RUNNING ON MAYBE

In the Mississippi delta in 1916, Lillian Molyneaux awakens in her “barge-like bed” and stumbles to the library in her home to look again at an item in the newspaper lining the birdcage of Opelika, a pet parrot. The article is an account of a badly decomposed body pulled from the river; the remains, Lillian, pieces together, are those of Martha Cutler, the often-beaten wife of Levi Cutler, the business partner of her banker husband, Scanlan. Lillian has been in an alcohol-fueled haze since two of her five children died in the 1913 yellow fever epidemic; Scanlan resorted to sending her to a sanatorium for a time. Now, believing she has spotted the partner’s wife still living, Lillian starts to shake off her stupor. She learns of Scanlan’s venture to buy up land and grow soybeans as a foodstuff (“The King Bean”) that he expects will soon be in demand; he has early word that the United States is about to enter World War I. She questions Scanlan about these activities and reconnects with her living children. Scanlan considers sending Lillian back to the sanatorium (this time allowing its eugenics-focused Dr. Douglas Friendly to perform electroshock-type treatments to make her more amendable). Opelika, who became addicted to poppies and rum following family deaths of her own, is caught up in this intrigue—Friendly is pursuing a project to “wire” parrots’ brains to become wartime messengers. By the novel’s end, a one-two punch of fire and flooding disasters hits the community, after which Lillian and other characters find their lives transformed.  

McGarry has ably crafted an ambitious narrative that crosscuts between flashbacks and Lillian’s present to relay the arcs of an array of characters living in the deeply troubled South just as America enters its first world war; in this regard, this novel is reminiscent of such sweeping historical works of fiction as Ragtime. While the avian musings of Opelika (and, later, the thoughts of Big Sue, a horse that Lillian flees on) initially seem like jarring elements for this genre, these interludes ultimately support the novel’s building theme that even animals are aware of and responsive to the evil actions taking place in this world. The book ultimately takes on an apocalyptic cast—the darkness of the narrative is oppressive at times, including a subplot detailing a stepfather’s rape of his stepdaughter that results in three deaths. The sanatorium’s experiments also seem a bit over the top, although the story includes an effectively chilling coda indicating that its evil doctor is returning to his home country and will play a part in the looming world war to come. Thankfully, the author allows some hope to bloom as Lillian becomes more fully engaged with her previously estranged sister and children, knowing “whatever was coming, they’d get through it.”