ANCESTORS AND OTHERS

From Southern poet/novelist Chappell (Look Back All the Green Valley, 1999, etc.), a richly varied collection of short fiction.

The stories, most of them previously published, range from contemporary to historical and futuristic, from realism through the supernatural to absurdism. What they mostly have in common is their setting in the North Carolina mountains. “Tradition” provides a good example of Chappell’s robust realism, describing a hunting party ruined by a deeply troubled vet. “Duet” is the pitch-perfect tale of Caney and Kermit, two buddies who sang and played guitar together until Caney’s accidental death; it tracks Kermit’s complicated mourning. One of the most resonant pieces has a supernatural edge. “Ember” takes a country-music story line (jealous lover shoots two-timing sweetheart) and raises it to another level, as he meets other men who have also killed her in a grim mountainside purgatory. Hillbilly Gothic best describes “Alma,” in which captive women are herded like cattle. Chappell artfully blends homespun reality with shimmering fantasy in “The Somewhere Doors” (down-at-heels SF writer finds redemption close to home), while “The Three Boxes” is a powerful fable about racial justice. Peering into the future in the title story, Chappell sees Civil War re-enactment running amok; bio-engineered veterans make disastrous houseguests, he reveals. Looking back in “Moments of Light,” he does Haydn proud, sending the composer via a telescope on a revelatory journey through space. Not everything works. “Crèche” is labored whimsy about barnyard animals allowed to talk once a year. “Bon Ton” builds suspense nicely as we wonder what service mysterious Harris T. Bonforth provides the stream of visitors to his room at the Waltmon Inn, but it comes to a picayune end. Similarly, “The Lodger” has an intriguing premise (dead poet manqué attempts to possess a librarian’s mind) but trails off into a swipe at pretentious literary criticism.

A heaped literary plate with something for every taste.