THE PALE FLESH OF WOOD

Tucker’s novel, set in mid-20th century Northern California, offers a deeply personal look at a family shaken by tragedy.

The landscape of Lyla Hawkins’ childhood is dominated by two towering figures: her charismatic father and the gigantic oak tree that looms in her grandmother’s backyard. Charles Hawkins is very much the “fun” parent; he’s the one who takes Lyla speeding along the coastline in a convertible with the top down, or who eggs her on to climb along the highest branch in a backyard oak tree to hang a rope swing. However, his mood often teeters on a knife-edge; his experiences in World War II left him prone to uncontrollable bouts of crying and alcohol abuse. When he hangs himself from the aforementioned oak tree,10-year-old Lyla can’t untangle the grief of losing her father from her misplaced guilt: “Was it me?. . .Was it my fault? Because of my swing?” she later asks her mother, who refuses to answer. In the years that follow, she tries to navigate her feelings of loss while also dealing with her complicated relationships with her devastated mother and implacable grandmother. Later, as an adult, she leaves California for a while, ends up with men with whom she unknowingly repeats unhealthy patterns from childhood, but eventually feels called back home. Although Tucker’s novel is told primarily from Lyla’s third-person perspective, the inclusion of other characters’ points of view humanizes figures who might otherwise come across as unfeeling or unknowable, such as Lyla’s mother, Louise. A late-stage reveal of a family secret kept for decades feels more like an afterthought and doesn’t particularly serve the narrative; the plot and themes would have remained intact and affecting without its inclusion. However, the resolution of Lyla’s complicated feelings regarding the oak tree is satisfying and handled with nuance.

A poignant exploration of generational trauma and healing.