Character Structure in A Land More Kind Than Home

Another installment in my series from my graduate work, A Land More Kind Than Home is a difficult book but interesting none-the-less. Set in the South (like most of my graduate work), it reveals a culture that doesn’t really exist anywhere else. Happy Reading!

A Land More Kind Than Home by Wiley Cash has a problematic, character-based structure that makes for a story that is hard to follow. There are three protagonists, and each section focuses on their perspective in the story. The structure is clunky and difficult to follow. 

The chief problem is that while the author does an excellent job of pulling you into the tale with the introduction of Adelaide Lyle in the first section. It’s a compelling tale about a pastor with issues and a mature woman who is trying to keep children safe until she can’t. He does an excellent introduction of the antagonist Carson Chambliss; however, after the first three chapters, things get real muddy quickly. 

We change perspectives to Jess Hall, a local boy, and then we shift perspective again to the local Sheriff, Clem Barefield. Each section focuses on a different character and different perspectives on the story. As a reader, I wondered how Adelaide Lyle fit into the story, and I just wanted to see the book from her perspective. I understand that the writer used this structure to reveal details about the players involved in the story. Facts would be hard to get out from only one perspective, but the story doesn’t become apparent until well into the middle of the book. 

At some points, I was flipping back and forth throughout the book to understand what was going on. I was invested in Adelaide, but then she becomes a minor player throughout the rest of the book. The reader is expected to get invested in Jess Hall, Clem Barefield, and Adelaide Lyle, but only one of them is really compelling. I get the appeal of this structure, but unlike other works where this has worked, it simply falls flat in this book. It’s far too confusing to understand the story, and the characterization gets spread out so much that at some points, a spreadsheet is needed to keep track of them. Does the story need the information about the Sheriff, much less whole sections devoted to his perspective? 

Jess Hall is just a child, and while the death of his brother, which is the main force of the plot, is compelling, his storylines are a bit boring. His perspective on the murder of his brother is just unnecessary. It doesn’t really add anything to the story other than introducing us to the victim’s family. The victim, himself mute (and likely autistic), wouldn’t have much to say but couldn’t we get most of the family details from Adelaide? It was such a disappointment to be so invested in Adelaide Lyle and then to suddenly see her relegated to a secondary character. She doesn’t get her section again until page 175. You have to wade through 150 pages of everything else to get back to the person that brought us into the story and has the best part of the storytelling. The effect on the reader is sheer frustration. 

Overall, this structure, while character-driven, doesn’t work well. It is a lesson in organizing a story and making sure that if you get readers invested in a character, make sure that character appears regularly. For my current project, I want to make sure that the reader always feels anchored in the text and can find people they are invested in and can recognize/identify with throughout the book. Structure and organization are vital to how the story is told, and this book reminded me of how important that is to execute correctly.