I really expected to like this book. The premise is fantastic; the story begins with a Tlingit shaman, David Livingstone, being hired to ensure that the land around a posh wilderness resort is clear of spirits. The contractor tells him, "We don't want to move ahead and find out later that we have a...uh, you know...a situation." Says David, "A lawsuit-type situation, or The Shining-type situation?" As it turns out, the land is the domain of some particularly dangerous nature spirits, the kushtaka, who are shape-shifters that steal human souls. After a particularly creepy scene, David announces that they'll just have to move their resort elsewhere, but that would be too expensive, so the contractor ignores his warning. Disaster soon strikes, and a little boy from Seattle drowns when his parents visit.
Fast forward two years. The grieving couple, Jenna and Robert, are not doing very well. Their marriage is falling apart, and Jenna is depressed and has struggled with substance abuse. One night, on impulse, she decides to go to Alaska on her own and try to find some closure about her son's death. Then she learns about the kushtaka. Seriously, how could this story not be fantastic?
Well, it wasn't. There were some good scenes--enough that I rated the book two stars instead of one--but for the most part, the story slowly and tediously died beneath the weight of its clunky and cumbersome prose. One mark of good writing is the author's ability to "show, don't tell," but alas, Stein rarely shows (the aforementioned few good scenes are proof that he is capable of better), and instead tells and tells and tells. Not just once or twice, either; this novel is brutally repetitive.
My other main gripe about the writing was how Stein, who seems far more enamored of his characters-- especially the precious Jenna--than I ever was, burdens the narrative with pages and pages of dull backstory and detailed scenes of Jenna doing pretty much nothing. With these removed, the book would be lightened of at least a third of its pages, and far more compelling for it.
This is bad enough at the beginning, causing the novel to bog down before it even has a chance to fly, but it's even worse when it interrupts any sort of suspense once the story's in progress. In one example, Jenna's taking a flight in a small plane to look for the shaman, when we take a page and a half long detour to her first time in a small plane, when she went to St Barth's on vacation. (No, it isn't relevant to the story. At all.) Then she arrives and is asking about the shaman, when we're interrupted once again by two pages where she discusses literature and remembers her old professor--"A friend of Jenna's slept with him. They went to his place and got real drunk and then they did it. She said he sucked in bed. He was constantly giving orders. He wanted this, he wanted that. She said it was boring. She only liked guys who went down on her and stayed down. She got an A, Jenna got a B minus." WTF does that have to do with anything?? It didn't influence her direction in life, the randy prof and the drunken friend don't show up in the denouement, getting that B-minus isn't what made her a drunken pill-popper for several chapters of backstory. It's just random dullness and now I don't care if she ever finds the shaman, either. I don't care if she saves her son's soul from the kushtakas. I don't care if she reconciles with her husband. I just want the random thoughts of Jenna to stop, once and for all.
It's really unfortunate, because with a ruthless editor, this could have been a decent novel. There's a good story buried in there somewhere, and the Tlingit legends and folklore are fascinating.
NOTE: This is a review of the original publication of this book, which I purchased at a used book store. I see that he has released a revised edition, and I don't know how many changes were made.