American Canyon is a book that experiments with form, and when I say “experiment,” I mean it in the truest sense of the word. I mean that Ravva approaches past and present with an openness to the possibility of discovery and with a style of writing that is at once evocative and to the point. Ravva is the type of writer who seems to understand the curious magic of empty space—those spaces that allow you to pause, those spaces that allow you to reflect. Ravva blends this less-is-more aesthetic with stills of documentary footage that tell their own stories separate from the text—images of men and women in prayer, children swarming the camera, a river at dusk, an evening sky crisscrossed with wires and antennas—all of which works together to create a deeper understanding of identity, devotion and place.

American Canyon is a book that experiments with form, and when I say “experiment,” I mean it in the truest sense of the word. I mean that Ravva approaches past and present with an openness to the possibility of discovery and with a style of writing that is at once evocative and to the point. Ravva is the type of writer who seems to understand the curious magic of empty space—those spaces that allow you to pause, those spaces that allow you to reflect. Ravva blends this less-is-more aesthetic with stills of documentary footage that tell their own stories separate from the text—images of men and women in prayer, children swarming the camera, a river at dusk, an evening sky crisscrossed with wires and antennas—all of which works together to create a deeper understanding of identity, devotion and place.

American Canyon is a book that experiments with form, and when I say “experiment,” I mean it in the truest sense of the word. I mean that Ravva approaches past and present with an openness to the possibility of discovery and with a style of writing that is at once evocative and to the point. Ravva is the type of writer who seems to understand the curious magic of empty space—those spaces that allow you to pause, those spaces that allow you to reflect. Ravva blends this less-is-more aesthetic with stills of documentary footage that tell their own stories separate from the text—images of men and women in prayer, children swarming the camera, a river at dusk, an evening sky crisscrossed with wires and antennas—all of which works together to create a deeper understanding of identity, devotion and place.