Winter's Bone by Daniel Woodrell
(Little, Brown and Company, $22.99)

I haven't read any of his other novels, but if Winter's Bone is any indication Daniel Woodrell is the poet laureate of white trash. Set in the freezing chill of winter in the Ozarks, this
potent and unnervingly violent novel concerns a teenage girl named Ree Dolly who tries to protect her younger brothers and her mentally ill mother when her crank-cookin' Daddy skips bail, putting his family in danger of losing their house.
Woodrell's prose is clear and often elegant, and it stunningly contrasts the beauty of the natural world with the savage slice of humanity with which Ree must negotiate. Men threaten her with regularity, which is nothing compared to the trio of women who beat her to a merciless pulp. The only element of grace in Ree's life is Gail, a friend who brings out Ree's latent lesbianism.
Gratuitous violence slightly undermines Woodrell's laudable craftsmanship. Like Joyce Carol Oates, Woodrell takes gruesome descriptions to their limit and then goes even further. As if following Ree on a spree of hellish, bloody adventures isn't enough, we're treated to gag-inducing images of excrement, chainsaws cutting human flesh and vomit flying in every direction imaginable.