Reviews and Opinions
Below are three reviews written by professional writers, plus another dozen opinions written and posted on Amazon.com by readers of the first edition of my novel, then titled Appalachian Carnival, now re-published in a revised edition, and retitled A Fool Rides the Wheel of Fortune.
Review by Peter Hargitai, June 17, 2016
Poet Laureate of Gulfport FL
Senior Lecturer, Retired
Department of English
Florida International University
Steven Fernand’s first novel recounts the misadventures and life-altering epiphanies of nineteen-year-old Annabelle Cory in her very own quirky dialect. The story is a rite of passage toward her true identity as a capable young woman ready to take on the world without having to append herself to a man. What she discovers about herself on her riding the wheel of fortune is that the sense of empowerment relegated to the male of the species is also her psychic birthright. Or, in the language of Jungians, the male archetype (animus) is already encoded in her psychic genes. Through an alchemy of personal experience and metaphysical aid extracted from a Bearded Lady, a Three-armed Man’s Tarot, and a little LSD, Annabelle Cory is virtually propelled toward each epiphany. Her tale is one of the oldest, the heroine's journey, where ancient knowledge is recharged through the venue of an authentic Appalachian carnival.
The Tarot’s Major Arcana introduce each chapter and inform the archetypes of the major characters. The first section serves as a prologue, appropriately titled “O” and begins with “The Fool,” who is the young and restless Annabelle, smothered by a coal-mining town and an alcoholic mother. She is more than willing to take her chances and run off with the carnies, exchanging coal dust for the midway’s “flickery dust cloud, with whiffs of fried food, hot sugar” and a “muscled feller” by the name of Walt Ritter, hopefully her knight in shining armor. According to the Tarot images reproduced in the book, his card is The Juggler and his number is 1. What follows is a cavalcade of wacky carny folk on a frenetic ride through Clandel, West Virginia, and the steep hills and valleys along US-52 in the spring of 1970.
The entire narrative is written in dialect. The uniqueness of Fernand’s fiction lies in his ability to create a credible narrative voice from the point of view of a distinct female persona and in a dialect that is largely invented. Why the invention, when the region is fertile enough with authentic dialects? To the casual reader, the answer may not be altogether transparent. To mimic what carny lingo must sound like to an outsider like Annabelle, it is important that it not be recognized as indigenous regional dialect or, to put it more simply, as real language spoken anywhere in “West-by-God-Virginia.” Although there may be elements in the narrative and in the dialogue that may arguably sound like language spoken in parts of southwestern West Virginia, or even in small-town northern Georgia, it is infinitely more imaginative, and for the purposes of this novel, more suggestive for the author to defy familiarity by consciously charting a course into the domain of linguistic invention. It is much easier to copy dialect or the mannerisms of a language than to invent them. Works of imaginative literature are rife with invented language ingeniously used for effect; some famous examples range from the whimsical-nonsensical “Jabberwocky” of Lewis Carroll (1871) to the bizarre dystopian lingo of Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange (1962).
Rarely do we encounter pure invention. We can surely guess at the meaning of Carroll’s “galumphing” knight in his awkwardly sluggish stride, because we are familiar with the words “gallop” and “lumpy,” and by blending the two, we succeed in decoding language which may at first seem as an absurd bit of fanciful nonsense. The context also helps to decipher the meaning of uncommon or hybrid constructs. In A Clockwork Orange, Burgess does something in this vein. The genesis of coining his iconic “horrorshow,” can be traced to its Russian homophone “karasho”(‘fine’ or ‘all right’) to suggest through the fusing of “horror” and “fine show” an appreciation of spectacular horror. Fernand’s genius comes from maintaining his invented language, be it constructed from words not in common usage, diction gleaned from remote regional dialects or a mélange of all of the above—and he makes it flow naturally and maintains that flow for nearly 300 pages.
Annabelle Cory is a quick learner; still she has to feel her way around the special language of carnival jargon before she can assimilate it. Essentially, she has to learn a new way of speaking and thinking, and a new way of viewing herself, love, and life. It would be derelict to suggest that in the novel inventive language is limited to carny lingo, when in fact, it is her words that make up, from the first page to the last, the seemingly seamless weave of the narrative. It is her eyes that “sob up a smidgen,” and she is the one who “snuffles and snorts with a clumsy snigger.” It is through her eyes that we see waitresses “arsle” their way from the dining area to the kitchen, or a woman “baring her leg, a knee cocked to show the whole room her shaved satchel,” and her cigar-toting lesbian friend “waggling a few fingers goodbye.” The quirkiest words and turns of phrase as in “sob up,” “snuffles,” “arsle” and “waggling” are not pure inventions, but they are certainly not in common use. They may well be in use, albeit in the rarefied dialect of certain regions, although not all from the same region. But when carny lingo is thrown into the mix full throttle, we get the full effect of Fernand’s style.
In one scene between Annabelle and Walt, she asks him what “a six-cat” is. He explains by piling on more jargon: “It’s a gaffed joint. The Clems throw baseballs at a row of fringy cat dummies. The agent has a gunner to block the cats from fallin’ over when he gaffs the mark.” A few paragraphs down, the cat game, the language game and the game of life all merge into metaphor, and Annabelle is quick on the uptake:
What chance did he have of winning me? Shadow-shy in my own blindness of what to do, was I stringing him along like an agent on the six-cat? Luring him yet into another fat chance, gaffed for my own gain? Then after I’d swapped off his heart for all I could take—or give—will our game get set afire and yanked out of the line-up?
Paragraph upon paragraph, chapter after chapter—without letting up—the style stays in this dialect, flowing so naturally that it never verges on the prosaic or the generic; neither is it formulaic or contrived to sound like something concocted with the aid of a hillbilly lexicon. Annabelle’s voice has personality: it is vivacious, uncommonly vulgar, spunky, raw and colorful—and, above all, true. She can always be counted on to ‘slide,’ ‘sidle,’ ‘saunter,’ and ‘scuff,’ but she categorically refuses to take a single step unless it’s with a strong verb. She can’t just take the stairs (‘treads’). She never laughs, but she ‘sniggers’ plenty.
Annabelle is The Fool in the Tarot. Her search for identity begins with an acute sense of destiny, and requires taking risks, including the biggest risk of all—leaving home for the big top in the hope of finding love and an exciting life. Call it coincidence or “synchronicity,” each character is at the right place at the right time to play a symbolic role in her journey, beginning with the fortune teller who picks out the Wheel of Fortune card whose spokes just happen to look like the rides on the midway. And, of course, The Lovers. Annabelle is meant to encounter and shack up with Walt (The Juggler-Manipulator-Mountebank) who can bamboozle anyone at his counter to take a chance on pitching softballs into a tipped peach basket. She runs the gamut of the usual freak shows (Fire Eater, Fat Lady, Bearded Lady, Sword Swallower, Human Pincushion, Human Blockhead, Human Balloon, Battery Woman, Three-armed Man, and so on). The most important agent of Annabelle’s growth is the Bearded Lady, Iris, (The High Priestess) along with her companion, the Three-armed Man, an odd amalgamation of Shiva, Kali, and a Jungian scholar. Iris teaches her about the great dualities like androgyny, boldly embodied by her own beard and the phallic pet snake in her lap. She has a veritable library in her trailer, and gives Annabelle a booklet she wrote, an abridged version of religious history exposing the shamism of organized religion and extolling pantheistic shamanism and what she calls “The Spirit Within.”
The Three-armed Man also acts as Annabelle’s mentor and delivers one Jungian mini-lecture after another on such abstruse topics as “archetypes,” “ancestral architecture,” and “self-realization.” Then abruptly he shifts into Hinduism and the concept of the perceptive third eye.
Annabelle takes all this in as an affirmation of her new perception, already manifest when she had recently tripped on LSD. It had been during a drug-induced hallucination that she had experienced a mystical vision of her oneness with nature and a validation of her identity. Ironically, as Annabelle finds her spiritual identity, she loses her distinctive earthy dialect, and, for the moment, the language of her altered state is rendered in an altered language at once lyrical and sublime:
The echoing splash of the pour-off beckoned me through the woods as I stepped solemnly toward it—the forest floor spongy and cool. The rush of water, greater after the rain, tumbled down from the laurel hell above, the trace splattering through the jagged and mossy cut, sighing a gossamer mist. As I neared, yesteryear’s leaves grew slimy underfoot, and a chill shivered my spine. So I backed off, and found a dry rock to sit on in a patch of sun.
For an eternity, I gazed at the race of droplets glittering like jewels in the dappled sunlight—its whispery music gaining substance, as if the sound itself thickened. Trees, bushes, and stones glowed deep within.
Annabelle ultimately realizes that Walt, her mountain-man and mountebank, is not her knight in shining armor but an illusion (at one crucial moment he actually cowers under his bed to escape some deputies). Whole and complete, she is a knight unto herself who is more than able to take care of herself, thank you! And if life is a game of chance, she ought to be the one to roll the dice, not her alcoholic mother nor a manipulative boyfriend, not Walt, not any man.
She takes the bus to New York in her quest for a life that can only be hers, the life of a writer who already speaks as many languages as her characters, even the serene language of mystical states. On the page that will always provide her with excitement, she will always be her own handler, director and ringmaster in a much larger carnival called life. We are certain to hear Annabelle’s voice again, or yet another, equally distinctive and colorful voice created by her language magician author, Steven Fernand.
Peter Hargitai
Poet Laureate of Gulfport
Review by Michelle Anne Schingler, in Foreword Reviews, January 2, 2013
“Most people are afraid to take a chance with their lives,” muses Walt Ryder, a carnival operator of unusual magnetism, in the early pages of S.M. Fernand’s debut novel. That sympathetic recognition is part of what draws teenaged Annabelle Cory to him; in larger part, she’s compelled by his believable-enough insistence that she’s the girl of his dreams.
Annabelle’s narration is enlivened by a mixture of colorful, unabashed colloquialisms and phrases she’s gleaned from books. The novel follows her as she abandons the West Virginia coal town of her youth, where, despite her curiosity and beauty, she’s at grave risk of becoming just another sad tale. When Walt offers her a chance to light out with the carnival, she eagerly accepts.
This break with convention is the first of many for Annabelle, who finds herself ravenous for new experiences—any and all which might help her understand who she is, and what life holds for her. The Midway is happy to respond to her hunger. Annabelle finds her soul’s kin amongst the carnies, folks whom the outside world thoughtlessly dismisses as “freaks,” but who in actuality prove to be an enlightened bunch.
Isis, the bearded lady, is there to help with questions of spirituality; Lula, the fat lady, is a willing coach when it comes to love; and Madeline, the daughter of a game operator, has access to drugs. Beyond all of these teachers stands Walt, his presence igniting unfamiliar lust in Annabelle, though the ordinariness of his daily routines confuses her between their salacious encounters.
The glitz and bustle of the Midway contends with the common world surrounding it for Annabelle’s senses, and in the span of one eye-opening week, she comes to see how truly intertwined both arenas are. Or, more accurately, how little each feels like home to her. A bit of genuine monetary luck coupled with real danger is the impetus for one final brave decision from Annabelle in the closing chapters of this fast-moving thrill of a book.
Fernand’s heroine is a character perpetually ready for what’s next in life, and the reader will be dazzled by the chances that she takes. The author’s own experiences behind the scenes of carnival life may be the magic ingredient in these beguiling pages; though the setting will be foreign to most readers, authenticity is never an issue. Sexy, provocative, and entertaining, this dense novel of self-discovery is well worth the price of admission.
Review by Robert Downes, author, editor, and founder of Northern Express,
Traverse City, Michigan, January 7, 2013
“Appalachian Carnival,” the first novel of Benzie County writer Steven Fernand, is a joy to read, not just for its picaresque plot of a 19-year-old adventuress who hooks up with a hillbilly carnival on May Day, 1970, but even more so for the flavor of its language.
Corn-pone humor fried black & crispy underlies a book filled with vivid scenes of the carny life and its clientele of deadenders, layabouts and lowlifes. The book has a ‘voice’ that captures the rural life and its crusty outlook as thoroughly as rolling in a burr patch. Like diamonds studding the walls of a coal mine of black humor, the book offers jewels of folk wisdom and dead-reckoned dialogue.
Add to that mix the ancient wisdom of the 22 Major Arcana of the Tarot card deck. Annabelle Cory of Clandel, “West-by-God-Virginia,” is shaken to learn that the cards have uncanny things to say about her after a reading by a three-armed man at the carnival. A flirtation with a carny named Walt Ryder leads to dinner and a night in bed, after which Annabelle decides to ditch her coal-town life for an adventure on the road with McCain’s Magic Midway.
What seems astonishing as the pages turn, immersing you deeper in the coal slag of Appalachian life with its mountain dialect and carny jargon, is that author Fernand is able to so completely take you there.
ROOTS
Born in 1949 in a French-Canadian family, Fernand grew up in central Massachusetts and dabbled in psychedelics, photography, singer-songwriting, a binge reading habit and vagabond travel before finding his niche as a sandal maker on St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands in the late ‘70s. He ran sandal shops in Lake Worth, Florida and in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, where he began creating his own line of custom shoes.
Fernand and his family settled in Benzonia in the early ‘80s, where he ran Fernand’s Footwear until selling the business in 2006. He was also one of the founders of the popular Benzie Playboyz band, playing Cajun tunes and singing in French.
Fernand had conceived of “Appalachian Carnival” as far back as 1980 and his retirement from the shoe business gave him the freedom to return to a youthful desire to write. He studied numerous “how to write” books and dug in, writing 1,000 words a day during a sojourn to the south of France. He went on to finish the first draft of his book in Northhampton, Mass, over a five-month period. Thereafter came “a dozen rewrites.”
The following is a phone interview with Fernand from his winter home in St. Petersburg, Florida:
NE: What inspired you to write this particular story? It’s such a departure from life in Northern Michigan.
Fernand: I ran with carnivals in my early 20s. I was a musician back then and would travel from one city to the next performing, and would go broke doing that. The way I’d fund myself was hooking up with carnivals and running the games. I was with these shows in the early ‘70s.
So I wanted to do a social expose of what carnivals are really like because there’s a lot of really bad books out there on carnivals and what their people are like, often confounded with writing about the circus life. I found that West Virginia had always been an interesting place, and the idea just percolated inside of me for a couple of years until I finally went at it.
NE: Why do you have the Tarot in the book?
Fernand: I used it as an outline with the archetypical symbols of the Tarot in a Jungian way. The Fool (Annabelle) meets the Magician (Walt) and the story proceeds through the characters represented by the cards of the Tarot. In the next chapter we meet the Priestess, then the Emperor and the Empress. So each chapter, as well as a being a narrative of the week, contains these archetypical personages.
NE: That’s a novel way of dovetailing with the West Virginia story, taking the ancient wisdom of the Tarot and applying it to such an obscure place in America.
Fernand: Well, carnivals and gypsies have always been equated with Tarot cards, so that’s another hook.
NE: I was struck by how authentic the language seems in your book. How did you capture the carnival jargon and Southern attitude?
Fernand: I’m a Yankee from Massachusetts, but I’ve been in the South and I like talking like that, because it’s fun. But as far as the carny words, I know those because I was there; and as far as the West Virginia words, I have a lexicon called “Mountain Range,” which is sort of a hillbilly dictionary. And I used that book quite a bit to pepper Annabelle’s language. Maybe even too much -- I backed it off a little in one of the drafts. I went through six drafts, so there was a lot of rewriting. I like rewriting almost better than I do writing fiction. I don’t know if (the language) would work with an actual West Virginian, but I like the way Huck Finn talks, and that sort of personal, provincial tale. I think it lends credence to the story and the personality of the narrator.
NE: Was it hard getting your book in print?
Fernand: I self-published it. I had an agent last year. I sent a lot of queries to book agents -- 99 of them in fact -- before finding one. Most of the agents said no thanks -- the word count is too long, because for a first-time writer, the publishing industry wants to see from 70,000-90,000 words in a first-time novel. Their algorithm of what’s going to make them some money includes half of the paper in the book and half of the editing. So the agent, after submitting it to the publishing industry in New York, said that if I’d cut the manuscript to 110,000 words they’d take a look at it. And I really didn’t want to chop a third out of it, so I just published it myself through Amazon CreateSpace. You just download the file and publish your book yourself. It’s pretty easy to publish a book these days; what’s not easy is national distribution.
NE: So, what next?
Fernand: Time is short, so I just wanted to get the book out there, get some good reviews, and maybe someone (a major publisher) will pick up the second edition if people start to like it. And I’ve been getting good reports -- a lot of people say they like the book.
Amazon.com Reader's Reviews:
Wendy, March 21, 2013
Could not put down
There are few books even though I am a book a day reader that I own just to read over and over. This is one of those books that I am glad to own on my kindle. Definitely a story worth reading over. If you enjoyed Water for Elephants read this book. The ending was worth the wait and totally unexpected. I seriously stayed up all night to finish it.
Kathaleen, January 7, 2013:
I'd say:
Keep searching for your deeper unbounded self and ask if you are being true-to-that-self. Imagine a vivid, partly bizarre, and masterfully defined background of carnival life in the Appalachians, and add to that an engaging, semi-romantic, sexy partner. Speak your own original mix of home-grown, schooled, and hillbillyish language, and I'd say you are close to vicariously experiencing the "Appalachian Carnival".
Mellissa, August 2, 2013:
Thanks for the ride
Loved it! In fact, in our book club of 10 people - everyone did. The book was recommended to me by a relative living in Michigan and I picked it for our club read and was glad I did. I'm not particularly a risk taker but have tested some waters from a curious thinking position in my formative years, so I could relate to it. I thought the male author did a great job of defining the world from a woman's viewpoint! Lots of the descriptions of people and places were so engaging I could really picture them and feel I was there. I loved the bits of random life wisdom too and found myself marking the book up with a pencil and dog-earing the corners - which I have not done before or since. Thanks to the author.
-Z-, December 5, 2012
Transporting!,
I was listening to this author playing guitar and noticed books in his guitar case. Just out of curiosity I read the first paragraph and was hooked. Something about the color in his words and the in-character language kept me moving forward. The moments unfold effortlessly...naturally...like you are tagging along. Still reading it at the moment but it has been a pleasure so far. I would like to see the cover design better reflect the depth of the contents, though...people do tend to judge a book by its cover. Thanks, Mr. Fernand!
Susan, September 13, 2013
Delighted with the Carnival Ride
Just finished Appalachian Carnival- and I found it delightful!
I felt I had a personal view into the heart of Annabelle Cory.
But more significant I was transported to a place I didn't even know existed - thank you Steve.
I found myself speaking in the language of "mountain dialect" to my friends, or at least in my head
I was impressed that the dialect continued throughout the entire book. That was a lot of fun.
Once again- thank you Steve Fernand for writing this book!
Kirby, August 2, 2013
fabulous first novel
Enjoyed this book from the first word. It follows characters that I've haven't ever seen before in print. So many books about characters in New York or L. A., right? These characters feel real, feel American deep down inside. For a first novel, wow. For Mr. Fernand to write with the voice of a young woman and do so so convincingly just blows me away.
J.W., April 13, 2013
Could not put down
This is one of those rare books that gets you hooked from the first page and keeps you on a ride the whole way through. It is a keeper that is full of color and hidden jewels of wisdom. Loved it!
Mark, January 27, 2013
Wanderlust...,
A super read....wish I had the courage to join a carnival ..maybe it's not too late...or maybe it's not time yet..
Angela, October 24, 2012
Michigan writer gives us a love story and much more...
Each night I picked up "Appalachian Carnival" I was
taken into a world I preferred. Fernand is a master weaver
of story. I recommend this title for its sincerity, refreshing
sense of hope, and finely honed characters. I can honestly
say I didn't want it to end when I got to the last page.
Laughing Raccoon, June 26, 2013
Shame on you
I would have given this book zero stars if I could. I am a lifelong West Virginian, who grew up near Rt 52 and McDowell County. I'm next door in Mercer County. I am struggling to read this book, but I have my doubts I will make it. It is painfully obvious that a West Virginian didn't write this book. I signed up to read 150 books in honor of West Virginia's 150th birthday. This will be book 112.....if I can slog through the rest of it, which I doubt. I have tried to include books set in and around West Virginia. I was thrilled to find this one, but it is yet another stereotypical caricature of the people in McDowell. Shame on you. West Virginians aren't like the portrayal in this book. Oh, and I grew up during the 70's and we weren't like that then, either. You should truly be ashamed of yourself. Since you are from Michigan, I suggest you rewrite it and set it there. Oh, you say people from Michigan aren't like that......well guess what, neither are West Virginians. Montani Semper Liberi.
Dianna, June 29, 2013
Really? Appalachian carnival
Being a West Virginia girl from a small coal mining camp, I was irritated at the use of "hillbilly" phrases that I have never used or heard used, especially in the 1970's. I read 3 or 4 pages and decided that I would never read this book. Once again, someone's attempt at humor was not funny, in fact,I felt offended. Sorry, not a good book. Maybe I am just too stupid to understand it, I am from from Oceana, West Virginia,(Wyoming county) you know. Too bad there Isn't a minus star option. Colorful and refreshing are not the words I would use to describe this "book". I would use insulting and offensive. If you decide to read this book, remember that it is purely fictional, the place described in this book does not exist.
Gary, November 12, 2013
West Virginians, Get over yourselves. Great book.
The author is a friend of mine. When I read the book, I was expecting to have to offer polite encouragement: "Yeah, Steve, that was pretty good . . .". Instead, the book was a can't-put-it-down kind of read. The development that grabbed me was how the bizareness of the carnie freaks really came through early, while later in the book they were fonts of wisdom and you no longer noticed their "differenceness." Characters were colorful, genuine and warm, and development unfolded in natural and sometimes surprising ways.
This book might qualify as a chick-book (most of my women friends loved it). Good thing that I love literature that features the development of a strong woman ("The Dive from Clausen's Pier"). The ending was innovative and avoided the usual cliches.
As to the West Virginians that are offended by the dialect - granted, it is a little corny. But get over yourselves. This is a work of fiction, and the language works well with the characters. The author's personal history as a carnival worker comes through in the language and attitudes portrayed.
There is a book called "Have No Shame" by Melissa Foster. It portrays southern dialect and accents. In its Kindl version, you can choose to read it in its original form, or in a "cleaned up" straighter sort of English. I find it a shame that we are so sensitive about cultural portrayal that we might choose the white bread version over something more colorful and authentic. This story would work well in a more generic cleaned-up version because it's simply a good story. But the colorful words and phrases engaged and challenged me, even when I sometimes found them a little jarring and perplexing. I didn't read the book with the idea that this is the way people in West Virginia talk today. So what?
Review by Peter Hargitai, June 17, 2016
Poet Laureate of Gulfport FL
Senior Lecturer, Retired
Department of English
Florida International University
Steven Fernand’s first novel recounts the misadventures and life-altering epiphanies of nineteen-year-old Annabelle Cory in her very own quirky dialect. The story is a rite of passage toward her true identity as a capable young woman ready to take on the world without having to append herself to a man. What she discovers about herself on her riding the wheel of fortune is that the sense of empowerment relegated to the male of the species is also her psychic birthright. Or, in the language of Jungians, the male archetype (animus) is already encoded in her psychic genes. Through an alchemy of personal experience and metaphysical aid extracted from a Bearded Lady, a Three-armed Man’s Tarot, and a little LSD, Annabelle Cory is virtually propelled toward each epiphany. Her tale is one of the oldest, the heroine's journey, where ancient knowledge is recharged through the venue of an authentic Appalachian carnival.
The Tarot’s Major Arcana introduce each chapter and inform the archetypes of the major characters. The first section serves as a prologue, appropriately titled “O” and begins with “The Fool,” who is the young and restless Annabelle, smothered by a coal-mining town and an alcoholic mother. She is more than willing to take her chances and run off with the carnies, exchanging coal dust for the midway’s “flickery dust cloud, with whiffs of fried food, hot sugar” and a “muscled feller” by the name of Walt Ritter, hopefully her knight in shining armor. According to the Tarot images reproduced in the book, his card is The Juggler and his number is 1. What follows is a cavalcade of wacky carny folk on a frenetic ride through Clandel, West Virginia, and the steep hills and valleys along US-52 in the spring of 1970.
The entire narrative is written in dialect. The uniqueness of Fernand’s fiction lies in his ability to create a credible narrative voice from the point of view of a distinct female persona and in a dialect that is largely invented. Why the invention, when the region is fertile enough with authentic dialects? To the casual reader, the answer may not be altogether transparent. To mimic what carny lingo must sound like to an outsider like Annabelle, it is important that it not be recognized as indigenous regional dialect or, to put it more simply, as real language spoken anywhere in “West-by-God-Virginia.” Although there may be elements in the narrative and in the dialogue that may arguably sound like language spoken in parts of southwestern West Virginia, or even in small-town northern Georgia, it is infinitely more imaginative, and for the purposes of this novel, more suggestive for the author to defy familiarity by consciously charting a course into the domain of linguistic invention. It is much easier to copy dialect or the mannerisms of a language than to invent them. Works of imaginative literature are rife with invented language ingeniously used for effect; some famous examples range from the whimsical-nonsensical “Jabberwocky” of Lewis Carroll (1871) to the bizarre dystopian lingo of Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange (1962).
Rarely do we encounter pure invention. We can surely guess at the meaning of Carroll’s “galumphing” knight in his awkwardly sluggish stride, because we are familiar with the words “gallop” and “lumpy,” and by blending the two, we succeed in decoding language which may at first seem as an absurd bit of fanciful nonsense. The context also helps to decipher the meaning of uncommon or hybrid constructs. In A Clockwork Orange, Burgess does something in this vein. The genesis of coining his iconic “horrorshow,” can be traced to its Russian homophone “karasho”(‘fine’ or ‘all right’) to suggest through the fusing of “horror” and “fine show” an appreciation of spectacular horror. Fernand’s genius comes from maintaining his invented language, be it constructed from words not in common usage, diction gleaned from remote regional dialects or a mélange of all of the above—and he makes it flow naturally and maintains that flow for nearly 300 pages.
Annabelle Cory is a quick learner; still she has to feel her way around the special language of carnival jargon before she can assimilate it. Essentially, she has to learn a new way of speaking and thinking, and a new way of viewing herself, love, and life. It would be derelict to suggest that in the novel inventive language is limited to carny lingo, when in fact, it is her words that make up, from the first page to the last, the seemingly seamless weave of the narrative. It is her eyes that “sob up a smidgen,” and she is the one who “snuffles and snorts with a clumsy snigger.” It is through her eyes that we see waitresses “arsle” their way from the dining area to the kitchen, or a woman “baring her leg, a knee cocked to show the whole room her shaved satchel,” and her cigar-toting lesbian friend “waggling a few fingers goodbye.” The quirkiest words and turns of phrase as in “sob up,” “snuffles,” “arsle” and “waggling” are not pure inventions, but they are certainly not in common use. They may well be in use, albeit in the rarefied dialect of certain regions, although not all from the same region. But when carny lingo is thrown into the mix full throttle, we get the full effect of Fernand’s style.
In one scene between Annabelle and Walt, she asks him what “a six-cat” is. He explains by piling on more jargon: “It’s a gaffed joint. The Clems throw baseballs at a row of fringy cat dummies. The agent has a gunner to block the cats from fallin’ over when he gaffs the mark.” A few paragraphs down, the cat game, the language game and the game of life all merge into metaphor, and Annabelle is quick on the uptake:
What chance did he have of winning me? Shadow-shy in my own blindness of what to do, was I stringing him along like an agent on the six-cat? Luring him yet into another fat chance, gaffed for my own gain? Then after I’d swapped off his heart for all I could take—or give—will our game get set afire and yanked out of the line-up?
Paragraph upon paragraph, chapter after chapter—without letting up—the style stays in this dialect, flowing so naturally that it never verges on the prosaic or the generic; neither is it formulaic or contrived to sound like something concocted with the aid of a hillbilly lexicon. Annabelle’s voice has personality: it is vivacious, uncommonly vulgar, spunky, raw and colorful—and, above all, true. She can always be counted on to ‘slide,’ ‘sidle,’ ‘saunter,’ and ‘scuff,’ but she categorically refuses to take a single step unless it’s with a strong verb. She can’t just take the stairs (‘treads’). She never laughs, but she ‘sniggers’ plenty.
Annabelle is The Fool in the Tarot. Her search for identity begins with an acute sense of destiny, and requires taking risks, including the biggest risk of all—leaving home for the big top in the hope of finding love and an exciting life. Call it coincidence or “synchronicity,” each character is at the right place at the right time to play a symbolic role in her journey, beginning with the fortune teller who picks out the Wheel of Fortune card whose spokes just happen to look like the rides on the midway. And, of course, The Lovers. Annabelle is meant to encounter and shack up with Walt (The Juggler-Manipulator-Mountebank) who can bamboozle anyone at his counter to take a chance on pitching softballs into a tipped peach basket. She runs the gamut of the usual freak shows (Fire Eater, Fat Lady, Bearded Lady, Sword Swallower, Human Pincushion, Human Blockhead, Human Balloon, Battery Woman, Three-armed Man, and so on). The most important agent of Annabelle’s growth is the Bearded Lady, Iris, (The High Priestess) along with her companion, the Three-armed Man, an odd amalgamation of Shiva, Kali, and a Jungian scholar. Iris teaches her about the great dualities like androgyny, boldly embodied by her own beard and the phallic pet snake in her lap. She has a veritable library in her trailer, and gives Annabelle a booklet she wrote, an abridged version of religious history exposing the shamism of organized religion and extolling pantheistic shamanism and what she calls “The Spirit Within.”
The Three-armed Man also acts as Annabelle’s mentor and delivers one Jungian mini-lecture after another on such abstruse topics as “archetypes,” “ancestral architecture,” and “self-realization.” Then abruptly he shifts into Hinduism and the concept of the perceptive third eye.
Annabelle takes all this in as an affirmation of her new perception, already manifest when she had recently tripped on LSD. It had been during a drug-induced hallucination that she had experienced a mystical vision of her oneness with nature and a validation of her identity. Ironically, as Annabelle finds her spiritual identity, she loses her distinctive earthy dialect, and, for the moment, the language of her altered state is rendered in an altered language at once lyrical and sublime:
The echoing splash of the pour-off beckoned me through the woods as I stepped solemnly toward it—the forest floor spongy and cool. The rush of water, greater after the rain, tumbled down from the laurel hell above, the trace splattering through the jagged and mossy cut, sighing a gossamer mist. As I neared, yesteryear’s leaves grew slimy underfoot, and a chill shivered my spine. So I backed off, and found a dry rock to sit on in a patch of sun.
For an eternity, I gazed at the race of droplets glittering like jewels in the dappled sunlight—its whispery music gaining substance, as if the sound itself thickened. Trees, bushes, and stones glowed deep within.
Annabelle ultimately realizes that Walt, her mountain-man and mountebank, is not her knight in shining armor but an illusion (at one crucial moment he actually cowers under his bed to escape some deputies). Whole and complete, she is a knight unto herself who is more than able to take care of herself, thank you! And if life is a game of chance, she ought to be the one to roll the dice, not her alcoholic mother nor a manipulative boyfriend, not Walt, not any man.
She takes the bus to New York in her quest for a life that can only be hers, the life of a writer who already speaks as many languages as her characters, even the serene language of mystical states. On the page that will always provide her with excitement, she will always be her own handler, director and ringmaster in a much larger carnival called life. We are certain to hear Annabelle’s voice again, or yet another, equally distinctive and colorful voice created by her language magician author, Steven Fernand.
Peter Hargitai
Poet Laureate of Gulfport
Review by Michelle Anne Schingler, in Foreword Reviews, January 2, 2013
“Most people are afraid to take a chance with their lives,” muses Walt Ryder, a carnival operator of unusual magnetism, in the early pages of S.M. Fernand’s debut novel. That sympathetic recognition is part of what draws teenaged Annabelle Cory to him; in larger part, she’s compelled by his believable-enough insistence that she’s the girl of his dreams.
Annabelle’s narration is enlivened by a mixture of colorful, unabashed colloquialisms and phrases she’s gleaned from books. The novel follows her as she abandons the West Virginia coal town of her youth, where, despite her curiosity and beauty, she’s at grave risk of becoming just another sad tale. When Walt offers her a chance to light out with the carnival, she eagerly accepts.
This break with convention is the first of many for Annabelle, who finds herself ravenous for new experiences—any and all which might help her understand who she is, and what life holds for her. The Midway is happy to respond to her hunger. Annabelle finds her soul’s kin amongst the carnies, folks whom the outside world thoughtlessly dismisses as “freaks,” but who in actuality prove to be an enlightened bunch.
Isis, the bearded lady, is there to help with questions of spirituality; Lula, the fat lady, is a willing coach when it comes to love; and Madeline, the daughter of a game operator, has access to drugs. Beyond all of these teachers stands Walt, his presence igniting unfamiliar lust in Annabelle, though the ordinariness of his daily routines confuses her between their salacious encounters.
The glitz and bustle of the Midway contends with the common world surrounding it for Annabelle’s senses, and in the span of one eye-opening week, she comes to see how truly intertwined both arenas are. Or, more accurately, how little each feels like home to her. A bit of genuine monetary luck coupled with real danger is the impetus for one final brave decision from Annabelle in the closing chapters of this fast-moving thrill of a book.
Fernand’s heroine is a character perpetually ready for what’s next in life, and the reader will be dazzled by the chances that she takes. The author’s own experiences behind the scenes of carnival life may be the magic ingredient in these beguiling pages; though the setting will be foreign to most readers, authenticity is never an issue. Sexy, provocative, and entertaining, this dense novel of self-discovery is well worth the price of admission.
Review by Robert Downes, author, editor, and founder of Northern Express,
Traverse City, Michigan, January 7, 2013
“Appalachian Carnival,” the first novel of Benzie County writer Steven Fernand, is a joy to read, not just for its picaresque plot of a 19-year-old adventuress who hooks up with a hillbilly carnival on May Day, 1970, but even more so for the flavor of its language.
Corn-pone humor fried black & crispy underlies a book filled with vivid scenes of the carny life and its clientele of deadenders, layabouts and lowlifes. The book has a ‘voice’ that captures the rural life and its crusty outlook as thoroughly as rolling in a burr patch. Like diamonds studding the walls of a coal mine of black humor, the book offers jewels of folk wisdom and dead-reckoned dialogue.
Add to that mix the ancient wisdom of the 22 Major Arcana of the Tarot card deck. Annabelle Cory of Clandel, “West-by-God-Virginia,” is shaken to learn that the cards have uncanny things to say about her after a reading by a three-armed man at the carnival. A flirtation with a carny named Walt Ryder leads to dinner and a night in bed, after which Annabelle decides to ditch her coal-town life for an adventure on the road with McCain’s Magic Midway.
What seems astonishing as the pages turn, immersing you deeper in the coal slag of Appalachian life with its mountain dialect and carny jargon, is that author Fernand is able to so completely take you there.
ROOTS
Born in 1949 in a French-Canadian family, Fernand grew up in central Massachusetts and dabbled in psychedelics, photography, singer-songwriting, a binge reading habit and vagabond travel before finding his niche as a sandal maker on St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands in the late ‘70s. He ran sandal shops in Lake Worth, Florida and in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, where he began creating his own line of custom shoes.
Fernand and his family settled in Benzonia in the early ‘80s, where he ran Fernand’s Footwear until selling the business in 2006. He was also one of the founders of the popular Benzie Playboyz band, playing Cajun tunes and singing in French.
Fernand had conceived of “Appalachian Carnival” as far back as 1980 and his retirement from the shoe business gave him the freedom to return to a youthful desire to write. He studied numerous “how to write” books and dug in, writing 1,000 words a day during a sojourn to the south of France. He went on to finish the first draft of his book in Northhampton, Mass, over a five-month period. Thereafter came “a dozen rewrites.”
The following is a phone interview with Fernand from his winter home in St. Petersburg, Florida:
NE: What inspired you to write this particular story? It’s such a departure from life in Northern Michigan.
Fernand: I ran with carnivals in my early 20s. I was a musician back then and would travel from one city to the next performing, and would go broke doing that. The way I’d fund myself was hooking up with carnivals and running the games. I was with these shows in the early ‘70s.
So I wanted to do a social expose of what carnivals are really like because there’s a lot of really bad books out there on carnivals and what their people are like, often confounded with writing about the circus life. I found that West Virginia had always been an interesting place, and the idea just percolated inside of me for a couple of years until I finally went at it.
NE: Why do you have the Tarot in the book?
Fernand: I used it as an outline with the archetypical symbols of the Tarot in a Jungian way. The Fool (Annabelle) meets the Magician (Walt) and the story proceeds through the characters represented by the cards of the Tarot. In the next chapter we meet the Priestess, then the Emperor and the Empress. So each chapter, as well as a being a narrative of the week, contains these archetypical personages.
NE: That’s a novel way of dovetailing with the West Virginia story, taking the ancient wisdom of the Tarot and applying it to such an obscure place in America.
Fernand: Well, carnivals and gypsies have always been equated with Tarot cards, so that’s another hook.
NE: I was struck by how authentic the language seems in your book. How did you capture the carnival jargon and Southern attitude?
Fernand: I’m a Yankee from Massachusetts, but I’ve been in the South and I like talking like that, because it’s fun. But as far as the carny words, I know those because I was there; and as far as the West Virginia words, I have a lexicon called “Mountain Range,” which is sort of a hillbilly dictionary. And I used that book quite a bit to pepper Annabelle’s language. Maybe even too much -- I backed it off a little in one of the drafts. I went through six drafts, so there was a lot of rewriting. I like rewriting almost better than I do writing fiction. I don’t know if (the language) would work with an actual West Virginian, but I like the way Huck Finn talks, and that sort of personal, provincial tale. I think it lends credence to the story and the personality of the narrator.
NE: Was it hard getting your book in print?
Fernand: I self-published it. I had an agent last year. I sent a lot of queries to book agents -- 99 of them in fact -- before finding one. Most of the agents said no thanks -- the word count is too long, because for a first-time writer, the publishing industry wants to see from 70,000-90,000 words in a first-time novel. Their algorithm of what’s going to make them some money includes half of the paper in the book and half of the editing. So the agent, after submitting it to the publishing industry in New York, said that if I’d cut the manuscript to 110,000 words they’d take a look at it. And I really didn’t want to chop a third out of it, so I just published it myself through Amazon CreateSpace. You just download the file and publish your book yourself. It’s pretty easy to publish a book these days; what’s not easy is national distribution.
NE: So, what next?
Fernand: Time is short, so I just wanted to get the book out there, get some good reviews, and maybe someone (a major publisher) will pick up the second edition if people start to like it. And I’ve been getting good reports -- a lot of people say they like the book.
Amazon.com Reader's Reviews:
Wendy, March 21, 2013
Could not put down
There are few books even though I am a book a day reader that I own just to read over and over. This is one of those books that I am glad to own on my kindle. Definitely a story worth reading over. If you enjoyed Water for Elephants read this book. The ending was worth the wait and totally unexpected. I seriously stayed up all night to finish it.
Kathaleen, January 7, 2013:
I'd say:
Keep searching for your deeper unbounded self and ask if you are being true-to-that-self. Imagine a vivid, partly bizarre, and masterfully defined background of carnival life in the Appalachians, and add to that an engaging, semi-romantic, sexy partner. Speak your own original mix of home-grown, schooled, and hillbillyish language, and I'd say you are close to vicariously experiencing the "Appalachian Carnival".
Mellissa, August 2, 2013:
Thanks for the ride
Loved it! In fact, in our book club of 10 people - everyone did. The book was recommended to me by a relative living in Michigan and I picked it for our club read and was glad I did. I'm not particularly a risk taker but have tested some waters from a curious thinking position in my formative years, so I could relate to it. I thought the male author did a great job of defining the world from a woman's viewpoint! Lots of the descriptions of people and places were so engaging I could really picture them and feel I was there. I loved the bits of random life wisdom too and found myself marking the book up with a pencil and dog-earing the corners - which I have not done before or since. Thanks to the author.
-Z-, December 5, 2012
Transporting!,
I was listening to this author playing guitar and noticed books in his guitar case. Just out of curiosity I read the first paragraph and was hooked. Something about the color in his words and the in-character language kept me moving forward. The moments unfold effortlessly...naturally...like you are tagging along. Still reading it at the moment but it has been a pleasure so far. I would like to see the cover design better reflect the depth of the contents, though...people do tend to judge a book by its cover. Thanks, Mr. Fernand!
Susan, September 13, 2013
Delighted with the Carnival Ride
Just finished Appalachian Carnival- and I found it delightful!
I felt I had a personal view into the heart of Annabelle Cory.
But more significant I was transported to a place I didn't even know existed - thank you Steve.
I found myself speaking in the language of "mountain dialect" to my friends, or at least in my head
I was impressed that the dialect continued throughout the entire book. That was a lot of fun.
Once again- thank you Steve Fernand for writing this book!
Kirby, August 2, 2013
fabulous first novel
Enjoyed this book from the first word. It follows characters that I've haven't ever seen before in print. So many books about characters in New York or L. A., right? These characters feel real, feel American deep down inside. For a first novel, wow. For Mr. Fernand to write with the voice of a young woman and do so so convincingly just blows me away.
J.W., April 13, 2013
Could not put down
This is one of those rare books that gets you hooked from the first page and keeps you on a ride the whole way through. It is a keeper that is full of color and hidden jewels of wisdom. Loved it!
Mark, January 27, 2013
Wanderlust...,
A super read....wish I had the courage to join a carnival ..maybe it's not too late...or maybe it's not time yet..
Angela, October 24, 2012
Michigan writer gives us a love story and much more...
Each night I picked up "Appalachian Carnival" I was
taken into a world I preferred. Fernand is a master weaver
of story. I recommend this title for its sincerity, refreshing
sense of hope, and finely honed characters. I can honestly
say I didn't want it to end when I got to the last page.
Laughing Raccoon, June 26, 2013
Shame on you
I would have given this book zero stars if I could. I am a lifelong West Virginian, who grew up near Rt 52 and McDowell County. I'm next door in Mercer County. I am struggling to read this book, but I have my doubts I will make it. It is painfully obvious that a West Virginian didn't write this book. I signed up to read 150 books in honor of West Virginia's 150th birthday. This will be book 112.....if I can slog through the rest of it, which I doubt. I have tried to include books set in and around West Virginia. I was thrilled to find this one, but it is yet another stereotypical caricature of the people in McDowell. Shame on you. West Virginians aren't like the portrayal in this book. Oh, and I grew up during the 70's and we weren't like that then, either. You should truly be ashamed of yourself. Since you are from Michigan, I suggest you rewrite it and set it there. Oh, you say people from Michigan aren't like that......well guess what, neither are West Virginians. Montani Semper Liberi.
Dianna, June 29, 2013
Really? Appalachian carnival
Being a West Virginia girl from a small coal mining camp, I was irritated at the use of "hillbilly" phrases that I have never used or heard used, especially in the 1970's. I read 3 or 4 pages and decided that I would never read this book. Once again, someone's attempt at humor was not funny, in fact,I felt offended. Sorry, not a good book. Maybe I am just too stupid to understand it, I am from from Oceana, West Virginia,(Wyoming county) you know. Too bad there Isn't a minus star option. Colorful and refreshing are not the words I would use to describe this "book". I would use insulting and offensive. If you decide to read this book, remember that it is purely fictional, the place described in this book does not exist.
Gary, November 12, 2013
West Virginians, Get over yourselves. Great book.
The author is a friend of mine. When I read the book, I was expecting to have to offer polite encouragement: "Yeah, Steve, that was pretty good . . .". Instead, the book was a can't-put-it-down kind of read. The development that grabbed me was how the bizareness of the carnie freaks really came through early, while later in the book they were fonts of wisdom and you no longer noticed their "differenceness." Characters were colorful, genuine and warm, and development unfolded in natural and sometimes surprising ways.
This book might qualify as a chick-book (most of my women friends loved it). Good thing that I love literature that features the development of a strong woman ("The Dive from Clausen's Pier"). The ending was innovative and avoided the usual cliches.
As to the West Virginians that are offended by the dialect - granted, it is a little corny. But get over yourselves. This is a work of fiction, and the language works well with the characters. The author's personal history as a carnival worker comes through in the language and attitudes portrayed.
There is a book called "Have No Shame" by Melissa Foster. It portrays southern dialect and accents. In its Kindl version, you can choose to read it in its original form, or in a "cleaned up" straighter sort of English. I find it a shame that we are so sensitive about cultural portrayal that we might choose the white bread version over something more colorful and authentic. This story would work well in a more generic cleaned-up version because it's simply a good story. But the colorful words and phrases engaged and challenged me, even when I sometimes found them a little jarring and perplexing. I didn't read the book with the idea that this is the way people in West Virginia talk today. So what?