“A born storyteller.”—The New York Times Book Review
The Whole Town's Talking: A Novelby Fannie Flagg
Elmwood Springs, Missouri, is a small town like any other, but something strange is happening at the cemetery. Still Meadows, as it’s called, is anything but still. Original,/b>/i>
The bestselling author of Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe is at her superb best in this fun-loving, moving novel about what it means to be truly alive.
Elmwood Springs, Missouri, is a small town like any other, but something strange is happening at the cemetery. Still Meadows, as it’s called, is anything but still. Original, profound, The Whole Town’s Talking, a novel in the tradition of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town and Flagg’s own Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven, tells the story of Lordor Nordstrom, his Swedish mail-order bride, Katrina, and their neighbors and descendants as they live, love, die, and carry on in mysterious and surprising ways.
Lordor Nordstrom created, in his wisdom, not only a lively town and a prosperous legacy for himself but also a beautiful final resting place for his family, friends, and neighbors yet to come. “Resting place” turns out to be a bit of a misnomer, however. Odd things begin to happen, and it starts the whole town talking.
With her wild imagination, great storytelling, and deep understanding of folly and the human heart, the beloved Fannie Flagg tells an unforgettable story of life, afterlife, and the remarkable goings-on of ordinary people. In The Whole Town’s Talking, she reminds us that community is vital, life is a gift, and love never dies.
“A born storyteller.”—The New York Times Book Review
Best known for Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café, Flagg routinely turns out hits; 2013's The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion has sold 405,000 copies across formats. In Elmwood Springs, MO, townsfolk who die wake up once they are buried and convene amiably with friends and family. But, puzzlingly, some of the dead simply vanish.
The history of a Midwestern town founded by Swedish immigrants, including both lives and afterlives, from 1889 to 2021.“Over the years, the mail-order bride business had been fraught with pitfalls and disappointments.” Not this time. The big, ambitious Swede Lordor Nordstrom and the nearsighted little wife who answers his ad fall quickly, madly in love. Lordor goes on to start a family, to incorporate Elmwood Springs, Missouri, and become its mayor, and also to donate a panoramic parcel of land for its community cemetery. And then he dies. “Shortly after the funeral, the strangest thing happened. Lordor Nordstrom woke up.” Turns out, after people die, they remain as spirits in the cemetery, at least for a while; at a certain point the souls disappear from the gossipy spirit kaffeeklatsch for parts to be revealed. As this tale winds through the decades and generations, two communities flourish, one of the living and one of the dead. Flagg (The All-Girl Filling Station’s Last Reunion, 2013, etc.) does a clever job of tracking her clan of interconnected families through the decades, including a drive-by from Bonnie and Clyde, a visit from Harry Truman, four different wars, the birth and death of downtown, and finally modern plagues including drugs, unemployment, and deaths from texting. There’s even a murder mystery woven in, the untimely and suspicious death of a particularly beloved resident which the spirits are determined to investigate and avenge. Much of the fun of the book happens in the graveyard, with conversations like this: “I went to your funeral and sent you flowers.” “Thank you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reciprocate.” “My hip doesn’t hurt anymore, but…I’m not happy….I hate that I’m dead, that’s why. I’ve been saving for ten years to be able to make that trip to California, and now I’m not ever going, and the ticket was nonrefundable.” You know the expression “This is not your grandma’s epic novel”? Well, this is your grandma’s epic novel, anodyne but sweeping in its sweet way, full of home truths and consolation.
- Random House Publishing Group
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Read an Excerpt
At age twenty-eight, Lordor Nordstrom had left his home in Sweden for America, looking for land to buy. Months later, while crossing down through southern Missouri, he found a large tract of good, rich land with plenty of natural springs, just right for a dairy farm. After he had cleared an area for his farm, he placed an ad in the Swedish-American newspapers for young farmers to come and start a new community and soon others joined him, bringing their families and farm animals with them. By 1880, a small farming community had formed that other people in the area called Swede Town, in spite of the fact that two Germans and one Norwegian (who was suspected of being Finnish) now lived there.
Today, Lordor Nordstrom stood on the top of a small hill looking over the long expanse of rolling green meadows and little white farmhouses below. It was so quiet and peaceful up here, nothing but the sound of birds and distant cowbells. He could see there was a most pleasant view from every angle. Exactly what he had been looking for.
He would donate this land to the community and name it Still Meadows. Walking back down the hill, Lordor felt very pleased with himself. As the original settler, he felt a great responsibility to the settlers who had come after him. And he had just found the perfect spot for their final resting place in the upcoming years.
In the following weeks, Lordor and all the local men cleared the land on the hill and began measuring and blocking out rows of burial plots. Each plot was given a number, written in both Swedish and English, so there would be no confusion. They built a nice wooden arch as an entrance that was carved with flowers and read still meadows cemetery, estab. 1889.
After all the landscaping was complete, Lordor called a meeting out at his farm, and announced that since they were all first settlers, their plots would be free, first come, first served, which seemed to Lordor the only fair way to do it. In the future, any newcomers would be charged fifty cents a plot.
The following Sunday, all the families packed up their wagons and went up the hill to stake their claim with small sticks. Some, like the Swensens, who hoped to start a large family, staked out an entire row of twenty or more plots to provide for the ones already here and those yet to come.
Birdie Swensen was very happy with their choice. She was quite musical and liked hearing the birds and cowbells in the distance. She liked the view as well. She said to her husband, “Look, Lars, you can see our farm and the windmill from here. It will be so nice for the children when they come to visit.” Mr. and Mrs. Henry Knott wanted to look back at the cornfields.
Although the flat area on the top of the hill was rather large, and they could have spread around, most people are creatures of habit. They all tended to pick out spots right next to their neighbors, much as they lived below, Lordor in the middle, under the big oak tree, and everyone else around him. Everybody, that is, except Old Man Hendersen, who marched way over to the other side and stuck his stick there. Someone once said that Eustus Hendersen liked his mules better than he did people, and he had agreed.
“Mules are mean, but at least they don’t talk your head off when you see them.”
Later, after everyone had chosen a plot, they sat down for a picnic lunch. Blueberries were in season, so the ladies had made pies. Mr. Lindquist played his fiddle, and Mrs. Knott played her accordion. All in all, it was a fun afternoon.
Of course, at the time, none of them knew about all the strange and mysterious events that would take place on that hill. And even if you had told them, they wouldn’t have believed you in a million years.
Love and Marriage
Lordor guessed that preparing a place to spend eternity and trying to figure out how many plots to set aside for himself was what made him think about his future. At the ripe old age of thirty-seven, he was still one of the many bachelor farmers living in the area. He hadn’t meant to be. He’d just been busy trying to turn a no place into a someplace. There were five married ladies, who were always at him to find a nice woman and settle down, but finding a wife was not an easy thing to do.
Lordor wasn’t against the idea. A few years earlier, and at their insistence, he had tried to meet someone. That spring, he’d had his hair cut by a real barber, purchased a brand-new pair of shoes out of a catalog, and traveled all the way over to the Swedish community of Lindsborg, Kansas. But when he got there, he found out that all the good women were already taken. So Lordor had come back home empty-handed with nothing but the same new shoes and a good haircut.
Swede Town really was in dire need of more women. As it stood now, they couldn’t even throw a decent square dance. When they did, all the men had to take turns wearing a white handkerchief tied around their arms to signify that they were now assuming the role of a female partner. And having to dance and hold hands with another grizzly, callused, hard-skinned farmer had a way of making the real women seem a lot more beautiful, softer, and much more delicate than they really were. Their lack of ladies was causing them to lose good workers as well. After dancing with five-foot-tall, three-feet-wide Nancy Knott, one young farmhand later told Lordor, “When Mrs. Knott starts to look good to you, it’s time to move on.” And he did.
Lordor figured if he was ever going to make another attempt at finding a nice lady, the time was now. He had a new contract to sell milk and cheese to the railroad workers, and his financial future was now secure enough to support a wife. Besides, he was lonely. He wanted someone to share the new house he had just built. But courting a lady properly was a time-consuming proposition, and at present, he didn’t have enough of it. He was short on help, and his dairy farm required him to be there full-time.
At the next barn raising, as everyone was sitting at a long wooden table having lunch, Lordor talked the situation over with his neighbors. Henry Knott, a bandy-legged little hog farmer seated down at the other end, called out, “Hey, Lordor . . . why don’t you advertise for one of them mail-order brides? That way, she comes to you, and no work time’s lost.”
All the women jumped on that notion in a hurry. “Oh, Lordor,” said Mrs. Eggstrom, “that’s exactly what you should do.”
Lordor pulled a skeptical face at the idea, but Mrs. Lindquist, waving a spoon at him, said, “I know what you’re thinking, Lordor, but there’s no shame to it. A lot of men out west are doing it, and there must be plenty of nice Swedish girls out there looking to marry.”
“She’s right,” added Birdie Swensen, who had just placed another piece of fried chicken in front of him. “And if the girl is interested, she sends you her photograph. That way, we can all get a look at her and help you decide.”
Lordor still felt reluctant. He was a little bit shy around women anyway, and the idea of marrying a total stranger made him feel uneasy. But in the end, Mrs. Knott summed it up for him. “You’re getting old, Lordor. Get to it!” He guessed it wouldn’t hurt anything to at least try. So a week later, a small ad appeared in a Swedish-American newspaper in Chicago.
Swedish man of 37 years looking for Swedish lady for marriage.
I have a house and cows.
—Lordor Nordstrom Swede Town, Missouri
A Swedish Lady
Katrina Olsen, only five years from Sweden, was a domestic servant in a large household in Chicago. She had been helping clean the kitchen that morning and had noticed Lordor’s ad in a newspaper. She carefully tore it out and put it in her apron pocket. That night, when she and her friend and coworker Anna Lee were upstairs in their room, Katrina showed her the ad.
“Do you think I should answer it?”
Anna Lee looked at the ad with some alarm. “Oh, Katrina . . . Missouri? We don’t even know where that is. There could be wild Indians or bears even. And this Lordor Nordstrom might be mean and ugly.”
Katrina sighed. “I know, but I don’t want to be a servant all my life.”
“No, me either, but I don’t see much difference in being a servant and being some old cow-farmer’s wife. Besides, it’s too much hard work with no pay. No, I’d rather stay in the city and take my chances with the boys here.”
Being a pretty girl, Katrina had gone out with a few Chicago boys, friends of Anna Lee’s, but they’d been too slick and fast-talking for her taste. And, somehow, the idea of working hard on your own land did not seem that daunting to her. But what Anna Lee had said about bears and wild Indians was a real concern. When they had been learning English, they had read all the popular American dime novels, like Trapper Bess and Mountain Kate, that told of all the many perils women faced living out in the wilderness.
But the more Katrina thought about the ad, the more it intrigued her. She knew going all the way to Missouri would be a risky venture. She could be eaten by a mountain lion or worse. But the ad said the man had a house. When she had left Sweden, she had made certain promises, and she desperately wanted to keep them. So it might be worth taking a chance, but she had waited so long to respond, she was sure Mr. Nordstrom had found someone by now. Still, she guessed it couldn’t hurt to write and see.
A 24-year-old Swedish lady of the Lutheran faith with skills of cooking, sewing, and gardening and a good nature is answering your advertisement. Enclosed is my photograph. If you are so inclined and not already taken, please send your photograph.
Sincerely, Katrina Olsen
It had been weeks, and Lordor Nordstrom had not yet received one reply to his ad. A lot of girls had seen the ad, but most Swedish girls in Chicago were like Anna Lee. They had left farms in Sweden and had no desire to go back to one. Lordor had almost given up hope when Miss Olsen’s reply arrived.
The day the letter arrived, Lordor brought Miss Olsen’s photograph over to the women as promised. They had all gathered in Mrs. Knott’s kitchen for the occasion. After Lordor handed it over, he was told to wait outside so they could speak freely.
Lordor wandered out to the barn and had a smoke with Mr. Knott, who had also been banned from the kitchen. He had no more than finished his smoke when the kitchen door flew open and Mrs. Knott called out, “Lordor, come on in. . . . Henry, you stay out there. I’ll get your lunch in a minute.” Mr. Knott nodded. He hoped it would be sausage and potatoes today. His wife wasn’t much to look at, but oh, her steaming sauerkraut, her Wiener schnitzel, her piping-hot pot roast, creamed noodles, and apple dumplings.
Lordor walked slowly up the stairs to receive his verdict. He took his hat off, stepped inside, and was told to have a seat while five ladies stared at him. He suddenly felt himself start to sweat under the pressure when Birdie Swensen, the gentlest of the five women, spoke.
“Now, Lordor . . . a girl can be pretty and fool a man, but she can’t fool another woman. Yes, this girl is pretty, but for a wife, you want someone of good character as well.”
Lordor cleared his throat. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“Trust us, you do. And so, after careful study, we all agree. This girl has character.” They all nodded as she continued. “We think you need to answer her letter right now, before somebody else grabs her.”
Mrs. Lindquist jumped in. “Besides, she’s a Lutheran, Lordor. What else do you need to know?”
Lordor was awfully glad to hear the ladies’ opinion. He cared very much about what they thought, but in this case, he hadn’t needed much prompting. The moment he had seen the girl’s photograph, he had been smitten. She was Swedish all right, with her blond braids arranged so neatly across her head and wearing her high-necked white lace blouse with a cameo. And she was very pretty. But it was something else that had captured his attention right away. It was a look in her eye that certain immigrants recognized in one another. A look of hope and determination, almost as if she was gazing past him, far into the future. The day the photograph had arrived, he’d stared at it for so long that when he closed his eyes that night, he could still see her face. He figured that must mean something, but he stopped himself from going too far. First, he needed to have his picture taken and give the girl a chance to get a good look at him.
Oh, Lord. Just the thought of her seeing his photograph filled him with dread. Now he knew how that poor horse he’d just bought must have felt when he had examined every inch of him and looked at all of his teeth before putting his money down. Tomorrow, he was going to give that horse some extra hay as a way of an apology.
The baby had come much too early. A woman named Ingrid Olsen had just given birth beside a lake next to the potato field where she worked. She guessed, by the weight of the potatoes, that the baby girl weighed no more than five pounds. A friend helped Ingrid wrap her up in a torn burlap sack.
Ingrid had already lost two babies, but if by some miracle this baby should live, she would name her Katrina. She knew that winter was coming. And with so little food and a house with such poor heat, she did not hold out much hope.
Ingrid looked down at the squirming little five pounds of blue-eyed life she held in her arms and cried for the child’s future.
In 1865, Sweden was a land with strict class divisions, with no middle ground. If you did not own land, you worked it for the ones who did, with no hope for a different future for you or your children.
Meet the Author
Fannie Flagg’s career started in the fifth grade when she wrote, directed, and starred in her first play, titled The Whoopee Girls, and she has not stopped since. At age nineteen she began writing and producing television specials, and later wrote for and appeared on Candid Camera. She then went on to distinguish herself as an actress and a writer in television, films, and the theater. She is the bestselling author of Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man; Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe; Welcome to the World, Baby Girl!; Standing in the Rainbow; A Redbird Christmas; Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven; I Still Dream About You; The All-Girl Filling Station’s Last Reunion; and The Whole Town’s Talking. Flagg’s script for the movie Fried Green Tomatoes was nominated for an Academy Award and the Writers Guild of America Award and won the highly regarded Scripter Award for best screenplay of the year. Fannie Flagg is the winner of the Harper Lee Prize. She lives happily in California and Alabama.
- Montecito, California
- Date of Birth:
- September 21, 1944
- Place of Birth:
- Birmingham, Alabama
- The University of Alabama
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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As only Fannie Flagg can tell a story , sweet,tender,funny and completely readable,this story will touch your heart
A sweet book
My review for this book is based on the uncorrected copy of this book given to me by Net Galley for my review. I found this book to be entertaining and laugh out loud funny. The story was about a town named Elmwood Springs, Missouri the beginning of the town to just about the end of the town and everyone who lived and died in the town. The story started out telling about Lordor Nordstorm coming from Sweden and joining other people from Sweden and some other Countries. Most of the people were married and some of had children. Lordor felt somewhat out of place because he did not have a wife or children. Some of the ladies in the town talked Lordor to try to get a Mail Order Bride from Chicago. He wrote a letter and was surprised to get a reply and a picture of a very pretty lady who lived in Chicago and was from Sweden also. It worked out just right! They married and had two children, a boy and a girl! The story followed them, their children, their family and their neighbors through wars, through 1800s, 1900s, and right up to 2020 when the town started to be run down. It was a funny story, where the people died and were buried in the cemetery on the hilltop and how when they got there, they were able to talk to each other. Even one man asked if anyone knew who killed him! No one was ever arrested for the murder and it turned out that his death was an accident and not murder. The story kept me laughing and always on my toes of what would happen next. Fanny Flagg is a great author and I have read several of her other books and have enjoyed all of them. I read A Redbird Christmas, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café, The All-Girl Filling Station's last Reunion. All of the books are A1 top shelf in my opinion! I would recommend them to anyone who loves to laugh!
All one needs to do is pick up a newspaper to realize how very much all of us could use a good laugh. Well, as always, Fannie Flagg has a barrel of those for us. She’s funny (make that laugh-out-loud funny), charming and wise. As for her imagination it continues to be non-stop. The Whole Town’s Talking left me talking to all my friends, singing the praises of the latest from the irrepressible and irreplaceable Fannie Flagg. So, make yourself comfortable, suspend belief and prepare to meet the residents (living and dead) of Elmwood Springs, Missouri. Somewhere around 1869 Lordor Nordstrom settled this small town and he also ordered from Chicago, Katrina, a Swedish mail-order bride. Now, Lordor not only wanted a pretty and prosperous town but he was a fellow who thought of everything - from beginning to end, so to speak. So, he also created a final resting place for himself, his family, his descendants and the townfolk. It was called “Still Meadows.” Not at all an apt name for what was going on beneath the ground there. Of course, folks would die and after being interred they awakened to find that they are among old friends, neighbors, former husbands and wives, teachers, perhaps their favorite gas station attendant. Why, Tot Whooten discovers that she is buried between her ex-husband and his second wife. Ruby suffered a surprising demise - she died when her faulty toilet exploded beneath her. Needless to say there’s a great deal going on under “Still Meadows.” And, as if that were not enough every once in a while someone will really disappear - where did he or she go? As rather strange things happen the still living townspeople are determined to find out just what is going on. While The Whole Town’s Talking is certainly comic, it is also insightful and heartening as it reminds one of what a wonderful gift life is. Enjoy!
The Whole Town’s Talking is the latest book by Fannie Flagg. The Whole’s Town Talking takes us from the town’s inception in 1880 through 2021. We get to see Lordor Nordstrom arrive from Sweden and start his dairy farm. The various settlers that join him in Southern Missouri and slowly create a town called Swede Town (in the beginning). They are more than neighbors; they are a family. Lordor courts and marries Katrina Olsen, a housemaid from Chicago (with the help from the ladies of the town). Katrina is a mail order bride that answers Lordor’s advertisement. Lordor donates land for the town cemetery to be called Still Meadows. All the original settlers receive a lot. They take a picnic up the hill and everyone picks their burial plot. The town slowly grows over time as they add a general store, barber, bakery, and a school. Miss Lucille Beemer becomes the schoolteacher. We see the town change over time as new people come to their town and the children grow up, marry, and have their own kids. The town changes its name to Elmwood Springs and Lordor becomes the first mayor in 1901. Lordor is the first person to be interred in Still Meadows in 1911. It turns out that life is not over when you die in Elmwood Springs and are laid to rest in Still Meadows. To find out what happens in Still Meadows and the town of Elmwood Springs, you will need to read The Whole Town’s Talking. The Whole Town’s Talking is the history of Elmwood Springs from its humble beginning and into the future. The Whole Town’s Talking is not quite what I expected (from reading the blurb). There are many (dozens) characters in the book, and it can be hard to keep them all straight. Some of them are quirky like Elner. Lordor and Katrina are the best developed characters in the book. Elner Shimfissle (what a name) is the most endearing (and unusual). The beginning of the story (the first hundred or so pages) is the best part. After that the story is not as engaging. I did not know that The Whole Town’s Talking was a part of a series (not until I went write the review and did a little research). The other three books are Welcome to the World, Baby Girl!, Standing in the Rainbow, and Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven. I give The Whole Town’s Talking 3.5 out of 5 stars. I did feel that Fannie Flagg could have pushed the afterlife section a little further (I am trying not to give away any spoilers). It was not as magical or special as it could have been. The epilogue was strange and the ending was a letdown. The Whole Town’s Talking seemed to be lacking Fannie Flagg’s usual sass (or spark) and humor (that can be found in her earlier works).
The Whole Town's Talking by Fannie Flagg is a highly recommended sweet, charming novel that follows the residents of Elmwood Springs, Missouri, from 1889 to 2021. Elmwood Springs was founded by Swedish immigrants, specifically Lordor Nordstrom. At the beginning of The Whole Town's Talking the citizens in the area, before they are even officially a town, mark out on a hill where the cemetery is going to be and choose an area for their family plots and final resting places. They name it Still Meadows, which it is anything but still or restful, as you will hear in the future. Lordor advertises for a wife and Katrina replies, a young Swedish woman living in Chicago. They exchange pictures and letters. The women in the town try to help Lordor's cause, assuring Katrina that "Lordor is a good eater and has all his teeth" and that it "is not like Sweden here. We do not let the men rule with an iron hand. We are all free American women in Missouri." Katrina accepts his invitation to come to Missouri and Lordor pleads with her to "Please hurry. All the ladies around here are busy trying to improve me as well. By the time you get here, I may be over-improved and not much good for anything. After the opening Flagg introduces us to the citizens and families of Elmwood Springs and follows the happenings decade by decade. It's an epic novel for those who like sentimental lighthearted novels that are extremely well written. Flagg has always been a wonderful story-teller and she brings that innate gift to bear on The Whole Town's Talking. It is a pleasant, feel-good story, but it is also a witty, funny tour through the decades with the citizens of Elmwood Springs. There are a few serious and sad moments, but the citizens pull together and keep a positive outlook on life. Soon enough readers will learn that once you have reached your final resting place in Still Meadows, you may be resting, but the meadows are anything but still as those interred there are able to talk to each other until they mysteriously seem to just quietly disappear. Just as the community below the hill is active, the discussions are also ongoing on the hill top. I especially appreciated the thoughts at the end from Macky who is worried about the country because he felt something was rotting from the inside, a slow decay of what was right and wrong. If you would find the idea of souls living on talking to each other objectionable, then you might want to skip this one. If that isn't going to bother you, then this is a pleasant comforting stroll through the decades with the citizens of a small town. Disclosure: My advanced reading copy was courtesy of the publisher/author.