The God of the Woods

"Do you ever worry that being born into money has stunted us?"

Alice blanched.

I don't mean anything by it," said Delphine. "It's just - lately I've been wondering whether having all of our material needs met from birth has been a positive aspect of our lives. It seems to me it may have resulted in some absence of yearning or striving in us. The quest, I like to call it. When one's parents or grandparents have already quested and conquered, what is there for subsequent generations to do?"

                             From God of the Woods

Liz Moore
Riverhead Books

A binge-worthy summer read

In Greek mythology, the "god of the woods" is Pan, as in panic-what the young campers at an exclusive summer camp are advised not to do if they become lost in the wilderness. But it is the adults who are soon panicking when one of the children, 13-year-old Barbara Van Laar, turns up missing. Is she lost in the forest? Or did she run away? Or was she the victim of a sexual predator on the loose?

The Van Laar family owns the camp, as well as much of the small town next to it, employing many of the blue-collar townspeople. As the search parties begin to spread out over Pan's territory, the mystery of the missing girl grows deeper and becomes more complex, uncovering layers of simmering mistrust, resentment, and fears that have been curdling beneath the surface of the town's life for decades.

The investigation into Barbara's disappearance also recalls the earlier, still unsolved disappearance of her brother, Bear, in 1961, when he was eight years old. (Does Greek mythology have a god of coincidences?)

The story is told through different viewpoints - not all of them reliable, we discover - that of another young camper, the unhappy mother of both missing children, one of the camp counselors, a detective investigating the case, the sexual predator on the run after escaping from prison, and Barbara herself.

As we become immersed in the various characters' lives, this latest disappearance becomes almost secondary to the unhappy marriages, the brittle class animosities, and the hidden personal frustrations that are brought to the surface. The Van Laars and their wealthy guests are such unpleasant and miserable people, one questions why so many bother accruing wealth in the first place. It doesn't seem to be in their best self-interest. The rich are as trapped in their wealth as the townsfolk in their more straitened conditions, all prisoners of their circumstances.

This is a page-turner, a binge-worthy summer read for the beach, or lying next to the pool, or over a lazy weekend at home. Moore writes in a propulsive style: short, tight chapters at a breathless pace, switching back and forth between the present moment (1975) and the earlier disappearance (1961), weaving the two story threads together for a disturbing climax.

Sure, you may not remember the story a week after finishing it, but while reading, it's a fun ride.


This review first appeared in The Columbia River Reader (August 15, 2024.) Reprinted with permission.