Robert Gipe has blown the lid off his already zany writing style with Pop, the conclusion to his Canard County Kentucky trilogy. It's a celebration of diverse Appalachia, told from three perspectives: that of Dawn Jewell Bilson, his original heroine from his first book Trampoline; Nicolete Bilson, her seventeen-year-old daughter; and their Uncle Hubert.

A lot is crammed into these few pages. For just a start, there is a visiting movie crew, environmental destruction/activism, social media, holiday parties, ghosts, violent crimes and attempted assaults, witchcraft, a lengthy dream sequence, my favorite shoe store, and notably, a fledgling soda pop business featuring local flavors. run by Nicolette and her friends, from which the novel takes its name. The book is set in 2016, so there is an election and the birth of Trumpmania as well. The action spreads across at least four states. I am not sure I understand it all, but it sure was a helluva ride.

As with the rest of the trilogy, the illustrations are hilarious, and pure genius. As a defense of the people and the region, I want to stand up and applaud Pop for its creativity and take up the phrase "nothing about us without us" directed at the wider culture, and Hollywood in particular, as a mantra.

As an Appalachian myself, I can't help but nitpick about this one detail: while the description of boiling down syrup and pouring off was spot on (I have done it, with a tractor engine instead of a mule to extract the juice from the stalks), you don't make sorghum syrup from cane. Nicolette and friends are clearly making molasses. Sorghum is a "whole nuther" plant.

I'm Robert Gipe's biggest fan and have told him so personally, but I believe that there are five or six potential novels here about a host of topics. The beauty of Trampoline and Weedeater was the contrast between poignancy and craziness, and in Pop our most talented new Appalachian author sometimes loses the pacing. I hardly felt that I could catch my breath long enough to do emotional justice to the sad parts. I hope he picks up some of these sociopolitical and comedic threads that are touched upon here and expands upon them in his future work, which I eagerly await. ( )

More sprawling and less intimate than Trampoline and Weedeater, but a fun ride—there are ghosts and visions, teenage entrepreneurs, a murder, and at least one surprise reveal. If there's a lesson here, it's that things are not always what they first seem (except for the guy who gets killed), and it's good to approach what you think you know—people, regions, and politics—with care and attention. And the illustrations, as always, are top notch. I suspect this is Gipe's last Canard County book, and I'll genuinely miss the cast of characters. ( )