In powerful, vivid verse, the master behind The Watch That Ends the Night recounts one of history’s most harrowing–and chilling–tales of survival.

In 1846, a group of emigrants bound for California face a choice: continue on their planned route or take a shortcut into the wilderness. Eighty-nine of them opt for the untested trail, a decision that plunges them into danger and desperation and, finally, the unthinkable. From extraordinary poet and novelist Allan Wolf comes a riveting retelling of the ill-fated journey of the Donner party across the Sierra Nevadas during the winter of 1846-1847. Brilliantly narrated by multiple voices, including world-weary, taunting, and all-knowing Hunger itself, this novel-in-verse examines a notorious chapter in history from various perspectives, among them caravan leaders George Donner and James Reed, Donner’s scholarly wife, two Miwok Indian guides, the Reed children, a sixteen-year-old orphan, and even a pair of oxen. Comprehensive back matter includes an author’s note, select character biographies, statistics, a time line of events, and more. Unprecedented in its detail and sweep, this haunting epic raises stirring questions about moral ambiguity, hope and resilience, and hunger of all kinds.

Most everyone knows the story of the Donner party– from historians to thrill-seekers alike. I myself am the latter; having always been morbidly interested in the humans that were so hellbent on survival that they made the hardest decision of their lives… which of course, was whether or not to feast on the flesh of their friends, lovers, and fellow travelers. Having read many a fictional account of this dangerous journey, I am always excited to see what a fresh eye will make of the tale. What Wolf has brought to the table that I have never seen before is a stunning amount of empathy woven into the most beautiful verse that actually made me take pause and consider the plight of these families instead of just satiating my gory curiosity. It was a brilliant show of emotion, history, and a dive into the ever-present eye of Hunger.

For those who may not be aware, the Donner party was made up of a hearty band of emigrants who were attempting to make it to California to settle untouched lands. They ended up using an untested route that was said to cut precious time off of their trek before winter hit, but through a series of mishaps and wrong turns, the group of farmers and their families soon found themselves stuck in the earliest snow any of them had ever seen. From there, things quickly became dire and dark. Companions were left behind, animals were sacrificed, and as the food started to run out and the pioneers themselves started to die from exposure and starvation– their loss was treated as the survivors’ gain. Man, woman, and child alike were carved into as if they were hogs led to the slaughter. It was because of this ultimate sacrifice that any of the remaining party made it out alive, as the rescue efforts to retrieve them were scantily outfitted and were only able to take a few members at a time.

I am such a sucker for unique storytelling devices, and Wolf’s triumph is littered with them. There are accounts from many prominent figures in the Donner party, all told in a form of poetry specific to them. My absolute favorites had to be Patty (the Angel), whose vignettes were all told through prayers, and the slowly deteriorating voices of Buck and Bright (Baptiste’s prized oxen) who sang a back and forth dirge. The flow between characters was seamless, and you truly fell in love with these characters. Each loss was heavily felt, and as their names were added to the snowfall between chapters, the rising tension was as present as the undeniable hunger. Which, speaking of Hunger, I thought that it was a masterful move to use the feeling as a narrator of sorts. Who better to tell the story of these wayward wanderers than the presence that fuels us all? It is in every decision we make. Our hearts hunger for connection, our minds hunger for challenge, and our stomachs hunger for sustenance in an undeniable animalistic way that cannot be ignored.

All in all, this saga of endurance and desperation that has trickled down through the centuries remains unchanged, but Wolf has breathed new life into it. Not only did he painstakingly use actual letters and accounts from the party’s own members, but he also took the time to lay these works out for the reader at the end of the novel– including some biographies of the surviving members to show how their lives progressed after the conclusion of the nightmare. It was such a personal thing to read, which I think the verse greatly lends itself to. There is a bevy of pain, loss, and longing within these pages that I couldn’t help but identify with, and for the first time, I feel like I am truly seeing these adventurers for who they are, instead of the acts that they committed. The Snow Fell Three Graves Deep is a calculated plea for empathy, which is something I feel like we all need right now. I recommend this book with full faith that readers with all kinds of hunger will enjoy.

5/5 stars