Editorial Content for Soil

Pick up SOIL, Jamie Kornegay’s dark debut novel, and you will realize within perusal of the first couple of pages that you hold something special in your hands. Kornegay is one of those rare authors --- Cormac McCarthy, Larry Brown and Peter Farris immediately come to mind --- who can dig into the nooks and crevices of life that one knows are there but tends to gloss over and ignore, all the while making it look easy, when it most assuredly is not. The account of a gradual descent into the maelstrom of quiet madness, SOIL is the manifestation of such a talent.

The book begins with an account of an act of senseless and unspeakable cruelty that sets up much of what is to come throughout the story, all the way to its seemingly inevitable climax. After a bit of a prelude, we are introduced to Jay Mize, a soil scientist with the Farm Service Agency in rural Mississippi. There is no question that Jay is intellectually brilliant in his field; as often happens, however, the kilowatt of his intellect blinds him to the reality of the world of the here and now. Jay is obsessed with developing a new way of farming, and, in pursuit of this, moves himself and his family, which consists of his wife Sandy, son Jacob and dog Chipper, to a farm in order to bring his experiment to full fruition. The universe, alas, does not cooperate with him, and the family loses practically everything within a year. It also is torn asunder; the scales that result in Sandy’s love-blindness fall from her eyes, and she moves back to town to live first with her father and then in a ramshackle rental, taking Jacob with her.

"On the one hand, you are compelled to keep reading as quickly as possible; on the other, the electric power of the prose requires a breath here, a respite there. The events are tragic and unpleasant, but told well and wonderfully."

Meanwhile, Jay continues to work the unworkable, attracting unwelcome attention as a babbling eccentric from the townsfolk in general and a sheriff’s deputy in particular. The deputy, Danny Shoals, has almost as many loose screws as Jay, though of a different size. He resembles nothing so much as a lion who regards the women --- of all ages --- of the surrounding county as his pride, and while many of them welcome his attention, there are others who do not. Jay attracts Danny’s attention when the county is tasked with investigating the disappearance of an out-of-state visitor. While Jay has nothing to do with the man’s death, he panics when he finds a body on his sizable property and goes to considerable lengths to dispose of it, lest he be blamed for his demise.

Jay’s generally suspicious behavior and demeanor make him look guilty of something --- just not a murder --- but Danny is sure that the man is hiding something. What ultimately attracts Danny is Sandy, who is emotionally and financially adrift and vulnerable. Jay, for his part, is particularly adept at snatching defeat from even the smallest, most inconsequential jaws of victory, and never more so as SOIL comes to its roaring conclusion, which is predictable in some ways yet still unexpected.

Know this: Kornegay’s prose is infused with a nightmarish genius. SOIL is one of those books that almost drags the reader down into the same pit of madness that seizes hold of its characters. On the one hand, you are compelled to keep reading as quickly as possible; on the other, the electric power of the prose requires a breath here, a respite there. The events are tragic and unpleasant, but told well and wonderfully. You may be tempted to turn away from it, but do not leave it or ignore it. And watch for more brilliance from Kornegay, a talent who is sure to be reckoned with.