The story of a seven years old farm boy in Arkansas, his parents, his grand parents, some Mexicans and hill people that help them pick their cotton, a murder and a family secret.
I got a little further than the murder and then stopped, because I was bored. The language of the book is very nice. Simple, reminded me a little of Hemingway. The pace of the book is slow and the images that Grisham paints with his writing are pretty strong - I could feel myself sweating in the cotton patch, with my fingers bleeding from the burrs. But the story just did not do very much for me.
Funny sidenote - there is a quote from the Spectator on the back jacket, saying that the "colloquial prose is at times reminiscent of Hemingway". I impressed myself by noticing before reading that quote... There is hope for me yet.
See this same book reviewed by Wyndspirit
