ussell Kent arrives one autumn day in the tiny Oregon seacoast town of Evening (Pop. 310) for only the second time in his life. A composer of classical music, Russ is looking for a quiet place to create his latest work: an opera based on Jules Verne's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea . But he has chosen Evening for more than its peaceful ambiance. It was here, on a serendipitous visit en route to another place, that Russ' wife Anna died not long ago, in a fall off the edge of a cliff. Haunted by her death, Russ feels that only by confronting his nightmares at their source can he heal himself.
Russ soon finds quarters in a B&B run by the attractive Megan Sumner, who has lost her own mate, Jack, in a factory accident. (Evening's main claim to fame is its cheese factory, and the town is themed around the food.) Settling in, Russ begins to make some headway with his score, although the libretto, by writer Malcolm Moore, has many problems. In his idle time, Russ wanders around the town, meeting its colorful inhabitants: bookstore owner Bernie Dreerson; elderly amateur archaeologist Tom Carver; the anonymous "Barber-Mayor"; the civic booster Peggy Chalmers; the head of the cheese factory, Bob Burle; Old Crick and Young Crick, the keepers of the empty mansion that once housed the town's deceased founder, Joseph Evening; and others as well.
But gradually it dawns on Russ that the town holds an ancient secret. Two mysterious "dark dwarves" shadow his moves. People seem reticent about certain matters. Dreerson and Carver, rogues in the eyes of the town, and founders of the "Anti-Cheese League," hint at mysteries. Finally, Russ begins to discern the outlines of the town's enigma. Founded by Joseph Evening in the early years of the 20th century after a mystical revelation, the town lies atop a deeply buried treasure of sorts. (More cannot be revealed here without spoiling the suspenseful impact of the novel's gradual revelations.) Over the space of weeks, as he falls in love with Megan, Russ is initiated into the unanimous cabal comprising the whole town, and his professional career appears more and more irrelevant. He seems on the verge of entering fully into the compact when fate intervenes in the form of an accidental physical injury. By the time Russ recovers from a hospital stay and manages to return to Megan's side, events have accelerated beyond any rational control, and Megan's future seems in jeopardy. Only the help of the Anti-Cheese League will allow the lovers to escape the town's cult-like embrace.
A space opera in more ways than one
There is a small contingent of West Coast writers who practice a brand of magical realism or urban fantasy that is simultaneously postmodern and old-fashioned, romantic and hard-edged, full of esoteric lore and sharply observed quotidian details. This group's most famous members are Tim Powers and James Blaylock. (Although not specifically West Coast, two authors less well known to genre fans—Nicholas Christopher and Van Reid—strike similar notes.) All of these authors can trace their roots back to Ray Bradbury, who, when he was not writing about the Midwest or Mars, focused an alternately piercing and romantic eye on his adopted land of California. Now, to this select list can be added the name of David Herter, who, with his second novel, has produced a marvelous fantasy which stands shoulder to shoulder with any of Blaylock's fine meditations on loss and history and the quintessential oddness of life.
Herter does not strike a wrong note (pun fully intentional, concerning as it does this book with a composer at its center) in this novel. His depiction of Russell Kent is deep and affecting. So often, any portrayal of an artist in fiction comes across as false and contrived. But Russell's talents and his struggle with his art is made utterly believable. His grappling with the death of his wife and his new affections for Megan is completely natural as well. Megan is another splendid creation, with her mixed allegiances to the town and its collective mania. As for the large cast of eccentrics, Herter has a ball with them. Despite the seriousness of its themes and events, this novel is full of laughter-provoking absurdity, with some of the biggest chuckles coming from Bob Burle's tendency to sculpt cheese sculptures at the drop of a hat. It's this tragicomic blend that makes Blaylock's books so gripping and believable, and Herter has mastered the tone perfectly.
As for the big secret that underpins the town's existence, Herter spares no effort to link it to real-world cults such as those of Mu and Atlantis and the Hollow Earthers. He fabricates a mythology that rivals anything found on the New Age shelves of your local bookstores, a Fortean mystery that's eerie and creepy. (There are resonances—intentional, I'm sure—with Mormonism as well.) The symbolic linkage with Verne's books also works to reinforce the sense of an Edwardian kookiness that proves all too real. And what's even more amazing is that Herter conveys all this in bits and pieces for nine-tenths of the novel: second-hand accounts, old photos and bones, shards and detritus. Russell—and the reader—never see the buried conundrum firsthand until the final pages of the book, by which time you think that Herter's descriptions could not possibly live up to your expectations—but they do! And the creepy vibe among the transmogrified townspeople that recalls Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1955) is just lagniappe.
With this novel, David Herter has contributed an important tile to the mosaic of American legend.
