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"Maybe you're supposed to hold it in longer." It was summer in Indiana, the week before I turned sixteen. All afternoon my friends and I had been on our bikes, following the mosquito truck through the streets, breathing the sweet-smelling clouds of DDT because we'd heard it would get you high.
One glimpse of Dad's steel-blue Oldsmobile Delta 88 in our driveway on a Thursday was enough to bring all the fun screeching to a halt. I waved the boys to go on without me.
My father was a good man- I can say that now, after all these years and everything that happened-but on a day-to-day basis, he was about as fun as Hitler. Dimly I remembered a time when he picked us up in his arms, hugged us, played with us like any other dad. As we got older, though, he turned against us. He had to be hard, he said, to keep us from turning out soft.
His name was Lee Ray Musgrove. He came from a poor Alabama family of Musgroves who went all the way broke in the Depression. Dad never got over how poor they used to be. The Depression always loomed over our family like a dark thundercloud, a certain promise of doom just beyond the horizon.
Every Monday at four a.m. Dad would arise to eat his lonely bowl of Wheat Chex, check hislist of sales calls, and head out to keep that thundercloud at bay for one more week. Monday to Friday he was a traveling salesman, the jolliest most hardworking devoted salesman in the history of TriDex, District Salesmanager of the Year three years in a row, a good smile, a nice word for everybody. All week he saved up his anger, all the slights and disappointments and frustrations of a salesman's life, and on Friday nights he brought it all home to us.
But now he was home on a Thursday. This was different. At our house, different was never good.
I managed to stow my bike in the garage without making a sound. The back door squealed and gave me away. His growl from the family room: "Get in here. Where have you been?"
When Dad used that voice, he didn't want an answer. I crept into the room. The whole family was gathered around the TV but the set was turned off. This must be some really bad news.
I eased myself down between Bud and Janie on the sofa. They all looked so somber I thought someone must have died.
"All present and accounted for," Dad said. "Okay, here's the big announcement. I got a transfer. We're moving again."
I tingled all over, as if my body had gone to sleep for an instant. A transfer. TriDex transferred its salesmen every year or two, to keep them on their toes. Indiana was our sixth transfer in ten years. TriDex did not know or care that this was my favorite of all the places we had lived. Lately I'd been hoping we might get to stay here. I loved Indiana. I had lots of friends. It was flat, you could ride your bike everywhere. In the winter it froze hard and snowed a lot, so you could stay inside and watch TV all the time.
I waded into the rising silence: "Moving where?" "Mississippi," said Dad, "and I don't want any lip out of you." "Aw now, Lee, don't say it that way." Mom interposed herself between Dad by the sliding glass door and us on the sofa. "Y'all, this is big news for Daddy - for all of us, really. You know how bad I been wanting to get closer to Granny and Jacko ... and you know how I hate the winters up here."
That was true. Mom was a flower of the South. Her feet had been cold since the first time Dad moved her away from Alabama.
"Are you nuts?" Bud said. "We can't move now, Mom. I just made varsity." Bud was a wrestler. Dad was proud of the fact that Bud wrestled so hard he puked after every match.
"Aw now, Bud, come on, it's a better territory for Daddy," said Mom, "and anyway we haven't got a choice, so let's just go on and be happy about it."
"You all can go, I don't care, I'm staying," said Bud. "I'm a senior this fall, Mom, we can't move to - where did you say? Mississippi? That's the dumbest thing I ever heard!"
Bud took my breath away saying things like that, things that would have got me backhanded and sent to my room. Dad darkened and loomed in his corner, but stayed silent. Bud looked like Dad, and Dad respected him for that.
"Okay Bud, you stay here," Mom said with a desperate smile. "Who's gonna cook your supper and wash your dirty clothes?" "If Buddy's staying I wanna stay," Janie said.
"Nobody's staying," said Mom. "We know how to move, we've done it plenty of times. The movers will be here Monday morning bright and early to start packing."
Bud got up and slammed down the hall to his room BANG! "I'll be dog," said my father. "I'll be god dog, that boy ..." "Now Lee," Mom said, "don't start."
"Start what? Don't you start." "I told you they'll need some time, honey. Of course they're not gonna be happy at first - having to go off from all their little friends." She turned anxious eyes on Janie and me. "I promise, you'll like it down there. You'll make new friends. Daddy's found us a beautiful house in the country. The schools are supposed to be great."
I mustered up a sneer. "Yeah, I bet. Mississippi?" I'd never been there, but I knew all about it from the evening news. Mississippi was last in everything you could measure. There was nothing down there but redneck sheriffs and protesting Negroes and civil rights workers buried in earthen dams.
"There's nothing wrong with Mississippi," Mom said. "It's nice and warm, for one thing, and at least the people will understand me when I talk."
"What if we don't want to go?" I said. "Why do we have to?" "Daddy's got a new territory." She fingered a sheaf of honey-gold hair from her eyes. "A smaller territory, so he won't have to be gone so much." She turned smiling, but Dad's eyes were narrowed down, fixed on me, waiting for one word that would give him the right to come over there and strangle me.
"Mississippi is the Magnolia State," Janie read from the World Book. "The capital is Jackson. The products are cotton, lumber, poultry, and cattle."
"Good, Janie," said Mom. "I told you those books would come in handy."
Mom was trying to sell this as a big promotion for Dad, but I knew better. I was almost sixteen, I knew everything. I read their mail, I went through their filing cabinet. I read the life insurance policy and thrilled at how rich we kids would be if they died. Many nights I had heard my father god-dogging the name of Larry Semple, his district manager. I knew that a smaller territory in Mississippi had to be a comedown from a three-state sales district based in Indiana. I knew just where to stick in the knife. "Why does he have a smaller territory?"
A subterranean vibration from Dad's side of the room, a trembling of air.
Janie preened for the invisible camera that always followed her around. "Well, I'm glad we're moving," she announced. "I hate this place too, Mama. It's cold. And I want to live closer to Granny."
"Attagirl," Mom said. "The power of positive thinking." I coughed the word "suck-up" into my hand. "Mom! He called me a suck-up!" "I did not. I coughed. Can't a person even cough?"
On Monday we watched the movers load our things onto a giant orange tractor-trailer from Allied Van Lines. On Tuesday we set out down the brand-new interstate highway toward our future. We drove all day, into the late afternoon. South of Memphis we hit a bump that banged my cheek against the glass. The four-lane highway had become a broken two-lane. A sign said
WELCOME TO MISSISSIPPI
The land flattened out and got wide. At first glance it looked like Indiana again: green flat fields running off to the horizon, fence lines and grain elevators in the blue distance. But instead of neat Midwestern farmhouses I saw tarpaper shacks, poor black folks on the porches: skinny kids in rags, stooped old men in straw hats. Occasionally a mansion peeked out of a huge grove of oaks - a Greek temple with columns, white and impressively hidden.
Mom said, "Can you imagine living in a house like that? I would feel just like Scarlett."
"Mama," said Janie, "that girl hasn't got on a shirt." "Don't stare, Jane. People can't help it if they're not as well off as us."
"Hmp." My father scratched his neck. "Anybody's willing to work can get along these days. Not like we had it in the Depression." "They let her just run around without a shirt?" Janie threw herself against the seat to watch the girl receding in the rear window. "She's as old as me."
"Well, it's hot down here, honey," said Mom. "I'm sure she has a nice shirt she wears all the time."
In our air-conditioned car we were almost chilly, but beyond the glass you could see waves of heat rising up from the road and the fields. Even flashing by at sixty-five miles an hour, you could see sweat on people's faces.
"Oh heavenly days," Mom said, "it's so good to be home. Let's just open up and see how she feels." She cranked down her window. In an instant, every ounce of cool air was sucked out and replaced with this blast of summer air - a hot, wet slap in the face. We hollered and moaned until Mom rolled the window back up.
She grinned. "Hot! Just like I like it." Now that we were back in the South, Mom's accent had kicked in - the thickest sweetest south-Alabama accent you ever heard. Just lack I lack it!
"I am never going outside again - never," said Bud. "This house better have dang good air-conditioning."
"Oh, you'll be seeing plenty of outside," Dad assured him. "You boys got a world of grass to cut."
"It's a country place, y'all," Mom said. "It's out from town, so it's got all the peace and quiet you'd ever want, and a great big old yard. I can't wait to put in some azaleas. They'll be blooming when Indiana is still up to their eyeballs in snow."
"Nobody knows if the stupid school even has a wrestling team," Bud said.
"I'm sure if they don't, they have something just as good," said Mom. "They practically invented football down here." "I hate football," said Bud.
"Don't let anybody down here hear you say that," Dad said. "I mean it, Bud."
"Mommy, I'm hungry," said Janie. "Well you weren't twenty minutes ago, when we had lunch." Mom rattled the Kroger sack. "What you want, honey? Peanut butter, or there's still one ham and cheese."
"Peanut butter but take off the crust." "The crust is the best part," said Dad.
Dad was not just saying this to make Janie eat the crust. This was the thing about Dad: not only was the crust good enough for Dad, he considered it the best part. He liked the neck of the chicken on Sunday. He liked leftover corn pone with cracklins, served cold, with turnip greens, for breakfast. He liked food that tasted like when he was poor.
He squinted into the distance at the long line of cars backed up in our lane - a traffic jam in the middle of nowhere, stretching around the next curve. "Would you look at this?" He blew out a sigh as if all these cars had stopped way out here just to get on his nerves. He folded his hands behind his neck, cracked his shoulder joints. "Come on, people," he said, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "We got miles to go."
We idled behind an old station wagon from Kentucky, overflowing with kids who stuck out their tongues at us and smeared their dirty feet on the windows. You could just smell the misery rolling off that car. The parents were shrunk down in the front seat, ignoring everything to the best of their ability.
"Thank God we had just the three," said Dad. Mom smiled. "Amen to that." "You guys," Bud said. "Thanks a lot."
"Take a look at that car, boy," said Dad. "That right there is as good an argument for birth control as you'll ever see." "Lee."
Janie said, "What's birth control?" "Now see what you started?"
"It's a way of making sure you don't take on more than you can handle." Dad laid his hand on the horn to join the chorus. Across a flat field I saw a column of black smoke rising behind a wall of pines. "Hey Dad, something's burning."
He looked where I was pointing. "You know you may be right, it's a durn house afire, and all these people are just rubbernecking." He pounded the horn. "Get a move on! Didn't you ever see a fire before?" The guy with all the children honked too, and waved his fist out the window.
That was something large and on fire, sending up rolling clouds of black smoke and flashes of flame. The people in front of us began three-point-turning their cars, driving past us. Mom said, "Everybody's going the other way."
Dad coasted forward one car length. "It would take you twice as long, time you went around." He fiddled with the radio, settling on an old flat-voiced man giving a farm report.
"Your soybeans is headed up again, and your cotton holding steady as she goes," the man said. "All you boys out spraying today, this report is brought to you by the good people of TriDex Chemical, We Know What Bugs You."
My father said, "Hey hey!" and turned up the volume. "Listen to that. Just got here and already talking about us on the radio."
"That's a good sign," said Mom. "It's like a welcome. I tell you, Lee, this is all going to work out for the best."
More people were giving up, turning around, heading the other way.
We crept around the bend. Now we could see it was not a house burning but something in the road, hidden by the rise just ahead. State trooper cars flashed blue lights. Troopers in wide-brimmed hats waved traffic off the highway.
"Heck of an accident," Dad said. "Must be a tanker truck, way it's burning."
"That's cool," said Bud. "It's not 'cool,' Bud," Mom said. "Someone might be hurt." "No, but I mean look at it burn," Bud said. "Don't get too close, Daddy. I don't want to see any burned people."
"Don't worry, Janie. Neither do I." Now we could see it was a tractor-trailer jackknifed, sprawled on its side across both lanes. A crowd of firemen and state troopers stood at a healthy distance, watching the fire- a huge orange toy, broken and burning, pouring fire from the cab and the split-open trailer.
Two men in gray uniforms stood off to one side. One of them bent over with his hands on his knees, as if he was about to throw up. It took me a moment to think, Hey I know that guy, and to flash a picture of where I'd seen him: yesterday, closing the doors of the Allied Van Lines truck at our house in Indiana.
"Hey Dad," I said, "that's the guy who put our stuff on the truck." "What?"
"That guy, there! Isn't he the guy from Allied?" And then it dawned on me why our driver was standing there with those state troopers beside the burning wreck. The wreck was his truck. Our truck.
Dad steered the Oldsmobile onto the grassy bank. He switched off the engine, rolled down his window, folded his hands on the wheel. Hot acrid air filled the car. We heard the popping and crackling, the rifle-shot of aerosol cans exploding, a deep monstrous underneath sound, like a beast sucking air.
Janie said, "Why did we stop?" "You idiot!" I cried. "Don't you get it? That's our stuff!" "What do you mean our stuff."
"Children." I shiver to remember the silvery calm of Mom's voice. "I don't want to hear another word."
A trooper came bowlegging down the hill toward us. "Folks," he said, "I'm gone have to ask you-all to just move on along."
My father's neck turned very red, as if he'd been sunburned suddenly. I could not see his face, but the sight of it was enough to back the trooper up a step.
"Come on now," he said. "Y'all had your look, let's move on along now."
My father did not speak. He just stared at the man. "Sir? Maybe you didn't hear what I said."
My mother leaned across the seat. "Officer, that truck is from Allied Van Lines, isn't it?" "Why, yes ma'am, it is."
"Well see, I'm Peggy Musgrove, and this is my husband Lee? And the thing is, I do believe those are our belongings on that truck."
"Hm." The man's face didn't change. "Y'all movin' down this way?"
"Yes, sir, we were," Mom said, in a voice that probably sounded chipper to him, but seemed to me one note short of a scream. "Well, I hate to be the one to tell you, ma'am, but I don't think you're gone be able to save too much out of that." He indicated the conflagration with a little wave of his hand, as if maybe we hadn't noticed it. "Could you ask your husband to come up here and talk to us a minute?"
"I don't think he is able, right now," Mom said. "Would it be all right if I came in his place?"
Bud opened his door. "I'll go with you, Mom." "Me too," I said.
"Bud, you come. Daniel, you and Janie stay here with Daddy." She glanced at her hair in the mirror and got out, smoothing her skirt. I had often seen our mother rise to one occasion or the other, but I've never seen her rise as she rose that afternoon. She marched with Bud up among all those troopers and stood answering their questions as if she had practiced for just such an occasion.
Excerpted from One Mississippi by Mark Childress Copyright © 2006 by Mark Childress. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Posted May 29, 2008
To judge from the reviews of other readers, I would say that a lot of people just don't like chocolate with their peanut butter. Or comedy with their tragedy. It's true that this book mixes the two in sometimes unsettling ways - but isn't that what all the best books do? Keep you off guard, laughing one moment, ready to cry the next? I enjoy authors who do that -- like John Irving, Wally Lamb, Anne Tyler. And Mark Childress
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Posted July 25, 2006
One Mississippi is a fictional story that took place over four decades ago, but still has relevance in today's time. Its a coming of age story that tugs at your heart and keeps you hook until the very end. A Great summer read on those hot summer nights. It takes you to a place where you feel good inside. As I started to read the book, finishing within a week, I was personally drawn to the trials and tribulations of the two main characters, Daniel and Tim, faced while in high school. Join then when Daniel Musgrove's father is relocated from Indiana to Minor, Miss., in 1973. In a new School, Daniel feels out of place, until he meets a kindred spirit, Tim Cousins, whose motto is 'Everything is funny all the time,' - Even until the very end. The two become the best of friends and bond over Sonny and Cher Show - they even go to a concert. The boys decided to double date on prom night and on the way home, they accidentally run over Arnita Beecham, The school's first black prom queen, the boys flee, letting Red Martin, the school bully take the fall. When Arnita wakes up from her coma, she believes that she is a white girl named Linda. Daniel fails in love with Arnita makes Tim extremely jealous and puts their year long secret at risk. The author really did his research when making cross-references to other prominent fictional characters (Gone with the Wind - Mammy and Scarlett, Ethel Merman, and Sonny and Cher) Although the book did end with the demise of Tim, my favorite character, overall it was an enjoyable read. This book kept me up at night and kept me laughing on the way to work. In the end when Tim said 'How can one person be so alone when there are three billion people on the planet? I didn't want three billion people, Just you' That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I started crying. I have never read anything since Memoirs of a Geisha, that has touch me as this story has. I definitely recommend that you pick up this book and step back in time to a place where innocents is lost and one best friend is all you need. Its so worth it.
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Posted June 26, 2013
Posted April 10, 2013
Posted January 7, 2013
The opening paragraphs of this novel do what a good opening to a novel is supposed to do – draw the reader in and let them know what they are about to read without giving the story away. In its opening scene, One Mississippi shows a group of 15-year-old boys spending an afternoon “following the mosquito truck through the streets, breathing the sweet-smelling clouds of DDT because we’d heard it would get you high.” p. 3. The message – no matter how sweetly it may smell, poison is still deadly. Mr. Childress spends the next 382 pages concocting a deadly brew that is often hilariously sweet and, in so doing, making the poison all more bitter.
Just as Daniel Musgrove is about to enter his junior year of high school, his father is transferred from Indiana to Minor, Mississippi, about 10 miles from Jackson. Already deeply troubled, the move succeeds in deepening the chasms in the family. The book is told from the first person point-of-view of Daniel, is set in 1974 the first year of forced integration of schools, a reality that gives the outsider Daniel reason to feel all the more isolated. The reader experiences the hilarity of Daniel’s Junior Prom (the images of his Tuxedo are worth at least two readings) and is blindsided as is Daniel when the night ends in ways that are life-changing for many in attendance at the prom. The next six months of Daniel’s life is filled with the confusion, danger, pleasant surprises, unexpected discoveries and meanness one remembers from high school and that does nothing to alleviate the tragedy of that April night.
I was much looking forward to reading the book. Reading Mr. Childress previously has been a delight and his writing skills have only improved in the interim of my previous reading of this author. The sharpness of his characters, with the vividness of his description of the story’s setting gives this book the breath of live. His ability to magnify the teenage angst without making it cliché is a gift not given to many authors. By the end of the book, I was grieving having to say farewell to the Musgrove family, celebrating a bit of good fortune for Daniel and vaguely depressed at what I had just “gone through” in the process of being so deeply attached to this tale.
The book contains violence of various kinds – the most painful being the emotional abuse teenagers heap upon the weaker in their midst so aptly described. There are moments of a sexual nature and graphic sexual language within its pages as well. I read this book in four days of a very busy week – this was due to my taking every available moment to read it. Even when I knew I did not want to see what was next, I could not keep from turning the next page. What more can be said of how well this book is written.
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Posted July 18, 2012
Posted March 20, 2012
It started out good then it went down hill. The people where all very strange. I also do not need to read about a school shooting. Terrible book cant believe it got good reviews.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted December 15, 2011
Posted July 23, 2011
Comedy and tragedy blends for a wonderful read. I have never been disappointed by Mark Childress. He always captures the southern soul and conflict in his writing.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted March 24, 2011
Surprise surpise surprise! In my Gommer Pyle voice! Nothing is ever what it expects to be.This book was more than what I thought it was goin to be. It was truely a surprising story. Although there were some dry mind numbing parts that went on a bit long,it was well worth it, once it got going. I could'nt stop talking about it. Almost 5 stars if not for the dry parts.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 16, 2011
This tale of growing up as an outcast is really outstanding. Comidic, dark and addicting. Within a few short pages you will be in love with these characters and wishing the world wasn't such a cruel mistress.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 16, 2009
Have you ever counted One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mississippi? Well, I have and this is why I picked up the book. Story was great could not put down, great summer read. Would be looking for more book by author, liked his style of writing.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 9, 2009
This is classic Southern fiction again by Childress. As lyrical as a nursery rhyme, the story unfolds with unexpected and tragically funny sidetrips. Right when you think you have something figured out, guess again. Don't try to second guess the routing of the trip you're about to take with Childress to a different time and place.
The characters are easy to identify with. I don't if this makes them human, real, or just well written. I could feel some of the dialogue. Brilliant writing about an almost unbelievable tale in a place you think you know, but you really don't.
Sit back with a cool lemonade and a fly swatter. You'll be on the porch a long time enjoying this one!
Posted February 3, 2009
One Mississippi - Mark Childress<BR/>> <BR/>> I would NEVER have picked up this book to read it on my own. It just <BR/>> isn't the kind of book I enjoy. However, once read, it is now a book <BR/>> a recommend to EVERYONE, it was so amazingly excellent. It is a MUST <BR/>> read for EVERYONE!<BR/>> <BR/>> <BR/>> <BR/>> A white Yankee is transplanted to the black south. Daniel is a high <BR/>> school junior and moving is simply a way of life for his family. The <BR/>> family of three kids and two parents do what is best for daddy and <BR/>> whatever his job dictates. Daniel and his family are not accustom to <BR/>> the prejudices of the south, being from the north, folks are folks no <BR/>> matter their color. So the culture shock is a bit uncomfortable for <BR/>> this family.<BR/>> <BR/>> Daniel's theory is "you only need one best friend to make it though <BR/>> high school" and Tim is his. The two are up to antics that will split <BR/>> your sides. Until one night, the unthinkable happen and the damage <BR/>> grown a life of it's own. Upsetting an entire town and the lives of <BR/>> all who live there. In the end Daniels dad finally does the one <BR/>> unselfish act of his life and thinks of Daniel...it's a pager turner <BR/>> from the beginning with twist and turns and antics to keep you going <BR/>> for days to follow.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted October 9, 2008
One Mississippi, published in 2007, by Mark Childress is a twisting story that not only engulfs the reader but makes you look into your action and consequences more deeply. A Little, Brown & Company book, One Mississippi tells the story of a high-school-aged boy and his struggle to fit into a new culture. This is a tantalizing tale that is sure to be a favorite read for anyone. Torn from his Indian home, Daniel Musgrove strives to find his place in the small Mississippi town of Minor. Daniel wishes that he could escape like his older brother who joins the military the day he turns 18. Instead, Daniel is forced to stay in Minor, mowing the never-ending lawn and hanging out with his only friend, Tim Cousins. But Daniels life quickly goes down hill when he is in the middle of supposedly vicious crime and tragedy after tragedy hits his family. He tries to find solace in his only friend until Tim suddenly starts acting strange and commits an act that the town of Minor never thought it would see. I liked Childress¿s writing style and the information that appeared about the 1960¿s. He did not jump around or do a lot of back tracking. Once I started reading, it was hard to put down. A deep, twisting tale that tells the perils of being a teen ager in the `60¿s and how one boy manages to survive it all. The book will leave an imprint in your mind. Childress¿s work will leave you stunned and begging for more. I enjoyed Childress¿s book so much that I read one of his other books, Crazy in Alabama.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
One Mississippi, published in 2007, by Mark Childress is a twisting story that not only engulfs the reader but makes you look into your action and consequences more deeply. A Little, Brown & Company book, One Mississippi tells the story of a high-school-aged boy and his struggle to fit into a new culture. This is a tantalizing tale that is sure to be a favorite read for anyone. <BR/><BR/> Torn from his Indian home, Daniel Musgrove strives to find his place in the small Mississippi town of Minor. Daniel wishes that he could escape like his older brother who joins the military the day he turns 18. Instead, Daniel is forced to stay in Minor, mowing the never-ending lawn and hanging out with his only friend, Tim Cousins. But Daniels life quickly goes down hill when he is in the middle of supposedly vicious crime and tragedy after tragedy hits his family. He tries to find solace in his only friend until Tim suddenly starts acting strange and commits an act that the town of Minor never thought it would see. I liked Childress¿s writing style and the information that appeared about the 1960¿s. He did not jump around or do a lot of back tracking. Once I started reading, it was hard to put down. <BR/><BR/> A deep, twisting tale that tells the perils of being a teen ager in the `60¿s and how one boy manages to survive it all. The book will leave an imprint in your mind. Childress¿s work will leave you stunned and begging for more. I enjoyed Childress¿s book so much that I read one of his other books, Crazy in Alabama.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 23, 2008
Starts out funny with interesting characters and situations, then turns into a very dark, sad book but still with some comedy thrown in which didn't fit anymore. Too many unbelievable situations (house explosions, car explosions, etc.) which also didn't work with the book's 'Danny's just a regular kid' feel. A letdown, especially after reading 'Crazy In Alabama'.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted March 15, 2008
this is one of the best books ive read in awhile and now everyone at my job is reading it i let one woman read it and now its getting passed around and everone is reading it, its a great book so if your wondering about it you should get it you wont be sorry...Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted March 26, 2007
With a sharp eye and keen understanding of the many forces afoot in Mississippi in the early 70s, Childress has brought his considerable talents to bear in this telling of one boy's odyssey from naive acceptance to a strong sense of self. In particular, I laughed till my belly hurt when reading the chapters about a home-grown church musical production and the hero's misbegotten trip to the prom. A great read! Highly recommended!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 24, 2007
After LOVING his book, 'Crazy in Alabama' (which was so wonderfully crafted), this was very disappointing. Sucks you in at first, but by the end it's exhausting to read. Constant arguing with his friend, girlfriend, family. The ending was wrapped up too quickly and terribly cliched. An easy read with no real substance.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.