This is a fascinating book, especially the title story, which is, oddly, the last in the book and the only one on its topic. I particularly liked that story because it seemed to me to capture the essence of remote Eskimo villages. In particular, it reminded me of the village of Kuskokwim in Alaska where, years ago, I spent some unpleasant but nonetheless interesting time. My village was a Yupik village in Eastern Alaska and Millman’s, apparently, an Inuit village in Greenland, but the place and the atmosphere and the people he describes seem so true to me. The tundra, the mosquitos, the litter, the pervasive beer and company-logo baseball caps, the ancient Eskimos who speak virtually no English, even the ivory-carver could as easily be Alaska as Greenland. Millman captures it well.

And I suppose the same can be said for his other stories, though I find them all a bit obscure. I often feel that his story endings are contrived, or perhaps thought up at the end rather than crafted. For instance, in "The Standing Stone," the penultimate story, there is an unprepared for, unhinted-at connection between the standing stone and the protagonist’s sexual prowess right at the end of the story. I don’t consider that good story-crafting. Unfortunately, many of the stories have such odd, inorganic endings. "Annie Bardwell Gets Back Her Cutlery" is another example. The final incestuous relationship between Annie and her brother is consistent with the view of the backwoods New Englander that Millman propounds throughout the collection, but that relationship between brother and sister is simply slapped on us; it is not foreshadowed, not even hinted at, until it happens. Personally, I don’t think that’s very good craftsmanship.

But, the stories are interesting. Millman has a good eye for cultural detail and language, and is good at characterization. He is given very much to exaggerated detail, as in his characterizing of the ballad singer in "The Pickling of Rewt Chaney," or the entire family in "The 545 Pound Boy," but it is a kind of exaggeration that works, like Impressionist brush-strokes. Great fiction? I think not. But the book is worth reading -- in fact, that last story is worth the price of the book.

The collection’s usefulness to folklorists is marginal at best. Millman does a noteworthy job of using the salient insider details, such as the International Harvester cap in "The Wrong-Handed Man" and the folk motifs of the cobra which escaped from the circus in "The Great Snake Massacre" and the naturally preserved corpse in "The Preserved Woman," but there is nothing in them of particular value to folklorists.

So, overall, I find the collection less than satisfying. I guess I just don’t like Millman’s storytelling technique. But I also think it is worth reading.