(Penguin)

www.penguin.com

BY JAKE CLINE

Known as much for his laconic demeanor as he is for his distinctive, "high lonesome" singing, roots-music pioneer Ralph Stanley opens up about his life and career in this engaging, if often digressive, autobiography. Born and raised in the Virginia mountains, the 82-year-old Stanley came to prominence with his elder brother, Carter, in the mid-1940s, playing old folksongs and original mountain music at a time when Bill Monroe was a marquee name. The Stanley Brothers toughed out a 20-year career, barely surviving the advent of Elvis Presley and rock 'n' roll and the neglect of the country-music establishment in Nashville. But Stanley, writing in his native vernacular, expresses little bitterness over how his once-popular style of music was marginalized in the 1950s and proves well-amused by its resurgence following the release of the O Brother Where Art Thou? soundtrack in 2000.

Like many an Appalachian folksong, Stanley's book is shot through with tales of murder, jealousy, revenge and hardscrabble living. There's plenty of grief here, too: Stanley's recollections of his gone-too-soon brother are tender and heart-rending, and few men have loved their mothers more than this one. But Stanley's story is not without hope, and his commitment to preserving a way of life that is fast disappearing and the memory of those unsung mountain musicians who have gone before him is not only admirable, but essential. It's no cliché to say Ralph Stanley is living history, and his book is both a testament and a gift. We're lucky to have it.