Woods of longleaf pine and a family in trouble give rise to “The Woodsman’s Daughter.” South Georgia at the end of the 19th century is the starting point for author Gwyn Hyman Rubio, and she spins a tale that follows one young woman along a rocky road from youth to maturity.
Dalia Miller is a spoiled 15-year- old beauty, both victim and perpetrator in a family consumed by poisonous dynamics. Her father, Monroe, married up, and his wife, Violet, can never forgive him for it. She derides her husband, describing him as a man who is both coarse and common. Their daughters see him in the same light.
Monroe readily admits that he is coarse. He is, however, anything but common. His rise from nothing has been fueled by hard work. In the financial upheaval that followed the Civil War, he bought up acres of pine forest from bankrupted planters and built a turpentine business. He drinks as hard as he works, he treats his employees well, and his family lives in a mansion.
Dalia lives a life of ease, spending most of her time with her blind younger sister, Nellie Ann. She assumes that her future will be as sunny, and come as easily, as her past has. She’s spoiled, and possessed of passive-aggressive skills that rival anything in contemporary literature.
Life, of course, is not going to turn out as planned. Revealing the specifics of what lies ahead for Dalia would reveal too much of the plot and spoil the story. Eventually she finds herself on her own in Samson, Ga., looking for the kind of anonymity that only a newcomer to a small town can expect. She has enough money for the near term, but she needs to make a good marriage. Her deep violet eyes, combined with a long-honed scheming nature, help her cause. She makes what should be a good marriage, to the town’s dentist.
It is a marriage as cold as the decision to wed. The necessity of the arrangement doesn’t protect Dalia, and she ends up despising the son that is born as much as she despises his father. But she must make her way, for better or worse, since her alternatives are limited.
There isn’t a lot of drama in “The Woodsman’s Daughter.” It moves more at the pace of life, with some times faster than others. It is, however, wonderfully atmospheric, carrying the reader through the rhythms and mores of the past. Rubio catches the deep quiet of the pine forests, the raw smell of turpentine, and the not-so-quiet discontent of a family that isn’t working. She homes in on life’s small moments that end up making all the difference, both in triumph and tragedy.
She also captures the range of dynamics, the interaction of family and friends in small-town surroundings at the turn of the last century. As Dalia is growing up, the family employs Katie Mae, a former slave, as its cook. In unexpected ways, Katie Mae ends up as the single constant in Dalia’s life, an unexpected source of strength and comfort. Important also are the women Dalia meets when she first moves to Samson. She makes missteps, some of them quite serious, but the bonds of friendship help keep her afloat.
“The Woodsman’s Daughter” is, at its core, an exploration of character. Dalia is formed by the events that rock her world as a teen, and these play out over the rest of her life. She is not the most pleasant or likable character, but she must – as we all must – muddle through the outcomes of her decisions.
If Dalia has some hellish stretches, it is largely because of the choices she has made. In this, Rubio recognizes the most non-Sartre of realities: Perhaps hell isn’t found in other people; it lies in the choices we make for ourselves.
Robin Vidimos is a freelance writer who reviews books for The Denver Post and Buzz in the ‘Burbs.
The Woodsman’s Daughter
By Gwyn Hyman Rubio
Viking, 402 pages, $24.95
