I am currently half way through the novel A Painted House By John Grisham and I feel it is quite different from all his other works that I have read. In fact, if I didn't know the book was written by John Grisham, I would never have guessed it. So here's a quick look at the first page from the book, which will give you an idea of what's to come...and there's a lot, believe me.
The hill people and the Mexicans arrived on the same day. It was a Wednesday, early in September 1952. The Cardinals were five games behind the Dodgers with three weeks to go, and the season looked hopeless. The cotton, however, was waist high to my father, over my head, and he and my grandfather could be heard before supper whispering words that were seldom heard. It could be a 'good crop.'
They were farmers, hardworking men who embraced pessimism, only when discussing the weather and the crops. There was too much sun, or too much rain, or the threat of floods in the lowlands, or the rising prices of the markets. On the most perfect of days, my mother would quietly say to me, 'Don't worry. The men will find something to worry about.'
Pappy, my grandfather, was worried about the price for labor when we went searching for the hill people. They were paid for every hundred pounds of cotton they picked. The previous year, according to him, it was $1.50 per hundred. He'd already.....
- Debolina Raja Gupta