 2010
This damn book was very, very well written and thoughtful. But it is all buildup. The ending is dull and anti-climatic with way too many loose ends. I enjoyed the read until I discovered I was reading a 288 page preface.
November 23, 2021
A thrilling and tightly written exploration of one family's encounter with the wildness that - Percy suggests - exists within us all. All the more impressive when you consider that this was Benjamin Percy's debut novel.
December 22, 2010
good enough to keep me from putting it down, but not good enough to make me recommend it. quick, easy read, pretty predictable, but entertaining nonetheless
April 26, 2017
This author might have promise - he can write an original, surprising sentence - but overall the book did not hold my interest and I did not finish it.
March 15, 2012
One day, the only way we'll be able to enjoy nature will be to buy National Geographic and BBC nature specials with calm, soothing narration by people like Morgan Freeman and David Attenborough.
November 17, 2024
I'm guessing the list of authors who've been published by both the indie literary Graywolf Press and Marvel Comics isn't the longest, but Percy is on it. This was his first novel and is straight fiction, before he moved into horror, sci-fi, and comics. It's set in Bend, Oregon (about a hundred miles east of Eugene, where Percy grew up), and takes place over the course of a weekend camping trip by three generations of men.
The protagonist is a high-school teacher, raising a booklish 12-year-old son with his organic-obsessed nutritionist wife. Their marriage is close to wrecking on the rocks of losing a child to a miscarriage at 5 months, and they are barely more than cohabitants of the same bedroom. His father is an old-school man's man, a brusque, 260-pound builder, who wants one last visit to the canyon he's hunted in his entire life, before it gets developed into a golf course and fancy houses. Roaming around in the subplots are the developer and his Native American antagonist, but also an Iraq War vet who has returned to Bend with significant mental health challenges. While the teacher and his family are off camping in the woods, the developer and the vet each develop an interest in the wife. This plays out in different kinds of tension.
But the focus of the story is on the camping trip and all the subtle and non-so-subtle testosterone jockeying and family power dynamics. This all feels very real, if a little too on the nose at times, and reading about Percy's free-range childhood roaming a 40-acre farm, and his father's career as a self-employed entrepreneur, it's not hard to see where at least some of the inspiration came from. There is peril, both psychological and literal -- with a hostile redneck, a decayed corpse, and a grizzly all circling the characters.
The protagonist is a high-school teacher, raising a booklish 12-year-old son with his organic-obsessed nutritionist wife. Their marriage is close to wrecking on the rocks of losing a child to a miscarriage at 5 months, and they are barely more than cohabitants of the same bedroom. His father is an old-school man's man, a brusque, 260-pound builder, who wants one last visit to the canyon he's hunted in his entire life, before it gets developed into a golf course and fancy houses. Roaming around in the subplots are the developer and his Native American antagonist, but also an Iraq War vet who has returned to Bend with significant mental health challenges. While the teacher and his family are off camping in the woods, the developer and the vet each develop an interest in the wife. This plays out in different kinds of tension.
But the focus of the story is on the camping trip and all the subtle and non-so-subtle testosterone jockeying and family power dynamics. This all feels very real, if a little too on the nose at times, and reading about Percy's free-range childhood roaming a 40-acre farm, and his father's career as a self-employed entrepreneur, it's not hard to see where at least some of the inspiration came from. There is peril, both psychological and literal -- with a hostile redneck, a decayed corpse, and a grizzly all circling the characters.
April 5, 2022
The book plays with the balance between being civilized and being wild, and in doing so says something inescapable about masculinity and femininity. You see it in the languishing marriage between Justin and Karen. You see it in the contentious relationship between Justin, his father Paul, and his son Graham. You see it in the psycho-veteran Brian who dresses up in a skin suit and stalks Karen. You see it in Echo Canyon itself, and the political wranglings behind its looming development. There is a need for men to have a wild side that remains tethered to civilization, which is what a healthy marriage between a man and a woman is. Too much wildness leads to tragedy as we see with Paul, whose pride results in his ultimate incapacitation at the hands of a stroke. It is also seen in Brian, who teeters on the edge of being a serial killer before disappearing into the woods. But too much civility leads to a shrewd rigidness, best portrayed by Karen’s strict dietary and exercise regiments or in Justin's emasculated angst. There is a delicate balance to find, and the story deals with the difficulty of landing on the right proportion. The best part of this book is the interplay between the grandfather, father, and son. They are the best embodiment of this wilding conundrum. The extra narrative about the psycho skin suit guy stalking Justin’s wife is the weakest. It didn’t need to be in the story and doesn’t ultimately resolve. The story could have been fine without it.
February 9, 2018
"The Wilding" is both a work of breath-stopping suspense and multi-level horror as well as a literary triumph -- James Dickey's "Deliverance" is such as novel, but Percy's book is even better because its well-developed characters defy expectations in novel, pleasing, 3D ways, and the metaphors are always precise and tight, feeling completely natural to the situation of the moment and never distracting; they feel necessary to the story. In fact I've learned some things about metaphor and simile from reading Percy's work. I have now read all four Benjamin Percy novels and am headed next to his two short-story collections.
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