Wednesday, April 29, 2009

The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks (copy)

When we moved into our new Mississippi home, there were some things the previous owner graciously left behind. There were straight-back walnut chairs, a wood lathe, twin bedsprings, and two 75 lb dogs; surprisingly, the two dog houses were gone. It was in minutes of our own 75 lb dog being released from the car that dominance was established. Our sweet household dog, Reba, was attack by both yard dogs and she remained in terror for a couple of months.

After three years of unsuccessful integration, our dog died (unrelated causes) and a new puppy was brought into the yard. We struggled with the idea of allowing them to mix, but puppies have a tendency to roll over and expose their bodies to aggressors. We watched closely as she wiggled excitedly from my arms and ran head-on into the alpha dog. At no point did she flip over, turn tail and run, or suffer a nip on the ear. Within a year, this same puppy, around 30 lb, became the alpha dog without much ado.

These are my thoughts as I read The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart. In this young-adult novel, main character, Frankie, becomes the alpha dog in a group of males older and way bigger than her.

Frankie, short for Franklin, recalls a time when she could walk the halls of Alabaster Preparatory Academy in complete obscurity. Being bookish, she was content with her friends, good books and innocent crushes on certain male students such as Matthew Livingston. Any social activity was vicariously attended through her older sister and senior, Zada.

That was last year. This year Frankie has the figure of Venus, and no problem coming out of her shell. When she accidently wrecks her bicycle in front of the school entrance, none other than Matthew Livingston comes to her rescue. She is literally in shock as he offers his hand and walks her all the way to her first class.

The following week and Frankie is attending a senior party as Matthew’s date. The party is a little slow except for the cajoling between Matthew and his three buddies: Alpha, Dean, and Callum. Alpha’s real name is Alessandro Tesorieri, but he is considered the alpha dog of the pack. Frankie realizes Alpha isn’t that aggressive to smart females and her ability to rise amongst the group is possible.

Follow along as Frankie masterminds pranks with code names like Doggies in the Window, Night of a Thousand Dogs and Canned Beet Rebellion that assures her rise to female alpha.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

The Help (copy)

The setting is a hot Jackson in August of 1960. Aibileen arrives at the Leefolt residence where she will raise yet another white baby. This is what she is good at—raising white babies—and from the looks of it she is in the nick of time.

The baby is wailing with colic, and her mother is pleading for her to be quiet. Not touching her mind you, she stands at a distance shushing. I go straight in to little Mae Mobley, pluck her out of the crib, and sit her in my lap. I start the bouncy, my way of easing that ole gas out and she settles down. Miss Leefolt, still standing at a distance, throws her hands in the air. “I tried everything and it wouldn’t hush! It wouldn’t stop!”

Now, Mae Mobley is two, and we are inseparable. From the time I enter the residence, she is doing the gimme fingers. No matter how many times I kiss her boo-boos and soothe her hurt feelings, you can tell it is Miss Leefolt’s attention she craves.

Today, I am instructed to keep her quiet and out of the way. The ladies are playing bridge in Miss Leefolt’s small dining room, and Mae Mobley is mere feet away in her highchair. The swinging door distracts sweetie as I come and go while waiting on the ladies.

The ladies consist of Miss Leefolt’s two college friends, Miss Skeeter and Miss Hilly, and Miss Hilly’s mom Miss Walter. Miss Walter be deaf as a doe-nob according to Minny, my friend who works for her.

During the ladies’ conversation Minny’s name comes up. Miss Hilly is saying how Minny’s stealing the family heirlooms right out from under Miss Walter’s nose. It’s not so, but Miss Walter doesn’t hear the talk and doesn’t disprove.

Naturally, I’m all ears hoping to hear more when Miss Hilly stand up and announce she needs to use the bathroom. This seems a little odd. She knows it is down the hall, but she’s waiting for Miss Leefolt to acknowledge her. Then she asks to use the upstairs bathroom. Miss Skeeter asks what’s wrong with the hall bathroom, and Miss Hilly say that’s where the help goes.

Kathryn Stockett has done a rare and beautiful thing. She has crafted an engrossing story of three women navigating the confusing Civil Rights Era in her native state of Mississippi. The Help is hands-down the best book of 2009.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Mississippi Voices (copy)


Two women, two different eras, one state, and one love are my thoughts as I consider the poetry written by Margaret Walker and Patricia Neely-Dorsey. At times, I saw little in common with the ladies other than poetry as form. Walker’s poetry rocks with evils perpetrated on living man as Neely-Dorsey’s poetry sings the joys of southern living.

The two have totally different opinions as the gap in their generations is very apparent. Walker, born in 1915, spent her formative years under the shroud of an ugly segregated south; whereas, Neely-Dorsey flourished in a post-Civil Rights Movement, Mississippi.

It is Walker who sometimes centers on the negative. For example, in the poem titled “Lineage,” she up lifts her strong grandmothers to turn and knock herself down with the line, “Why am I not as they?” Neely-Dorsey remains upbeat to the core, even the poem “Right to Vote” which might easily lean to the bitter, affirms the positive:


It seems almost incredulous
That this was how it was;
But, believe you me, no matter what,
I vote, now, just because.

Then I began to compare the poetry and noticed some shared themes. The old adage, “write what you know,” runs throughout these poets. They talk about themselves, family members, and community characters; although, Walker speaks of the broader African-American community and Neely-Dorsey peppers hers with Tupelo locals.

One positive shared theme is sense of place as they herald the beauty of our state. Walker’s “My Mississippi Spring” hums,

My heart warms under snow;
flowers with forsythia,
japonica blooms, flowering quince,
bridal wreath, blood root and violet;
yellow running jasmine vine,
cape jessamine and saucer magnolias:
tulip-shaped, scenting lemon musk upon the air.


Neely-Dorsey’s “Mississippi Morning” sings,

There’s nothing like a Mississippi morning,
On a summer’s day;
It’s such a grand production,
It seems we all should pay.

Another poem by Neely-Dorsey will be getting a lot of press in the coming weeks. She told an on-air personality that a mayoral candidate in Boonville requested the use of her poem “If Mississippi’s in You” for her campaign. The end of the poem proclaims,

I’m Mississippi born,
I’m Mississippi bred,
And when I die,
I’ll be Mississippi dead.

Both books, This is My Century: New and Collected Poems by Margaret Walker and Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia: A Life in Poems by Patricia Neely-Dorsey, are equally compelling and a great way to celebrate National Poetry month.

Monday, April 13, 2009

100 Years of Stories and Pics!

April 13, 1909
A woman so humble, she kept her Pulitzer in the coat closet!
Was it Ricky Bragg who said his was on a permanent traveling exhibition through the families? ;D
How will you celebrate today?
Leave a comment declaring your all time favorite Welty story or pic.
Pic is her name for the depression era photos she snapped.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia


April is National Poetry Month and in celebration I have joined the Celebrate the South Blog Tour. Y'all know I'm all about the South, but did you know I have a secret affinity for poetry? That’s right! I’m poetry in motion. Bah! How can I even say that with a straight face!

Celebrate the South Blog Tour features poet Patricia Neely-Dorsey’s new book Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia: A Life in Poems. Her's is a good life! The poems are upbeat, bouncy at times, and make me proud to be a Mississippian. They are positive to the core, even the “Right to Vote” which is her parents struggle to check the ballot in Tupelo, Mississippi. It might easily lean to the bitter, but the last stanza of the poem affirms the positive:

It seems almost incredulous
That this was how it was;
But, believe you me, no matter what,
I vote, now, just because.

At times I hear past U.S. Poet Laureate, Billy Collins, in her voice. It is amongst her shorter poems, he stands out such as “Turning 40.”

When I turn 40,
I felt so brand new;
I bought a bikini,
And got a tattoo;
For some unknown reason,
I felt more alive;
I can’t imagine what’ll happen,
When I turn 45.

In the section title “Getting Personal” Patricia wrote a poem based on the many different takes on her name. For example, it begins:

Patty, Patty Cake, Patsy,
Tisha, Trisha, Trish;
I've got more names that I am called,
I can't even begin to list.

In this poem titled, “Name Calling,” I want to add two more deserved monikers. She should be called Magnolia after the title of her book; although, I shorten it gladly to Maggie.

Y'all may visit Pat at her blog or purchase her book through Amazon. For more information on her book, Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia, visit other blogs on the tour.

BLOG TOUR

April 5 - Preaching Sunday

April 6 - Southern Life

April 7 - Mississippi Morning

April 8 - Southern Man

April 9 - Soul Food Restaurant
April 10 - Shelling Peas

April 11 - Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Eudora Welty: Some Notes on River Country (copy)

Eudora Welty was born April 13, 1909, in Jackson. To help celebrate her centennial, I am reading her works all during the year. This week I picked up Eudora Welty: Some Notes on River Country.

The book is a reprint of her 1944 essay that first appeared in Harper's Bazaar. This rambling essay starts with the history of River Country—land south of Vicksburg to and including Natchez and the Natchez Trace—then ends with the flora covered landscape of the area. After the essay, readers thumb through a set of 32 photos, most snapped by Welty. These include the ruins of Windsor, the mighty Mississippi River, the ghost town of Rodney, cemeteries, and other River Country landscapes.

The afterword by Hunter Cole gives insight into Welty’s writing through these notes. For example, Cole takes a quote from Welty as told to Dr. Peggy Prenshaw in Conversations with Eudora Welty. Welty said, “Why, just to write about what might happen along some little road like the Natchez Trace—which reaches so far into the past and has been the trail for so many kinds of people—is enough to keep you busy for life.”

Welty kept busy alright. According to Cole, she set her book The Robber Bridegroom and six short stories: A Worn Path, Asphodel, First Love, A Still Moment, Livvie, and At the Landing, in River Country.

Cole continues, “It is known that she read Audubon’s diaries, J.F.H Claiborne’s Mississippi narratives, and Robert M. Coates’s The Outlaw Years: The Land Pirates of the Natchez Trace and wished to verify the history these told.”

It was apparent while reading Welty’s essay that I lack basic Mississippi history. She nonchalantly wrote, “Deep under them both is solid blue clay, embalming the fossil horse and fossil ox and the great mastodon, the same preserving blue clay that was dug up to wrap the head of the Big Harp in bandit days, no less a monstrous thing when carried in for reward.”

What! Yuck! Is this really true and why haven’t I heard of said Harp, Big or Little?

Now I want to know more about the Harps, Mike Fink, Lorenzo Dow, John Murrell, John Law, Aaron Burr, Harmon Blennerhassett, and John James Audubon’s search for the ivory-billed woodpecker in Mississippi thanks to this essay. Maybe I should get busy and add the books Eudora read to my reading list this year, too.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Going Down South (copy)

Olivia Jean liked New York City. She didn’t wanna have to live in a backwater place like Cold Water Springs, Alabama. What would she do with her time? How would she meet kids her age while living far away from town? If it wasn’t for the baby she carried, maybe the prospects of going down south might interests her.

Things had definitely changed in the Stone household. Daisy, her mother, had taken to smoking twice as many Pall Malls than usually, and her father Turk would not speak to her. When entering the kitchen for supper he avoided her eyes. Their once close bond was completely severed as her normal teasing was now met with a scowl.

If it wasn’t for her pregnancy, she might have gone farther in school. Her straight A’s were impressive on a report card. How come she was so stupid when it came to boys? She should have known kissing in the school closet would lead to something, but Preston Douglass was so dreamy. He was like a triple-dark color, almost blue, and his penny loafers carried shiny new pennies instead of old ugly ones.

It didn’t take long for Preston to move on once he got what he got. He avoided Olivia Jean in school, and when they did meet it was Dora he spoke with so friendly like. That was okay. Dora liked him and Olivia Jean had lost his shine. Especially, after she told him she was going to have the baby, but he needn’t apply for a marriage certificate.

Now, she sat in the back of Sally, Turk’s new Chrysler, with her head on the cool glass as they made their way south. It was a cool morning and she was stunned as Daisy leaned back and handed her a small gold ring.

“Here, put this on your ring finger Hon. It will keeps those nosy-bees quiet for a little while. Just long enough for you to have that baby and us get back to normal.” Daisy turned back around, but Olivia Jean knew it would take a lot more than a ring to be normal again.

Set in the 1960s, Going Down South by Bonnie J. Glover focuses on three generations of women as they navigate through debilitating secrets. The book is broken into four distinct parts; Olivia Jean, Daisy, Birdie, and Of One Accord. Readers will marvel at the characters as the story unfolds.

Visit with author Bonnie J. Glover at her active blog.