All over but the Shoutin'

I listened to this. My husband recommended it. I had just finished "Prodigal Summer" by Barbara Kingsolver and was in a southern frame of mind. How life in the south has changed, life in the world.

To plagerized Frank McCourt, what's interesting about a happy childhood? Like Angela's Ashes this is a powerful memoir and a tribute to a mother's love and family. Although Rick Bragg had some supportive family on his momma's side. I also thought of Dorothy Allison and "Bastard Out of Carolina."

I stepped out of my California life during the 60's, 70's, 80's, on...this was not my life, nor the life I often saw depicted on TV or in movies. As a writer I am inspired to keep typing, keep plugging, continue to honor my momma and love my children and fellow human beings...

Well written, provactive and well worth the read (audio).

If you can get only "one book" I implore you to get this one. I cannot remember the last time I cried when I finished a book. I cried for him. I cried for myself. I cried for its truth and his courage in telling it. I cried because it could have been me. I cried because in many ways it was me. Read it and weep. Read it and rejoice. Read it and SHOUT!

This book is the "real-life" story of the strong southern woman, a genre that has been examined in so many great novels. In an unusal twist, this autobiography is told from the perspective of her son instead of the typical southern woman novel which uses a daughter as the narrator. This subtle perspective shift illuminates Bragg's strong but ambigious love for his mother while he struggles into his own manhood.

His writing style is journalistically concise, choosing the precise details to bring this story of poverty and love to full life.
I feel of the grit between his toes and the heart-swelling optimism of mankind.

This novel splits time between two worlds, just like the life of the author. In the first half of the book, Rick Bragg talks about the people with whom he grew up. The title refers to something his father said while dying, but Bragg's reveals quickly that his heart and the spiritual center of this book fall for his mother.

Rick Bragg does not come from the grand stately magnolia scented South of Charleston, Savannah, or New Orleans. He does not come from the hot streets of Memphis and or even Tupelo. He comes from the flat, pine-covered lands along the border of Georgia and Alabama. It is a place that looks to Jacksonville for its fancy goods, where men stand in night air and don't talk, where Bragg says that he often felt shameful for pursuing the craft of his life.

Bragg's craft is journalism. By now, that statement has taken on new meaning. Reading this book after 2003, when he exited journalism under a lot of controversy, it is possible to read everything with a jaded eye. I think that might have been the case with me when I picked this book up at a library sale. The pages grabbed me, though, and the story in these pages is as true as it ever was.

I lived and worked at two newspapers in Alabama. Bragg actually worked at one of those papers. Or maybe, its that I worked at one of the papers where Bragg worked. Because he made a bigger mark than I ever did, for sure! Anyway, his account of the world of Alabama journalism, which begins the second half of the book, is dead on. We were very compelled to chase careers above all else. That sin is something Bragg is very aware of. In fact, it is something that he knows about himself but also something that he regrets about himself.

I remember when Bragg writes about eating fried chicken in his doorman apartment in midtown Manhattan. He knows that he doesn't fit with the place. His career has taken him to Haiti, to the New York Times, to Miami, to a year in Harvard -- but his heart belongs in those same woods.

Although a wonderful writer, Rick Bragg fails to capture much attention in his illustration of his life. In the introduction of the book, a place where captivating the reader is of utmost importance, Bragg uses drawn depictions of what every single person in Alabama does on a regular basis to lull the reader to sleep. Rather than letting action set the scene for the book, he attempts to paint a picture for us with words. In the first paragraph of the book he writes, "It was a place where playing the church piano loud was near as important as playing it right, where fearless, young men steered long, black Buick's...where the first frost meant hog killin' time..." (3) He continues this for the entire first paragraph of the book, only stopping when nothing is left to describe. Finally several pages in, Bragg make use of action to forward the plot of the book, long after many readers have moved onto another book.
Bragg's use of time throughout the book is one of the stronger elements that helped it keep moving. Rather than moving in a strictly chronological order, Bragg pulls scenes from numerous points in his life and strings them together to create a flowing story arch. Bragg does a great job of finding a balance between the main story line of the book that remains in chronological order and flashbacks and fast forwards in time. By adding this twist to the story, Bragg finds a way to liven up the story of his life.
Another thing the Bragg does nicely is end chapters. These chapter endings might be one of the few things that keep readers coming back for more. In one chapter he ends with a song (89) while in another he ends with an exciting twist of events, "I was a murder suspect, for an afternoon." (117). He uses these ends to help propel the story forward, which the rest of his book fails to do.