What is ‘Southern Gothic’ (to me)?
6th Grade Lit.
As a kid in the 6th grade, I discovered Flannery O’Connor. My world has gotten nothing but better since then. O’Connor had a profound impact on me, still does. I wanted to write not only about why, but why I feel that is important for me.
Are we really talking about villains here?
The richness of O’Connor’s postbellum society was in what she didn’t say as well as the words typed. Imagine The Great Depression. Walker Evans, a famous photographer of The Great Depression, noted, “No wonder Southerners are intimidated by their own landscape.” If you don’t know The American South, you might not be familiar with the endless things here. Endless heat, endless flat land, endless ignorance, endless hate, endless poverty. O’Connor put everyone on the same playing field in that the villains didn’t seem so bad, and the “good guys” didn’t seem so good. I think in survival situations across all humanity, Flannery O’Connor nailed a truth about human nature, in this regard. I mean, what do you do if you are going to die? How do you live? Does someone get hurt in the process? What’s their story? Do they deserve to live less than you? Flannery O’Connor started this line of thought in me at 6th grade. And it hasn’t let up yet.
Lots of Church.
In traditional Gothic Literature, you might have castles, even decaying ones. In Southern Gothic Lit, you got decaying plantations. You have high society, as best it can hold out in Southern Gothic Lit too. But you also have a lot of poverty. Church seems to linger in the air on some stories I have read. Anytime someone is talking, you just know there’s a cross somewhere, like grandma’s house.
I am not a fan of church, religion, spirituality, or beliefs. But I don’t have to be with this genre. The Southern Gothic genre has no more reverence for religion than I do. It’s just part of the set. But for folks like me who know, it’s also a big part of the trauma. By not treating the church as the guidepost in the narrative, it frees me up to examine it for what it is, an oppressor. I like literature that accommodates me in that way. Not a lot does. Plenty, I am not hurting, but still not a lot in comparison. I often find myself in situations where folks want me to practice tolerance or be nice. They don’t know my history with religion and are telling me to “shut up” essentially. That doesn’t help them in my eyes. Southern Gothic stories say, “we got you.”
The hypocrisy, come on. You got to see that shit.
My first O’Connor novel back when I was in 6th grade was called “Wise Blood.” That main character’s name was Hazel Motes (fabulous name). Hazel Motes founded an anti-religion. He claimed “The Church of Christ without Christ.” Now, in yelling about his new church, Hazel Motes desperately seeks redemption. But if you are the kind of person in need of redemption, you might be the kind of person in need of Christ. They’re both religions. They’re both taught. A meerkat doesn’t wake up on the warm grass and start looking for forgiveness. It’s a man-made construct. Even though Flannery O’Connor herself was religious, she was most certainly no dummy.
Her stories are loaded with pious or intelligent folks who succumb to temptations or bad behavior. In one story called “The Geranium,” an early one of hers, a man tries to teach his barber a lesson in civility and ends up getting violent himself. This one story has taught me more about dealing with obstinate-natured people than any class. It’s pointless.
There’s a grandma in her most popular story, “A Good Man is Hard to Find” who is a perfect image of many seniors I knew growing up in the South. They were religious, claiming to be morally upright with their racial slurs. They held a bias against poor folks even though they had been poor most of their lives, and might even be poor now. This grandma lied, pleaded for her life, and ratting kids out. She was a real bitch, good riddance.
The swamp, it sinks.
What you have for the backdrop of all this goofy religion and oppression is a sinking southern plantation. At one time, this place was hustle and bustle and good for about 10 people. That world is now overgrown and sinking in the swamp. The leveling of the field that does for folks trying to survive is fascinating to me. It makes me want to throw my computer in the swamp. I’d like to slowly observe it sinking into the earth, never to be dug up. An ugly chapter in history, not just American history. Slavery and oppression are a worldwide human issue. Everyone with a computer or phone faces it.
Make that sink too. If you are the praying type, good prayer there. I don’t see how it happens otherwise. This also makes the roots of characters murky. This is an important feature. Much of Southern Gothic suspense and intrigue comes when someone’s past is revealed. I won’t say it’s a trope, but it is there. But you have to understand, these were not safe times. Who you were in a past life might not be safe in this one. While it may be common in the novels, it comes by it honestly. It was most certainly common in real life in the postbellum South. The swamp gives by its sinking. In many’s cases, it was the gift of a secret identity.
I get novels, but what about movies, music?
I have a few songs I put out that folks used the term, “southern gothic” to categorize. Review outlets have done it, folks at shows have done it, and even close friends. It isn’t just me. Folks feel “Southern Gothic” when they hear songs like “15 Years” or “Smoke and Mud.” I love that. I feel like I came across it. I don’t know if I think it is an official music category. It seems very much a literary one to me; however, I love that vibe. I know what they mean. And I love that they said that. It’s like saying to a musician, “you read Flannery too?” All about that.
Movies, I get it. I mean, “To Kill a Mockingbird” is not only a southern gothic novel by Harper Lee, it’s a fabulous southern gothic film too. The modern version, “A Time to Kill,” doesn’t come close, but it is still the same genre.
Hop aboard the SG train.
I welcome everything into the southern gothic category that fits. It means awareness to me. It means friends are all in agreement, can we please not go back there? Let’s just enjoy the fiction.
Kelly Kintner, Editor