Flannery O�Conner �Three by Flannery O�Conner�
This was another gift from a co-worker after I wrote about not having many books written by females. She gave this to me about two years ago.
But hell, what do you expect? It�s an anthology of three different books, meaning that I have to read the equivalent of three books, but it�s only going to count as one.
This is not good time management.
So, Flannery O�Conner, quoting from the back cover, is a �strong, fiercely comic� writer steeped in the southern rhythm, ala Faulkner, whom I haven�t read. In the 26 page introduction, Sally Fitzgerald harps on this point a lot.
You know when you need 26 pages to discuss a writer�s style, you�re in for a tough read, right?
But the thing is, O�Conner really isn�t hard to read. But it�s so incredibly dated in its presentation that it�s no longer funny. Making fun of drunk southern preachers may be good fodder for Hee Haw, but it�s hardly comic genius in this day and age. That�s what the introduction seemed to be trying to put across. �No really! This is funny stuff! See, if you put it in context with the time it was written, you can see how Buddy Epson and Jerry Lewis found their niche!�
For this we should be grateful?
Like I said, there were three books converged into one for this book. The first two Wise Blood and for The Violent Bear It Away, were so similar that O�Conner, if she were still alive, could easily make formulaic teen sex comedies � if said sex comedies were set in the South and featured a preacher. The final book, Everything that Rises Must Converge, a title that ensures hilarity and hijinks, turns out to be a group of short stories.
Her short stories are better, but not by much. No wonder the South lost.
Here�s hoping it doesn�t rise again.
