Cold Mountain: A Novel
|Publisher:||Atlantic Monthly Press|
One of the most acclaimed novels in recent memory, Charles Frazier’s Cold Mountain is a masterpiece that is at once an enthralling adventure, a stirring love story, and a luminous evocation of a vanished American in all its savagery, solitude, and splendor.
Sorely wounded and fatally disillusioned in the fighting at Petersburg, Inman, a Confederate soldier, decides to walk back to his home in the Blue Ridge Mountains and to Ada, the woman he loved there years before. His trek across the disintegrating South brings him into intimate and sometimes lethal converse with slaves and marauders, bounty hunters and witches, both helpful and malign. At the same time, Ada is trying to revive her father’s derelict farm and learn to survive in a world where the old certainties have been swept away. As it interweaves their stories, Cold Mountain asserts itself as an authentic American Odyssey—hugely powerful, majestically lovely, and keenly moving.
The hero of Charles Frazier’s beautifully written and deeply-imagined first novel is Inman, a disillusioned Confederate soldier who has failed to die as expected after being seriously wounded in battle during the last days of the Civil War. Rather than waiting to be redeployed to the front, the soul-sick Inman deserts, and embarks on a dangerous and lonely odyssey through the devastated South, heading home to North Carolina, and seeking only to be reunited with his beloved, Ada, who has herself been struggling to maintain the family farm she inherited. Cold Mountain is an unforgettable addition to the literature of one of the most important and transformational periods in American history.
Charles Frazier’s debut novel, Cold Mountain, is the story of a very long walk. In the waning months of the Civil War, a wounded Confederate veteran named Inman gets up from his hospital bed and begins the long journey back to his home in the remote hills of North Carolina. Along the way he meets rogues and outlaws, Good Samaritans and vigilantes, people who help and others who hinder, but through it all Inman’s aim is true: his one goal is to return to Cold Mountain and to Ada, the woman he left behind. The object of his affection, meanwhile, has problems of her own. Raised in the rarified air of Charleston society, Ada was brought to the backwoods of Cold Mountain by her father, a preacher who came to the country for his health. Even after her father’s death, Ada remains there, partly to wait for Inman, but partly because she senses her destiny lies not in the city but in the North Carolina Blue Ridge.
Cold Mountain is the story of two parallel journeys: Inman’s physical trek across the American landscape and Ada’s internal odyssey toward an understanding of herself. What makes Frazier’s novel so satisfying is the depth of detail surrounding both journeys. Frazier based this story on family history, and in the characters of Inman and Ada he has paid a rich compliment to their historical counterparts. Cold Mountain is, quite simply, a wonderful book.
Barnes and Noble
Charles Frazier’s Cold Mountain has quickly established itself as a must-read. Everyone is talking about this eloquent and ambitious first novel; word-of-mouth recommendations and dust jacket blurbs, even serious literary reviews are trembling beneath the weight of the half-forgotten superlatives that have been dusted off and pressed into service for this book. I must admit to redlining the adjectivometer a bit myself while singing its praises. Frazier’s astonishing fiction debut is a literary page-turner—an utterly compelling story driven by rhythmic, resonant prose and convincing historical detail.
Cold Mountain is the story of Inman, a wounded and soul-sick Confederate soldier who, like his literary fellow-traveler Odysseus, has quit the field of battle only to find the way home littered with impediments and prowled by adversaries. Inman’s Penelope is Ada, a headstrong belle who has forsaken her place in Charleston society in order to accompany her father—a tubercular southern gentleman turned missionary—to a new home in the healthy mountain air of North Carolina. Frazier divides the narrative between Inman’s homeward progress and Ada’s struggle to make it on her own after her father dies, establishing an underlying tension that is at once subtle and irresistible.
Inman is critically wounded in the fighting outside Petersburg and, after a rough triage, he is “classed among the dying and put on a cot to do so.” When his body stubbornly refuses to comply, he is evacuated further south to a hospital where he may succumb at his leisure. But against all odds, Inman’s terrible injury insists upon healing itself. During the long months of convalescence he struggles to shed the hated, insulating numbness put on against the carnage he has seen—Malvern Hill, Sharpsburg, Petersburg, Fredericksburg—and probes his psychic wounds for the shrapnel of his former self. He finds instead a refuge in the “topography of home in his head” and the Cherokee folk tales of his childhood friend Swimmer:
“As Inman sat brooding and pining for his lost self, one of Swimmer’s creekside stories rushed into his memory with great urgency and attractiveness. Swimmer claimed that above the blue vault of heaven there was a forest inhabited by a celestial race. Men could not go there to stay and live, but in that high land the dead spirit could be reborn.
“Though Inman could not recall whether Swimmer had told him what else might be involved in reaching that healing realm, Cold Mountain nevertheless soared in his mind as a place where all his scattered forces might gather. Inman did not consider himself to be a superstitious person, but he did believe that there is a world invisible to us. He no longer thought of that world as heaven, nor did he still think that we get to go there when we die. Those teachings had been burned away. But he could not abide by a universe composed only of what he could see, especially when it was so frequently foul. So he held to the idea of another world, a better place, and he figured he might as well consider Cold Mountain to be the location of it as anywhere.”
Knowing that he will soon be deemed fit to return to active duty, Inman decides it is time to see if his “better place” still exists. He gathers what provisions he has been able to hoard, readies his fearsome LeMats revolver—a double-barreled affair capable of firing nine .40 caliber rounds as well as a single load of shot—slips out of the hospital under the cover of darkness, and begins the long walk home.
Meanwhile, Ada is reeling from her own mortal blow. The death of her father has left her penniless and alone, without the slightest idea of how she will survive. Though “educated beyond the point considered wise for females,” she now finds that her vaunted talents—a deft hand at the piano and a literary turn of mind—have little value in the wartime barter economy of the rural South. The well-meaning members of her father’s former congregation fully expect Ada to sell out and return to Charleston, but the prospect of begging charity or entering into some “mildly disguised parasitic relationship” with distant kin disgusts her. Salvation arrives in the form of Ruby Thewes, a solitary young mountain woman who teaches Ada the basic tenets of self-reliance and a Tolstoyan reverence for physical labor. “Simply living had never struck Ada as such a tiresome business”—but her exertions give her a pride in her land and an ease with herself that she has never known.
Inman’s lowland odyssey is fraught with peril. He travels mostly at night to avoid the Home Guard—brutal vigilante bands who patrol the highways for runaway slaves and deserting “outliers”—but encounters a strange assortment of misfits nonetheless: Veasey, the defrocked preacher and would-be “pistoleer” who appoints Inman his personal confessor; Odell, once heir to a Georgia planter, doomed to wander the southland in search of his slave lover; Junior, a noisome and treacherous hillbilly; and a wise old goatwoman who gives him a glimpse of God’s mercy.
Time and again Frazier addresses the mysteries of faith and redemption. Though the war has ravaged the countryside and broken its people in body and in spirit, salvation—admittedly, salvation of a humanist sort—is always possible for those who dare to ask it. Even Ruby’s long-lost father, Stobrod, a wastrel who has spent the majority of his life occupied in either the manufacture or the consumption of moonshine, is born again through his music. As in Goethe’s dictum, “der weg ist das ziel,” the seeking is in itself the path to finding redemption. Those who make the journey—physically or spiritually—ultimately find comfort; those who do not live a hell on earth.
A book as assured and as satisfying as Cold Mountain is a cause for celebration, and a first novel of this caliber (David Guterson’s Snow Falling on Cedars comes to mind) is exceptional indeed. Charles Frazier has made an auspicious debut. —Greg Marrs
Director Anthony Minghella’s take on Charles Frazier’s bestselling novel is powered by wistful romanticism and a dramatic structure that’s been compared to Homer’s Odyssey. That latter creative tack parallels the Coens’ O Brother, Where Art Thou in crucial ways, and is further enhanced by another T-Bone Burnett-produced soundtrack of Appalachian-inflected folk traditionals, sympathetic originals by diverse songwriters (Elvis Costello and Sting), and a core of gritty performances (the White Stripe’s Jack White and Alison Krauss) that rise above mere…
Freely adapted from Charles Frazier’s beloved bestseller, Cold Mountain boasts an impeccable pedigree as a respectable Civil War love story, offering everything you’d want from a romantic epic except a resonant emotional core. Everything in this sweeping, Odyssean journey depends on believing in the instant love that ignites during a very brief encounter between genteel, city-bred preacher’s daughter Ada (Nicole Kidman) and Confederate soldier Inman (Jude Law), who deserts the battlefield to return, weary and wounded, to Ada’s inherited farm in the…