The South I

I titled this blog post South I because I’m sure I will write about the South many times, lots of ground to cover. The first question that comes to mind about the South is, “Why is all my fiction set in the South?” The obvious answer is that I’m from the South, so I know the South. I was born in southeast Alabama, spent my elementary school years in central Alabama, middle school and high school years in north central Alabama, undergrad years in west central Alabama, and graduate school years in east central Alabama. Growing up, all my relatives lived in Alabama, my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. The South flows in my veins. I have a fairly good understanding of the Southern culture. 

I know and love Southern food. My mom and Mee-maw (my maternal grandmother) were excellent Southern cooks. I was raised on fried chicken, chuck roasts, meatloaf, cream corn, green beans, fried cornbread, ladyfinger peas, fried okra, squash casserole, mashed potatoes and gravy, sliced tomatoes, scalloped potatoes, fried eggplant, eggplant casserole, green onions, chicken and dumplings, hamburgers and hotdogs, grits, country sausage, homemade biscuits, fried catfish, fried porkchops, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, pinto beans, fried potatoes, garden salad, chicken fried steak, grilled steak, baked potatoes, red beans and rice, black-eyed peas, butterbeans, barbeque chicken, and deviled eggs. 

Family is very important for Southerners. I grew up feeling loved and supported by everyone in my family, siblings, parents, grandparents, just all the way down the line. I know all cultures value family; it’s a central part of the human condition, how we hold our societies together. I just know that most Southerners place a huge emphasis on family, the family structure. In the same light, Southerners possess a strong belief in being Southern. The old line that you should write what you know is true. I write stories set in the South because I have a good understanding of the South, which doesn’t mean that all Southerners will agree with my depiction of the South. I’m sure there will be times when the reader will think that a scene, some dialog, characterizations, or actions will ring true, that I got it right, but other times the reader will think I missed by a mile, that there is no way that person would say that, would do that. The details are off, the tone isn’t close to being Southern. I would argue that is the beauty of fiction, of literature, that if it’s any good then there will be different valid interpretations. 

I do know that I would find setting a story in New York or Seattle or Sidney or Paris very difficult to pull off, to make it ring true. I would have to spend time there, talk to people who live there or are from there, read about the area in order to make the story ring true. Such an effort can be done, and done well, but the task would involve lots of work, lots of learning. A similar question is can a man write from a woman’s perspective and vice versa? Can a white man write from a Black woman’s point of view? Can a cisgender person write convincingly from a gay person’s point of view? Yes, of course, but to do it well, to make it ring true would require lots of work, lots of learning, a full openness to different perspectives. There are lots of different ideas to explore concerning the difficulty of this writer’s task, so I’ll save this discussion for another day. However, to bring the discussion back to why I set my stories in the South, it’s because I’m from the South, I know the South. Perhaps more importantly, if a writer can make the characters and story ring true, then the writer can make the characters and story ring universal. Any reader from anywhere in the world will be able to connect with the character and the story. For example, in Franz Kafka’s short novel The Metamorphosis, the main character, Gregor Samsa, can be interpreted as waking up as a cockroach, a beetle, a gigantic insect, or a “dung beetle” as his charwoman describes him. So how did Kafka make Gregor ring true if he is described as not even human? In fact, in a letter to his publisher Kafka prohibited images of Gregor, stating “the insect is not to be drawn.”  The art, the beauty of The Metamorphosis is that Kafka can make the story ring true. We connect with Gregor’s sense of isolation, alienation, sacrifice, and the burden of responsibility. Gregor being described as an insect solidifies his sense of otherness. Kafka makes the reader connect with Gregor as a human being in order to make the story ring true. Doubling down on how Gregor sees himself actually helps the reader see Gregor in this light. Kafka makes the reader connect with Gregor’s sense of humanity.