Somewhere in my wanderings through life, amid the incessant hum of pop-culture background noise, I absorbed the plot of the Green Mile into my psyche. I suppose, for that reason, I never felt compelled to read it. This, undeniably, was a mistake, and even though I can admit that now, I did not read the book for the sake of reading it; I read it because I am interested in the idea of serial short story publication. I should have read it many years ago.
The setting of the Green Mile is death row, and the eponymous Green Mile is the walk before electric chair. Part historical fiction, part religious fantasy, and crammed with emotional highs and lows, this book is a masterpiece of human complexity. It’s difficult not to get choked up when reading about the damned denizens of Cold Mountain Penitentiary, despite the darkness that suffuses their stories.
If I’m honest, I don’t feel like summarizing the Green Mile any more than that. Go read it for yourself, or any one of its many glowing reviews.
