Such an interesting interplay between her desire to be a successful writer and her desire to be a servant of god. Both are the same journey. On both paths, she prays to be free of mediocrity. We see a blossoming artist who is brutal with herself. She begs for suffering that she believes necessary...
The small amount O'Connor has to say in this book makes it well worth the read. But it is a small amount, a short-lived journal that was written when she was quite young and still forming ideas. Her raw honesty is great, and her determination to do her best for God are notable. Like most journals...
The quintessential Southern writer, O'Connor wrote fiercely comic, powerful fiction. This anthology includes the masterpieces Wise Blood. The Violent Bear it Away, and Everything that Rises Must Converge.
The quintessential Southern writer, O'Connor wrote fiercely comic, powerful fiction. This anthology includes the masterpieces Wise Blood, Good man is hard to find, and The Violent Bear it Away.
At her death in 1964, O'Connor left behind a body of unpublished essays and lectures as well as a number of critical articles that had appeared in scattered publications during her too-short lifetime. The keen writings comprising Mystery and Manners, selected and edited by O'Connor's lifelong fri...
I am developing quite an addiction for the Southern flavor of American literature, and reading my first short story collection by Flannery O'Connor is more than just adding fuel to the flame of my interest. She is surpassing all my expectations and constantly going beyond the surface of things to...
I'm glad I picked up Wise Blood relatively soon after perusing A Good Man is Hard to Find, because this novel clarified some things in my mind about Flannery O'Connor's theology. I'm now certain that I disagree with just about every aspect of her worldview, to the point where I am actually rep...
Buford had come along about noon, and when he left at sundown, the boy, Tarwater, had never returned from the still. The old man had been Tarwater’s great uncle, or said he was, and they had always lived together so far as the child knew. His uncle had said he was seventy years of age at the time...
Tarwater could tell that he was watching him again, his little eyes protected and precise behind his glasses. He had been watching him ever since he came but now he was watching in a different way: he was watching for something that he planned to make happen. The trip was designed to be a trap bu...
She was too tired to take her arms from around it or to straighten up and she hung there collapsed from the hips, her head balanced like a big florid vegetable at the top of the sack. She gazed with stony unrecognition at the face that confronted her in the dark yellow-spotted mirror over the tab...
Francis and the wolf of Gubbio. This legend has it that St. Francis converted a wolf. I don’t know whether he actually converted this wolf or whether the wolf’s character didn’t just greatly improve after he met St. Francis. Anyway, he calmed down a good deal. But the moral of this story, for me ...
He ate mechanically, his eyes on the child, who was wandering from cabinet to cabinet in the panelled kitchen, collecting the ingredients for his breakfast. He was a stocky blond boy of ten. Sheppard kept his intense blue eyes fixed on him. The boy’s future was written in his face. He would be a ...