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.
***
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.
I just finished the collection 'Hot Pink' by Adam Levin. His novel 'The Instructions' was also very enjoyable.
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