Remember those air-freshening cardboard pines that spun from dashboard lighters? Reading McElroy's stories is like experiencing thousands of scents at once, one triggers the next, just as history sets the intertwined narratives spinning. The prose is poetic and insightful, gathering around you in the same way the scent of cardboard pines sold by Blind Bertie permeate the world of the 1960s.
Stories about black Americans, the children and children's children of the last generation of slaves. Gritty, people are often unkind, gangs, poverty, breakdowns in relationships are supported underneath by a strong thread of female community strength. You can taste the dust in your mouth and hear the train wheels screech to a halt as you read--evocative. Occasional irritation at the overlike the author has for some characters surfaces too--I wish there had been more insight into the men in the stories.