Southern Inhospitality

Books: Georgia Bottoms

Warning: Spoilers ahead!

So I guess there is a sub-genre of literature that can be called "Southern Lit". Everything from the Sookie Stackhouse books (I am an avid fan) to books by Joshilyn Jackson, Rebecca Walker, and Fannie Flagg, to more classic fare such as Flannery O'Conner and Thomas Wolfe. These books "take the pulse" of the South and capture the sultry heat, the slow pace of life, and the less savory aspects of the culture of Dixie.



Georgie Bottoms falls squarely into this category. Mark Childress made his name as an author of southern sensibilities with his 1994 novel Crazy in Alabama (since made into a movie starring Melanie Griffith) and more recently with One Mississippi in 2007. I expected to like Georgia Bottoms a lot, and indeed, I was entertained. But the characters are so loathsome in their selfish, two-faced, mind-bogglingly racist attitudes that it was hard to  care for, let alone identify with a single character. I wonder if Childress was simply making a blanket statement about Southerners--that they are liars, hypocrites, and so self-absorbed that Scarlett O'Hara herself would be shocked. But it seems that Childress, a Southerner himself, would be able to paint a more sympathetic--or at least nuanced--portrait of small-town Southern life. Or maybe Childress was just trying to create a main character and secondary characters that were realistic and far from saintly. I'm not sure.

Georgia Bottoms is the name of the main character. She is a Southern lady of a certain age (mid-thirties), unmarried, beautiful, and living in the small town of Six Points, Alabama. In order to get by, Georgia has not one, not, two, not three--but SIX beaus (one for every day of the week, except Monday) who she entertains in exchange for "small gifts, freely given". When one of these men, the Baptist minister Eugene Hendrix, threatens to expose Georgia, she must do everything she can to keep her affairs private, or risk losing her livelihood--and her reputation.

The book has strange pacing. It begins in September of 2001, when Georgia's annual September luncheon is ruined by some business in New York City with some buildings falling down. Everyone is glued to their televisions and Georgia honestly wonders why everyone cares so much about these people in New York--these yankees--more than her luncheon. Selfish, yes, but I can relate. My first thought after I heard the news on 9/11 was that I hoped we'd get out of school early. It wasn't until much later that the gravity of the day's events sunk in.

Then the book suddenly skips to 2005. Georgia's life really is about to be blown apart by the arrival of a young, black man on Georgia's doorstop. This young man, as the reader can guess early on, is Georgia's half-black son she gave birth to when she was still a teenager. She never told anyone, and although she sent money to the boy's grandmother every month, she wanted no contact. A white lady with a secret black son would be quite a scandal even in 2005. This plot line is the meat of the book, and I have to say, I was put off by the barrage of racism. Georgia is decent to her son, despite abandoning him as a baby, but her attitude towards blacks is incredibly condescending. After her failed September luncheon, Georgia drives around town, looking to give all the food she prepared away. She tries to give the food to Madeline Roudy, a black pediatrician, whom she did not invite to the luncheon for fear of upsetting her extremely racist mother (Georgia's mother, not Madeline's). Of course, Madeline is incredulous at Georgia attempting to give her the uneaten food--and Georgia, for the life of her, doesn't understand why Madeline is so ungracious!

Later in the book, Georgia's mother, who is suffering the early stages of dementia, continually calls Nathan, Georgia's son, the n-word and threatens him with a pellet gun. I was thinking to myself, "is this really how the deep south is?" I've been assured by people who have lived in parts of Mississippi and Alabama that yes, this is the way it is--at least for certain small towns and certain generations of people. Ugh. The racism, sexism, and downright fear of anything "outside" the confines of the small town was layered on so thick, I thought the book was almost a parody of southern life. But I think Childress is attempting to lovingly criticize the culture he was born into. For me (and I'm no prejudice-free saint myself), it was off-putting.

Georgia Bottoms is a quick and entertaining read--however, I expected it to be fun, hilarious, and light-hearted. With the cruel, small-minded characters (a few of whom learn lessons, but for the most part don't change), I couldn't really find anything to laugh about.

3 out of 5 stars