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Inland Shores

Inland Shores reader may admire the courage and stam- this collection is strongly negative. The ina of a given character, such as Corine in "Retribution," but even she is so back- remoteness. As a whole, the characters comes from the fact that the stories have woodsy that her wisdom is outdone by her than like neighbors and friends. This flaw seem like specimens in an exhibit rather been printed as a collection. They read better, I think, individually than they do in in the use of Appalachian speech patterns. characterizations and the plots, but also for the strong value orientation revealed in each tale. While the reader may react initially as did Shakespeare ' s Puck: "What fools these mortals be," in the long run that Suotation is changed to the more sympaafter all, that universalizing of experience is what storytelling should be about. -Barbara Smith Patricia Shirley is a fine storyteller, howis well worth reading, not only for the stories, it becomes an obstruction. ever. Each ofthe pieces in Dear FloraMae ietic "What fools we mortals be." And, combination. This is particularly evident A is "stacked up," as it is in thisand when little dialect goes a long way, group of it How like die grey Atlantic these shores swept by storms and winds and crustal waves extruded from the mande's grasp clothed over, anchored in a net of green. Listen closely, hear wind lap reef of grass, forest, meadow, endless quivering leaves and trembling limbs like waves caressing sand. Summer crickets chirp like shore birds, crying on the edge of wave and wind like killdeer, plover, gull. The terrapin drags the yard with ancient armour, creeps toward the creek to sounds of breaking waves within her head. Does she remember that small Isle where sea sent welcome to her scudding young in their fierce seaward path? The terrapin makes the creek, as in another time the sea birds wheel and scream above their rushing prey. How like the grey Atlantic are these shores terrapin and human left to our dreams amidst the bones of ancient pine and fem, leaving but shell or toodi to mark our wake. -Christyna E. Mecca http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

Inland Shores

Mecca, Christyna E.
Appalachian Review , Volume 16 (1) – Jan 8, 1988
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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
1940-5081
Publisher site
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Abstract

reader may admire the courage and stam- this collection is strongly negative. The ina of a given character, such as Corine in "Retribution," but even she is so back- remoteness. As a whole, the characters comes from the fact that the stories have woodsy that her wisdom is outdone by her than like neighbors and friends. This flaw seem like specimens in an exhibit rather been printed as a collection. They read better, I think, individually than they do in in the use of Appalachian speech patterns. characterizations and the plots, but also for the strong value orientation revealed in each tale. While the reader may react initially as did Shakespeare ' s Puck: "What fools these mortals be," in the long run that Suotation is changed to the more sympaafter all, that universalizing of experience is what storytelling should be about. -Barbara Smith Patricia Shirley is a fine storyteller, howis well worth reading, not only for the stories, it becomes an obstruction. ever. Each ofthe pieces in Dear FloraMae ietic "What fools we mortals be." And, combination. This is particularly evident A is "stacked up," as it is in thisand when little dialect goes a long way, group of it How like die grey Atlantic these shores swept by storms and winds and crustal waves extruded from the mande's grasp clothed over, anchored in a net of green. Listen closely, hear wind lap reef of grass, forest, meadow, endless quivering leaves and trembling limbs like waves caressing sand. Summer crickets chirp like shore birds, crying on the edge of wave and wind like killdeer, plover, gull. The terrapin drags the yard with ancient armour, creeps toward the creek to sounds of breaking waves within her head. Does she remember that small Isle where sea sent welcome to her scudding young in their fierce seaward path? The terrapin makes the creek, as in another time the sea birds wheel and scream above their rushing prey. How like the grey Atlantic are these shores terrapin and human left to our dreams amidst the bones of ancient pine and fem, leaving but shell or toodi to mark our wake. -Christyna E. Mecca

Journal

Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 1988

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