Part family history, part fiction, Matt Bondurant's somber, engrossing novel, The Wettest County in the World, patches together the legend of his paternal grandfather and uncles, a fearsome trio of bootleggers in rural Prohibition-era Virginia. He's wonderful at evoking historical atmosphere the elaborate stills camouflaged in the woods,the music, the drunken gatherings that explode into shattering violence. (The book would make a teriffic HBO series.) Alas, he is somewhat less wonderful at pacing the narrative, which can be maddeningly slow. B

