The Poacher’s Son

Just finished reading The Poacher’s Son, by Paul Doiron, which is a story about a Maine Game Warden chasing bad guys through the deep dark woods. It’s a well-written book and I wanted to like it, I really did, and it kept me reading like few novels I’ve read lately. The problem is that I spent time fishing, hunting, and drinking with guys very similar to Doiron’s characters, and I think I liked (and respected) them a lot more than he does. And his hero, the protagonist, the game warden, is basically a dick, and almost all of his co-workers, cops and game wardens all, are cast-iron assholes, with the exception of one retired pilot. And to me, the real villain of the piece is not the bad guy of the story, it’s the giant lumber company that rides roughshod over ordinary people’s lives, but since the shit they do is technically legal, Dioron gives them a total pass, without even a single word about how the thieving timber companies got the title to half the land in the State of Maine in the first place. Doiron also gives short shrift to the locals, ‘white trash’ in his words, people who live in trailers and shacks and who have to scuffle to get by. Not many of them got the opportunity to attend Yale like yourself, Mr. D, and a good number of them are doing the best they can.

A little compassion would be nice.