Book Review: Sunshine in the Valley

Sunshine in the Valley,  Kyle Muntz (Coping Mechanisms)

Sunshine in the Valley tells the story of protagonists Jacob, Laura and Gidian, the inhabitants of a village located on the outskirts of time and space. Spurred by innate curiosity, Jacob ventures beyond the bounds of its beauty—an act forbidden by his father, the town priest ("...of the Sun God.")—and unwittingly upsets the natural order. The fallout directly affects his abandoned mates, both of whom are forced to reckon with the rift it creates—one that thrusts them into the ether of their respective selves.

The novel, author Kyle Muntz's sophomore effort (his first being Voices), juxtaposes unorthodox storytelling, lush prose, suspense, and science fiction. Combined, they flow, gurgle, and meld to make Sunshine the ambitious work that it is.

Each member of the trio represent a different archetype: Jacob, the inherent contradictions of the self-made man (“As a son, from whatever lowly vantage, he witnessed the ultimate unhappiness that bore him—creased lines on [an] unsmiling face, a commitment to ritual—and had no wish to become it.”); Laura, the link between man and nature (“She lifted the flower, making it her companion. A stem by this point, excepting only the lingering threads of petals, she could return these to it, as well as life.”); Gidian, the relationship between artist and muse (“In her, he experienced earthquakes of creation. She wasn’t another person, she was himself and more of himself, bound my music, given ghostly frame, who thought and spoke separately—a girl.”). All combine to render the complex relationship of the characters to the traditions binding them to their homeland and fellow neighbors.

In addition to exploring man's often-adversarial relationship with the world/s he inhabits, Muntz also examines an array of themes—the limitations of small-town life and the consequences of unquestioned spirituality chief among them. No small feat, to be sure. Yet he manages to pull it off—even as the boundaries between self and other become so dense they create a literary asphyxiation. He achieves this with a faceted layering that calls time, location, and identity into question. 

As the novel nears it end, the numerous questions it poses are answered, sending the reader careening through the breadcrumbs of well-placed clues left throughout the story. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself reading it twice; there is a lot to take in. Thankfully, Muntz makes the payoff worth the cogitative effort.