A Minnesota man is shot during a reenactment of a minor
skirmish of the Civil War in the woods of North Mississippi.
Was it an accident? Or was it murder? And was the cop
standing next to him the real target? Those questions send
the former lover of the victim's wife (don't ask) on the
hunt for the murderer, and perhaps a shot at revenge.
SOUTH OF SHILOH is what I classify as a airplane reading --
not high art, but a good way to pass the time when you have
nothing else to do. And in this genre, SOUTH OF SHILOH sits
squarely in the middle of the pack. It's a reasonably well
written suspense novel that keeps the reader engaged and
entertained through to the last page.
That being said, it does have some problems that prevent it
from being great. The author's attempts to make Mississippi
seem exotic and foreign fail just about completely. This
may be because I'm a Southerner by birth, so I'll give the
writer a pass on that one. He does make some grave
mistakes, however, that I just can't let pass. The parts
set in Minnesota are detailed to the point of distraction --
really, you can just say that she drives from one side of
town to the other, you don't have to tell me which
interstate she takes. I really don't care -- if I did, I'd
use Google Maps. (A problem that John Grisham suffers from
as well - some of his books read like a trip guide through
Memphis.)
On the other end of things, he gets some basic things wrong
in the South. I'm fine with portraying every Southerner as
some kind of Confederacy-loving Yankee-hater - Lord knows
there are enough of them, and I'm willing to cut the author
some slack for trying to make Mississippi exotic and
mysterious. But some errors cannot be forgiven, and destroy
a lot of the author's credibility: No self-respecting
Mississippian would offer someone a "soda". It's "coke,"
for the love of God. Getting the details right means the
reader is sucked into the story. Getting them wrong, and
the reader (well, at least this one, who may be a little
sensitive on this subject being married to a North Dakotan)
is never quite able to suspend his disbelief again.
Dedicated devotees of history gather near
Corinth, Mississippi, carrying ancient weapons and dressed
in authentic Civil War uniforms, to refight the Battle of
Kirby Creek. But during the reenactment, a sniper's bullet
rips through an unsuspecting participant . . . and a man who
lived for mock war dies for his obsession.
The fatal shot was intended for Kenny
Beeman—a Mississippi cop standing next to the victim—a grim
discovery that compels the dead man's widow to enlist the
aid of her former lover, news photographer John Rane. Armed
with an accurate Sharps Civil War rifle and live ammunition,
Rane must now join forces with Beeman in a bizarre world of
pretend soldiers. For a modern-day war born of corruption
and greed is about to erupt on hallowed ground—and the
battlefield of Shiloh will run red with blood once again.
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