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387 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1949
It was a sin to think such things, but sometimes, instead of a good king Jesus smiling over them all from somewhere behind the sky, there was a grinning red-eyed devil, hot-breathing and hard as the cracked earth, but cold in his heart as the late frosts of the blighted spring that had taken the apples. And when Milly thought of the devil, she would think of King Devil, who had appeared to her last fall, green-eyed and smiling, and the devil in the sky would without her will, take his face; and day after day in August, while the earth cracks widened and the corn died and even the heat-loving rattlers came down from the dry timbered ridges and made a pestilence along the creeks, dry save for a few scum-covered pools, this King Devil of the sky grinned down on them all
"...This is the strongest contender I have seen for the Pulitzer Prize in fiction. In these pages Harriette Arnow has brought to glowing life a people, a way of life, and a culture. Neither William Faulkner nor Jesse Stuart, I think, has done better and it is my guess that Mrs. Arnow's book will have wider appeal for people everywhere than the books of either." Victor Hass, Saturday Review, 1949
Nunn's obsession with catching the elusive fox killing his livestock undeniably propels the plot, but the influence of the fox on everyone is the true heart of the novel. If we were to examine each character individually and complete the sentence "If not for the fox...", we might come to argue that King Devil is the protagonist of the novel.
She flushed and looked away and saw on Sue Annie's wash bench, packed tightly in the scant space and perspiring from the heat, a row of the neighbor women, school mothers Sue Annie had put near the hearth in a place of honor...Suse studied them, then shivered and looked away; she would never be like that, dull and dead and uncaring; she thought of Milly sleeping at home; she would fit well with the others on the bench. Had she or any of them ever heard the trains blow far away and sad, calling you to come away, calling so clearly you wanted to cry? Or had they ever wanted to run and run through the woods on a windy moonlight night in spite of what God would think and the neighbor's say? How could they sit so quietly now? How?
It was hard enough to be a girl child shut off from the world. How would it be to be a woman like Lureenie, married with little youngens, but wanting still the outside world, tied down to a house and youngens, with one baby in your arms and another big in your belly like Milly--and always the knowing that you could never get away until you were dead?
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled at the hill as the strong smile at the threats of the weak; she wouldn't be like Milly and she wouldn't be like Lureenie; she'd make her own life; it wouldn't make her.