New Stories from the South: The Year's Best

I gave this as a Christmas present for my son. He said it was great.

Madison Smart Bell, the editor of the 2009 edition of this series, opines, as do many, that "The white Old South, haunted by the Confederacy and the KKK, has pretty well gone up in smoke by this time." Certainly post-Katrina (several of the stories included here have something to do with that event) Louisiana elected an Indian American for its governor-- and a Republican at that-- and I would certainly agree with Mr. Bell's thesis. On the other hand, when an African American woman told us a few years ago that "the wind done gone," she ran into a mud slide from the caretakers of Margaret Mitchell's legacy that would make you think women were still wearing hoop skirts. Obviously-- sad to say-- pockets of the fossilized Old South remain. In keeping with his statement, Bell includes practically as many women writers as men, many of whom are African American. Add to that mix a Native American and an Indian American (born in West Virginia). Three of the writers are veterans: Jill McCorkle, Wendell Berry and Elizabeth Spencer. Many of the others are newcomers and at least one writer, Clinton J. Stewart, has a first published story. They hail from East Tennessee, West Tennessee, Kentucky, Louisiana, North Carolina, Illinois (transplated to New Orleans), Georgia, Mississippi, South Carolina, Kansas (transplanted to Florida), Oklahoma (college in North Carolina), and Virginia. The subject matter is as varied as the writers. A woman learns to weld ("Muscle Memory"), a youngster learns to hunt ("Bird Dog") and a father is reunited with a daughter he lost in a divorce ("Sightings"). Many of the stories entertain-- is there a better reason to read fiction?-- or make a statement about what it means to be human and often say something profound that turns a light on for the reader. The narrator in "Coast" wants to see Agnes, his lover, take in the details of a place that he knows well [a beautiful thought]. She [Agnes] comments that it is difficult to judge someone else's life. Some of my favorite stories-- although the choice is difficult-- in no particular order: Wendell Berry's "Fly Away." In this beautifully crafted and profoundly insightful story Andy Catlett's grandmother, who lived through the Civil War is a woman "who lived and worked so long before she began to die that she was the only one alive who still knew what she had known." In my favorite story "Banger Finds Out" the author Kelly Cherry brilliantly defines a twelve-year-old boy: "A boy of twelve lives intensely, every bone in his body desirious of movement, every nerve lit, every brain cell on high alert. He wants to know as many things as he can. Every fact he encounters is absorbed directly into his skin. How to fix a motor, how to tie knots, how to kick a field goal, how to ask out a girl, whether there really lis a God or if He's just a story parents tell children, like Santa Claus. He wants to know when his voice will deepen, when his body will get taller, when he'll be able to shave." I

As a tremendous fan of New Stories from the South (and an owner of every edition) I'd just like to say that if you have been underwhelmed by what we've seen the last few years since Shannon Ravenel retired as editor, give the anthology another try and pick up this edition. This is like the juicy editions of old, where nearly every story was something to sink your teeth into. Several stories have something to do with Hurricane Katrina. A couple were suspenseful. All but one or two commanded my attention. Read it!