The Madhatter's Guide to Chocolate, by Rhett DeVane

by Mary C. Legg

The Madhatter's Guide to Chocolate
by Rhett DeVane
Austin TX : Rabid Press
http://www.rabidpress.com
0-9743039-0-9 304
pp 2003 14.95 USD

Some folks work for the lack of money; others labor for the love of chocolate. Max the Madhatter with the purple hat escaped the chicken –cage to wander the streets. Nurse Marion said it would help to keep the voices away. Whenever they came, they'd drag him away to be strapped to a bed and zapped by a machine, (not a pleasant experience).

Mr. D paid Max in chocolate, who jotted recipes down in his notepad. Writing catches thoughts on paper, just like pinning fleeting butterflies to a corkboard, fixed in space and time, they couldn't disappear. Words on paper have curled edges like kind smiles. He wrote fleeting thoughts and memories to recall another day: a yellow daisy given by Lil' Hattie in his hatbrim.

A gift given must be returned.

Returning to Chattahoochie wasn't easy-- not because of the funeral and the hollow condolences. She hated to admit that she grew up there, telling everyone that she lived three miles out on the Hill. Still single, Hattie knew tongues would wag when she arrived. Going back was like trying to wear a pinafore from when she was twelve. Things just didn't fit. Now she had even less reason to visit her parents' old home. Both of them were dead, leaving Aunt Piddie and her daughter Evelyn, and her rather cold brother, Bobby, known as Mr. Personality for his way of making the heavens break open with acid rain. Out of the Hooch, Hattie didn't want to get trapped again.

The will Hank explained surprised them both. They hadn't an inkling about their parents' estate. Inheriting the house complicated things, like moving a tree with roots. She planned to stay a month to settle her mother's affairs. Why hadn't she married? The handsome hunk at the funeral? Oh, Garrett, fitting the Hollywood stereotype of dreams. There were all those old acquaintances that were better long forgotten. Jake, her old flame, had moved back to town. He arranged the flowers for the funeral. Certainly he should be thanked. After all, she took a nosedive into the grave, disturbing the arrangement. Maybe some things had changed, but the town looked the same as it did in the Fifties: a center for mentally retarded.

Chattahoochie has a gossip columnist to keep the press alive. Elvina keeps busy giving accounts of social affairs. Without her the town wouldn't spin in so many circles. Tongues do talk and prejudice is hard to bury in a small town where the main profession is prying into other people's minds. When the local Countess Cruella de Witherspoon-Ville kicked the bucket, Jake inherited the castle. Practical, he traded it in for a craft. Changes come slow in a town where folks are formed in their ways. Little girls grow up to be wives and men should act like men. Pansies belong planted in a garden and not found among the lilies in the florist shop.

Lively chatter draws the spectator into the action. Not everything comes up daisies; some sleep beneath roses in a town of racial and sexual prejudice. Filled with quirky characters and dynamic dialogue, the reader follows the local social affairs and the energetic plans to revive Chattahoochie into the land of the living. Buried with a Hershey Bar in his hands, Max the Madhatter endows Harriet with a magical recipe for life. Chocolate is only half so good when you eat it alone. To enjoy it, you must share it with the world. For some delicious reading, take a bite.

Mary C. Legg aka Pogo can be emailed at pogomcl@authorsden.com Mary is a net explorer and reviewer for Midwest Book Review, Compulsive Reader and eBooksnBytes.