Black River Orchard by Chuck Wendig, A Tale of a Small Town’s Ugliness
A Horror Book Review by Debra K. Every
The ubiquitous apple. At once, wholesome and at the same time, ominous. ‘The apple of his eye.’ ‘An apple for the teacher.’ ‘An apple a day…’ There’s nothing more virtuous than an apple. Until it isn’t. Ask Eve, ask Sleeping Beauty.
Ask Chuck Wendig
In his Big-Book-of-Apples novel, Black River Orchard (600+ pages), Wendig weaves a sweeping tale of power, hunger, and the ugliness that a small town is capable of embracing—all of it an easy metaphor for the wider world in which we live. He does this with multiple characters, fully formed and distinctive, along with rich, evocative prose that spins a spell so engrossing we don’t realize we’re reading.
Welcome to Harrow, Pennsylvania, a small town in rural Bucks County that is rich with scenic beauty and bucolic charm. Wendig was brave to set his novel in a real town that parallels the history he lays out in his book, right on down to the Lenape Indians. It would be fun to get the local residents’ take on Black River Orchard. But that is an article for another day.
The novel begins with Dan Paxon struggling to keep the farm for which his father had sacrificed his life. With just seven trees in his orchard, he manages to create a new variety of apple—the Ruby Slipper, so named by his daughter, Calla. Its skin is as dark as old blood and its flesh so rich and juicy it can barely be described. But describe it, Wendig does in much the same way one would describe a fine wine. Here is where Wendig’s wordsmithing shines. It is evocative, visceral, designed to have the reader crave a taste:
“Brown sugar and pear. Ginger, followed by a hint of rye. Blush Chablis. A bready lager. A jaw-tightening surge of acidity and a curious bitter pinprick after.”
Some descriptions drip with ominous innuendos.
“…a gentle tug-and-tickle of something crawling on your tongue”
Or:
“ …lights up some long-hidden atavistic artifact in your brain, a part that eons ago took great joy from crushing small bones between your teeth.”
And then, simply, “Tastes like a cloudless autumn day.”
When the apple makes its debut at the local farmers market, Dan sells out. In the ensuing months, he can barely keep up with demand. And to his surprise, the trees continue to bear fruit well into November. As for the apple itself, one bite compels a person to have another. And another. Ailments are healed. Health is restored. Love for the Ruby Slipper spreads throughout the town—
And then Black River Orchard gets ugly.
In reading Black River Orchard, I’m reminded of Stephen King’s, Needful Things. Both show a town in the grip of evil, with its inhabitants twisting into grotesque, violent things, and a puppet master behind the curtain. There are archetypes aplenty.
The Pawn: Dan Paxon, holding onto his family farm with a grip so tight that it blinds him to the consequences of what he has unleased on his small community. His daughter, Calla, is our window into his descent as she watches the father she loves become unrecognizable.
The Investigator: Emily. Struggling in her marriage with her intense lawyer wife, Meg.
The Good Man: John Compass, who has spent his life trying to atone for his past. He’s searching for answers to his friend’s death. This a good man, respectful of his Lenape heritage.
His Nemesis: Edward Naberius a strange, white-clad, grinning devil.
These archetypes are surrounded by a village of onlookers, participants, and victims, each finely drawn and distinctive.
With these elements in place
Wendig magically sustains the suspense throughout his six hundred pages, taking us on a twisted adventure designed to manipulate our senses. His prose, yes, is lush and rich, filled with humor and a deep understanding of the human spirit. But on top of that, he easily dances from psychological horror to bloody violence, to monsters, to the tyranny of the group. And a bonus—I’ve always been a sucker for creative structure in a novel. Here Wendig sprinkles Interludes throughout, all with titles evoking the great moral fables of Aesop. “The Orchard-Keeper’s Tale,” “The Golden Man’s Tale,” “The Farm Cat’s Tale,” “The Despondent Father’s Tale,” “The IRS Man’s Tale” But they’re more than that. They serve as an added layer of suspense—of impending disaster.
In Black River Orchard we see Chuck Wendig at his best—a master weaving a story with complex characters, disturbing images, terror living beside humor, and good old-fashioned story-telling.
Black River Orchard by Chuck Wendig
A small town is transformed by dark magic when strange apple trees begin bearing fruit in this new masterpiece of horror from the bestselling author of Wanderers and The Book of Accidents.
It’s autumn in Harrow, but something is changing in the town besides the season.
Because in that town there is an orchard, and in that orchard grows a new sort of apple: strange and beautiful, with skin so red it’s nearly black.
Take a bite of one of these apples and you will you will become stronger. More vital. More yourself, you will believe. But soon your appetite for the apples and their peculiar gifts will keep growing – and become darker.
This is what happens when the townsfolk discover the secret of the orchard. Soon it seems that everyone is consumed by an obsession with the magic of the apples . . . and what’s the harm, if it is making them all happier, more confident, more powerful?
But now the leaves are falling. The days grow darker. And a stranger has come to town, a stranger who knows Harrow’s secrets. Because it’s harvest time, and the town will soon reap what it has sown.
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