Southern Literature

lionel

Reader
Thanks, DB. And here's a coincidence - my first copy of Oxford American, the Annual Southern Music Issue, has just arrived. 192 pages and two CDs with a total of 53 tracks. What more could anyone what? Maybe a track from the Coon Creek Girls, as I just love author and musician Lily May Ledford (1917-85).

And the postman also brought Reynolds Price's The Source of Light and The Promise of Rest. Whooo.

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Bubba

Reader
When the Oxford American was located in Oxford, Mississippi, it was bankrolled by John Grisham. Why he withdrew his support I don't know. In those same years the magazine was nearly bankrupted by a corrupt office manager who apparently embezzled hundreds of thousands of dollars.

I, for one, wouldn't have mourned its demise overmuch. Although it often publishes very good stuff, I find its exclusive focus on the American South off-putting.

To clarify, Lionel, I should say I read novels and stories for entertainment alone; if I want to learn something I'll read Wikipedia or, say, a user's manual for one of the many small appliances in my apartment. Of course, if while entertaining me a novel or story happens to teach me something I don't necessarily object.

I've never read any Gaines, though he and I share a home state and the college I graduated from gave him an award and invited him to speak to the students.

Do indeed read Portis, but don't start with Masters of Atlantis. I think I've read all of Portis's books four or five times, and I expect will go on rereading them every so often for the rest of my life. They are that good.

By the way, Lionel, I don't hate or even dislike Bola?o (for the most part, in fact, his seems to me an appealing personality); the reception of his work, on the other hand, is symptomatic of a phenomenon I detest deeply.
 

lionel

Reader
When the Oxford American was located in Oxford, Mississippi, it was bankrolled by John Grisham.

I wasn’t aware of this, or even of the origin of its name. So it was obviously based in Ole Miss. I did wonder about the title of course, and no doubt it's on their website, but that clarifies things.

When I drove to New Albany, Mississippi, last September/October, we asked for directions to Cleveland Street, where William Faulkner was born, and where there’s a plaque on the corner of Jefferson remembering his birth there. We were very lucky in that the person we asked had a strong interest in Faulkner and appreciated literature in general, although he was very disappointed that we were on our way from Oxford and hadn't seen Grisham's house, although we weren't even aware of it at the time.
Why he withdrew his support I don't know. In those same years the magazine was nearly bankrupted by a corrupt office manager who apparently embezzled hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Even more interesting!
I, for one, wouldn't have mourned its demise overmuch.
Oh dear.
Although it often publishes very good stuff, I find its exclusive focus on the American South off-putting.
But Bubba, we’re talking about an organ that calls itself ‘The Southern Magazine of Good Writing’, and it is. It’s exclusively, although very broadly but generously in terms of geographical definition, about the American South. The South is its raison d'?tre, and it stands as a kind of bastion against the cultural hegemony of the North-east in particular (you know, the home of the publishers I believe you appear not to appreciate too much?). You wanna read Updike, Roth, Irving, or any of their many imitators, then OK. But I don’t think you do, Bubba, do you?. So why shouldn’t a magazine specialize in advertising the South, as it has so much to offer, and so little has really been written about it? Most non-Americans think of the USA as New York (which almost exclusively means Manhattan), California (but mainly LA and San Francisco), Las Vegas, Florida (but just Miami, and Orlando for Disney), and maybe Chicago (for the mobster rather than the Obama or the Bellow effect). Images of the South in popular culture still follow the old stereotypes, and people from the North still think civilisation ends south of the Mason-Dixon line.

I’ve been listening to the CDs of Southern music (from the 1940s to today) that came with the current issue of Oxford American, and reading about each track as I listen, and I’m often amazed by the quality of the material. The wonderful Caroline Herring, above all, is a performer who deserves a very prominent place in the canon of modern music, but how many people - even in the South - have heard of her? I’ve only heard of her because of the existence of this magazine, and I’m very pleased to have done so. I’m sure many other people must feel the same about Caroline Herring or any of the other often obscure artists featured on these CDs.
To clarify, Lionel, I should say I read novels and stories for entertainment alone
OK, but I still think we have a problem. To me, entertainment means wasting time, just reading, watching or listening to things mindlessly. Time is precious, and wasting it is a crime. Many people do just that, but I think you and I don’t. I don’t know if that’s clarified things, but at least I’ve tried.
if I want to learn something I'll read Wikipedia
I’d be careful with Wikipedia: I once wanted to find out about Angela Carter’s Wise Children, and couldn’t believe I was reading about a porn novel. The sabotage was later deleted by the Wikipedia police force, but as it was a set college text at the time it could perhaps have given a slightly incorrect impression! The main (maybe the only, I don’t remember) Wikipedia entry I’ve made is about Lionel Britton, but I’m regularly policing the thing as it gets sabotaged frequently.
I've never read any Gaines, though he and I share a home state and the college I graduated from gave him an award and invited him to speak to the students.
Gaines is well worth looking into. I’d also really push Reynolds Price, although he’s from North Carolina, which is of course a little distance away.
Do indeed read Portis, but don't start with Masters of Atlantis. I think I've read all of Portis's books four or five times, and I expect will go on rereading them every so often for the rest of my life. They are that good.
I now have a copy of True Grit, and I must admit that I think I have to interrupt my second reading of Selah Saterstrom’s The Pink Institution in order to read it. But I intend no criticism of Saterstrom by that, and far from it: it’s very unusual that I read a book twice.
By the way, Lionel, I don't hate or even dislike Bola?o (for the most part, in fact, his seems to me an appealing personality); the reception of his work, on the other hand, is symptomatic of a phenomenon I detest deeply.
That clarifies something that I’d misunderstood, or perhaps not picked up on. Yeah, I agree that it will be very interesting to see how Bola?o weathers after all the eulogies die down.

Many thanks for this contribution, Bubba.

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lionel

Reader
I've not mentioned William Styron, but he was born in Virginia, and two of his four novels - Lie Down in Darkness and The Confessions of Nat Turner - are set in the South. Styron's last novel, Sophie's Choice, is set in Brooklyn, although the narrator - Stingo - is from the South.

In this week's TLS, James Campbell talks about Styron's recent posthumous publications, and he quotes from 'The Way of the Warrior', an unfinished novel, on the narrator's love of country music:

'Perhaps one has to be southern-born to truly appreciate this homely, untamed genre, but from the time I was a boy I found in the music, at its best, a woebegone loveliness and simplicity of utterance, a balladry - sometimes wrenchingly haunting and sad - that was an authentic echo of the poor soil from which it had sprung, and I cannot even now hear the voices of Ernest Tubb or Roy Acuff or the Carter Family or Kitty Wells without being torn headlong from my surroundings and into a brief bitter-sweet vision of the pine forests and red earth, the backwoods stores and the sluggish tidewater rivers, the whole tormented landscape of that strange world below the Potomac...'

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lionel

Reader
The Caribbean writer Edouard Glissant visited Rowan Oak, William Faulkner's home in Oxford, Mississippi, in 1989. Faulkner, Mississippi (1996) is a collection of Glissant's essays on Faulkner.

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lionel

Reader
Of Madison Jones's first two novels, The Innocent (1957) and Forest of the Night (1960),the critic Paul Binding, in Separate Country: A Literary Journey through the American South (1979) says: 'Interesting though they are, these novels seem to me so shot with ambiguities and authorial tensions as to be bewildering both in detail and overall vision. Where they are alive is where they are most confused.' My reading of the Innocent wasn't a happy ride, and I'm expecting a similar one with Forest of the Night, but look forward with some expectation to his third novel - A Buried Land (1963) - which is when Madison Jones is generally believed to have taken off as a writer.

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waalkwriter

Reader
No mention of Look Homeward, Angel or Thomas Wolfe? A very prominent and important Appalachian writer from Ashville, NC. Though he died young, he was one of the most critically popular romantic, (not in the sense of subject, but in literary style) writers of the time period, also penning You Can't go Home Again. Faulkner, in fact, consistently ranked Wolfe as the greatest writer of his generation, ahead of himself and Hemingway. Wolfe wrote some great bildungsroman, I believe is the correct term.

I just find it curious, because you were discussing the lack of Appalachian Literature.

Glad to see you give Barry Hannah some flybys.
 

lionel

Reader
No mention of Look Homeward, Angel or Thomas Wolfe? A very prominent and important Appalachian writer from Ashville, NC. Though he died young, he was one of the most critically popular romantic, (not in the sense of subject, but in literary style) writers of the time period, also penning You Can't go Home Again. Faulkner, in fact, consistently ranked Wolfe as the greatest writer of his generation, ahead of himself and Hemingway. Wolfe wrote some great bildungsroman, I believe is the correct term.

I just find it curious, because you were discussing the lack of Appalachian Literature.

Ah, this is a serious omission, so to correct it, please find the marble statue of the angel that W. O. created and that inspired his son Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward, Angel (now some miles down the road at the cemetery in Hendersonville, NC), plus shots of the Old Kentucky Home at Asheville, NC, from the outside and the inside (including the bed where Thomas Wolfe was born!), along with a few of my comments, here.

Glad to see you give Barry Hannah some flybys.

:):):)

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waalkwriter

Reader
Ah, this is a serious omission, so to correct it, please find the marble statue of the angel that W. O. created and that inspired his son Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward, Angel (now some miles down the road at the cemetery in Hendersonville, NC), plus shots of the Old Kentucky Home at Asheville, NC, from the outside and the inside (including the bed where Thomas Wolfe was born!), along with a few of my comments, here.



:):):)

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Thanks. lol Look Homeward, Angel, has been on my list for ages.
 

lionel

Reader
In 1963, in The Habit of Being, which is a collection of letters written by Flannery O'Connor and edited by Sally Fitzgerald, O'Connor writes to Betty Hester: 'Right now I'm trying to get Madison Jones' [A Buried Land] read.* It is a shame about his books. They are excellent and fall like lead clear out of sight the minute they are published.'

This time I agree with O'Connor: A Buried Land is indeed excellent. Its genesis is a melding of two things: Jones's deep concern about the flooding of huge areas of Tennessee and northern Alabama by the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA), and a story Jones heard about a young woman dying after an abortion.

The novel, once more, is about a good man corrupted by evil. Gradually unfolding events inevitably lead to Percy's undoing, and the novel almost reads like a thriller, or a kind of detective story, even a Greek tragedy. The cerebral young Percy has an alter ego, his physically-oriented friend Jesse, who tempts him to have sex with Cora, a simple girl originally from the mountains. She dies shortly after a botched abortion in Nashville, and Percy and Jesse bury her in a graveyard now evacuated before the TVA floods the area and buries the past. Unlike the rest of his family, who think the TVA are virtual robbers, Percy supports newness. However, despite his job as a lawyer several years later and his potential rosy prospects, his past actions come back to torment and haunt him in the shape of Fowler, Cora's brutal and relentlessly vengeful brother, and the impoverished Jesse, who clings to a past Percy hopelessly wishes were forgotten.

The final paragraph on the front flap reads:

'Madison Jones turns the screws of suspense very tight in this powerful book. Youngblood is a modern Raskolnikov, whose struggle against himself is no less desperate than his conflict with his unnerving pursuer.'

A remarkable book.

*Betty Hester is known as 'A' in The Habit of Being, and was a Georgian who corresponded with O'Connor between 1955 and 1964. Their letters total almost 300.

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lionel

Reader
I've quoted the wonderful Lee Smith before, and I don't think she'll come after me with a copyright hammer for repeating what she says about River of Earth (1940), a novel by James Still (1906-2001), simply because any amount of publicity for either Smith or Still can only be of benefit to anyone concerned:

'[T]he beautiful and heartbreaking novel "River of Earth" [is] a kind of Appalachian "Grapes of Wrath" chronicling the Baldridge family's desperate struggle to survive when the mines close and the crops fail. This is not only one of the best Appalachian novels ever written, but it is also one of the best novels ever written.

'And yet James Still is not usually taught in so-called Southern literature classes.

'Why not?

'Because Appalachia is to the South what the South is to the rest of the country. That is: lesser than, backward, marginal. Other. Look at the stereotypes: "Hee Haw," "Deliverance," Dogpatch and "The Dukes of Hazzard." A bunch of hillbillies sitting on a rickety old porch drinking moonshine and living on welfare, right?

'Wrong. All of this is wrong; none of this is true.

'And I am here to tell all you people who are visiting Atlanta for the first time: You may think you're in the South, but you're not in the only South. There's another South, an almost secret South, waiting for you. All you have to do is get in a car and drive north, up into the beautiful wild mountains of North Georgia. Come on up and see us in North Carolina, in east Tennessee and Kentucky, and southwest Virginia and West Virginia.'

Lee is so right: if the South is the America of the outsider, Appalachia is the South's outsider. Appalachia is steeped in a widely unread literary wealth, of which James Still's novel River of Earth is a classic. But at the same time, it is easy to see why it is a neglected classic: it contains none of the Appalachian feud clich?s or crude remarks about interbreeding, or details about moonshining, and is more a collection of stories than a single one. But it describes the dilemma of making a viable existence in the mountains as opposed to the ephemerally more lucrative lure of the mines in the lowlands.

And the unfamiliar vocabulary is difficult for some readers, although many linguistic nuances are very accessible: in Appalachian-speak, there seems to be a tendency to overcompensate for literacy skills by saying, for instance, 'hain't' and 'hit' for 'ain't' and 'it', as well as to say 'tuck' for 'took'.

Still's writing is not only a world away from more familiar Southern writing, but even a world away from better-known Appalachian novels such as John Fox Jr's The Trail of the Lonesome Pine (1908). It is a world well worth discovering.

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lionel

Reader
Having just finished Sue Monk Kidd's hugely popular The Secret Life of Bees, I can't help thinking that this should have been on Beth Ann Fennelly's above list of sexy moments in Southern books, as this book drips sex in parts.

In this novel, the protagonist Lily is 14, Zach no doubt about the same age, and Sue Monk Kidd has a particularly powerful way of expressing Lily's developing awareness of her sexuality. Perhaps the word 'membrane' is a little unsubtle here, but this passage is otherwise very subtle indeed:

'I knew I was crying because he had that one-sided dimple I loved, because every time I looked at him I got a hot, funny feeling that circulated from my waist to my kneecaps, because I'd been going along being my normal girl self and the next thing I knew I'd passed a membrane into a place of desperation.'

A little later Zach gives Lily a notebook, and OK, perhaps we are given a little redundant information when we're told that it is 'green with rosebuds on the cover', but Lily's reaction to this gift is pure sexual electricity:

'I threw my arms around him and leaned into his chest. He made a sound like Whoa, but after a second his arms folded around me, and we stayed like that, in a true embrace. He moved his hands up and down my back, till I was almost dizzy'.

The above words are an excellent example of how strongly sexual intensity can be expressed without being specific, although the narrative immediately after this underlines how impossible this love between a white girl and a black boy was in South Carolina in 1964:

'Finally he unwound his arms and said, "Lily, I like you better than any girl I've ever known, but you have to understand, there are people who would kill boys like me for even looking at girls like you."

'I couldn't restrain myself from touching his face, the place where his dimple caved into his skin. "I'm sorry", I said.

'"Yeah, me too", he said.'

Heartbreaking. As Zach states later on, 'We can't think of changing our skin. [...] Change the world - that's how we gotta think.'

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john h

Reader
I would like to second Lionel's endorsement of James Stills' "River Of Earth". Surely one of the most underrated books around. He also has a collection of stories called "Pattern Of a Man" that is excellent. He deserves to be better known.
 

lionel

Reader
I would like to second Lionel's endorsement of James Stills' "River Of Earth". Surely one of the most underrated books around. He also has a collection of stories called "Pattern Of a Man" that is excellent. He deserves to be better known.

Thank you kindly, John H.

I also think the Affrilachian poets deserve to be better known:

Affrilachian Poets - History

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Beth

Reader
'And I am here to tell all you people who are visiting Atlanta for the first time: You may think you're in the South, but you're not in the only South. There's another South, an almost secret South, waiting for you. All you have to do is get in a car and drive north, up into the beautiful wild mountains of North Georgia. Come on up and see us in North Carolina, in east Tennessee and Kentucky, and southwest Virginia and West Virginia.'

Lionel, I hope you'll continue this thread as you are able. I grew up in Appalachia and my roots are here . It is a wild, secret place, for sure. Thanks for all of the reading suggestions.
 

lionel

Reader
Lionel, I hope you'll continue this thread as you are able. I grew up in Appalachia and my roots are here . It is a wild, secret place, for sure. Thanks for all of the reading suggestions.

Many thanks for this encouragement, Beth. I think I've not added to the thread recently because I seemed to be talking to myself, but you've given me a strong nudge to keep plugging Southern literature.

And here's an odd coincidence: just two weeks ago, I visited Rugby, Tennessee, which is actually in Morgan and Scott counties! For once, though, I wasn't checking out Southern literature, but Thomas (Tom Brown's Schooldays) Hughes's utopian activities there in the 19th century.

However, I've come across many Southern writers formerly unknown to me, and shall be making comments in due course. I don't imagine too many people have heard of Mildred Haun, for instance, who was born in Hamblen County and grew up in Cocke County*, both of which are in east Tennessee. She didn't publish a great deal, but Vanderbilt University Press was impressed enough to re-publish her stories after her death, along with a number of others. I've not read any yet, but apparently they were highly unsual tales of 'witchcraft, incest, miscegenation, and infanticide'.

*Both my Tennessee Writers book by Thomas Daniel Young and the online Tennessee Encyclopedia of History and Culture mention Cocke County, but Appalachianbooks.com claims that recent research reveals that Haun never lived in Cocke County, so...

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