Florida by Lauren Groff

Source of book: Borrowed from the library

Believe it or not, I DID check out this book before the “Florida Man Challenge” swept the interwebs. Actually, I have had this on my list since NPR did an interview with the author last year.

I have always loved short stories, and try to read a few collections each year as a contrast to the longer novels I read. For some reason, lately, I have ended up reading quite a few written by southern authors. It seems as if the last century or so has been particularly rich in authors from that region, perhaps because the rural South still seems foreign to many of us.

Florida is very much in the “gothic southern” tradition, with an underlying pedal tone of menace. I think that is the best way to describe it. There is a bit of a similarity with Flannery O’Connor (who I enjoy, even though I am not always certain why), but Groff doesn’t take things to that extreme. In fact, thinking back, most of the stories have a more or less non-terrible ending. I won’t say “happy” exactly. But people don’t necessarily end up dead, dismembered, or devastated either. Although I think there is the portent of divorce in a couple. I guess you could say that things end reasonably well given the circumstances, people are traumatized, but they mostly survive.

The menace comes from multiple directions. On the one hand, everything in Florida wants to kill you. The snakes and alligators. The mosquitos. The hurricanes. The heat. But even more dangerous than nature is humanity. People range from blithely uncaring to outright hostile and abusive. Perhaps the worst, however, is the monster within. Many of the characters battle their demons, and it isn’t clear who will win. Often, the story ends, but it is clear that the battle awaits another day.

Groff often tells the story from the point of view of a woman who is not quite her, but a lot like her - so the viewpoint is generally that of a middle class white woman. But Groff also intentionally expands outward from there. As one of her characters puts it, she refuses to “barricade myself with my whiteness in a gated community.” But she is aware of the privilege that comes with a choice.

One fantastic line comes in that story:

“Isn’t it...dicey? people our parents’ age would say, grimacing, when we told them where we lived, and it took all my willpower not to say, Do you mean black, or just poor? Because it was both.”

Some of the stories are about pretty normal situations, with relationships and tensions and discovery. But others are pretty crazy. There is the man who collects reptiles and eventually dies after a bite in the field. (He isn’t the main character - but his life sets the stage for the rest of the story.) There is a particularly harrowing tale of two small sisters abandoned by their mother and her boyfriend right before a hurricane hits their island. They are resourceful, and manage to survive for weeks before they are discovered. This is one where things end well, but just barely. It is also one of a few hurricane stories. There is another where a woman falls and gives herself a nasty concussion - and she has to hold it together enough to care for her small boys until her husband returns in a few days. Another is a story of a grad student whose life spirals into homelessness when her boyfriend leaves her, and she cannot afford a place to live.

There are also a couple of interesting longer stories about Floridians on vacation in France. The theme seems to be one of leaving Florida, but still having too much Florida in you. (I can sympathize - I am a Californian through and through, even - especially - when I travel.) You can travel the world, but you can’t really leave yourself behind...

Groff’s writing is excellent - this is definitely literary fiction, not genre fiction. I admired a number of turns of phrase as I read through the book, and the psychology was intriguing. The story about the concussion was particularly impressive in the way the narrator’s story blended between her rational brain and the addled and concussed brain in unexpected yet entirely believable ways. It is vivid, carefully crafted storytelling, and compelling.

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Hey, this is a good excuse to link one of my favorite Clint Black tunes - it has been my anthem (or better yet, an anti-anthem) for the past couple decades.