Tag: Author Event (Page 2 of 15)

The secret is out on ‘The Secrets We Kept’ by Lara Prescott

By Valerie Walley. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (September 29)

The Secrets We Kept is a debut novel by Lara Prescott based on the true events surrounding the 1957 publication of Dr. Zhivago, a 20th century literary masterpiece combining a sweeping love story with intrigue, political hardship, and tragedy, set between the Russian Revolution and WWII. One of the greatest love stories ever written, it was made into the haunting film featuring Julie Christie and Omar Sharif. Boris Pasternak was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature for it, which he was made to turn down by an embarrassed and outraged KGB. It was banned reading there until 1988. But if you haven’t read it, now you’re up to speed, and you can read The Secrets We Kept!

Set in 1957, The Secrets We Kept tells of the CIA’s mission to weaponize a work of art by using this publication against Russia behind the Iron Curtain. The novel is set against the backdrop of the decades long love story between author Boris Pasternak and his muse, Olga (the inspiration for Lara), who spent years in and out of Russian prisons. The stuff of her own life and her relationship with Boris could be a novel in itself. The novel alternates between this story and the stories of two contemporary, unconventional, and mold-breaking women ahead of their time. Sally and Irina are seduced and spurned by the CIA’s typing pool, eventually becoming spies themselves. Their stories, along with a chorus from their co-workers–in some cases first generation college graduates, speakers of multiple languages, and pilots–have now been relegated to the CIA typing pool once the men have returned from WWII. These are the voices telling the story of bringing Dr. Zhivago into print by smuggling it back into Russia. These three women–Olga, Irina, and Sally–do change the course of history through the secrets they keep.

In settings from the Russian countryside, and Pasternak’s own dacha, and on to 50’s Milan and Paris, and grounded back into the reality of an era in which women were trying to find a meaningful workplace in male dominated postwar fifties DC, this is an unputdownable, stylishly plotted and told novel for all.

I urge you to pick up The Secrets We Kept and be swept away into Russia and intrigued by the thrilling story of spy craft. Ultimately, though, it will be each woman’s story that will haunt you for a long time. And while you don’t have to have read or watched Dr. Zhivago, you will probably want to.
Fun fact–Lara Prescott is named after Boris Pasternak’s heroine and as a child often listened to “Lara’s Theme” played by her mother’s jewelry box. You’ll be able to find out more about her obsession with all things Russian, and Dr. Zhivago in particular, when she’s here for a reading at Lemuria on November 21.

This bold and unconventional historical thriller is already a runaway bestseller. Perfect for book clubs, it was also chosen by Reese Witherspoon‘s Hello Sunshine book club.

And along the way you’ll find out how a piece of art changed the world and the course of history in so much a lovelier, more meaningful way than anything social media will ever be able to do.

Valerie Walley is a Ridgeland resident.

Lara Prescott will be at Lemuria on Thursday, November 21, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and discuss The Secrets We Kept. Lemuria has chosen The Secrets We Kept as its December 2019 selection for its First Editions Club for Fiction.

Author Q & A with Sean Brock

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (November 10)

Sean Brock, the James Beard Award-winning author of Heritage follows up his nationally acclaimed debut book with a decidedly enthusiastic probe into the nurturing and connecting qualities of his favorite cuisine with South: Essential Recipes and New Explorations.

With an immutable passion for preserving and restoring heirloom ingredients, Brock offers up 125 recipes in South, with chapters that include everything from “Snacks and Dishes to Share” to “Grains,” “Vegetables and Sides” and even a section titled “Pantry,” complete with recipes and tips for preserving and canning–not to mention two full pages on “How to Make Vinegar.”

Sean Brock

Brock was the founding chef of the award-winning Husk restaurants and is now the chef and owner of Audrey, a distinctly unique dining destination set to open in east Nashville next year.

Brock has been recognized with the James Beard Award for Best Chef Southeast in 2010 and was a finalist for Outstanding Chef in 2013, 2014, and 2015. He has appeared on the TV series Chef’s Table and The Mind of a Chef, for which he was nominated for an Emmy.

Raised in rural Virginia Brock now lives in Nashville.

You made a national name for yourself crafting the heritage cuisine of the award-winning Husk restaurants in Charleston and Greenville, South Carolina; Savannah, Georgia; and Nashville. Tell me about your decision to shift gears and settle in Nashville as you start a new chapter of your life and career.

After my son was born, I had a health scare the last couple of years. I realized that I have to take better care of myself. I was working way too much and I worried way too much. I was operating eight restaurants in five cities. Finally, I had to say “goodbye” to that chapter and start a new path.

Your first book, Heritage, won the James Beard Award for Best American Cookbook and the IACP Julia Child First Book Award, and was called “the blue ribbon chef cookbook of the year” by The New York Times. Were you surprised by its huge success, and would you say that this achievement that helped change your career path?

I can hardly fathom that I ever even got a book deal–and that there would be so much interest in what I was doing with food.

Writing a book is really scary. With my first book, I knew I had one shot to get it out there the way I wanted. There is a gap of about a year between writing a book and getting it published–and a lot can happen in between. Once it’s out there, it’s out there. All I could do was cross my fingers and hope people would get into it. I remember holding it in my hands after it first came out, and seeing others holding it in their hands. That’s when it became real to me.

Winning the James Beard Award was such a stretch that I could have never even imagined it. I remember that day and what a whirlwind of excitement it was.

I think that book came out at a perfect time in America because I began to realize people were really, really interested in Southern food. As a place, it has many cuisines, not just one. It has a strong historical aspect that affects its preset and future.

You have said that you believe Southern cuisine ranks among the best in the world. Please tell me about South, and your motivations for writing it. What message do you want this book to convey?

It’s about how we all can contribute to our own food history. The way I see it, place has its own ingredients and its own cultural influences and natural geography. That’s how cuisine is shaped–restoring the old so we can now have the new. We look to many cultures much older than ours and how they handled their ingredients. It’s important that we can all contribute something to our own culinary history.

You grew up in the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia, and attended cooking school in Charleston while you were still a teenager. What influenced your early culinary interests at such a young age?

I grew up living with my grandmother for a while. I was around 11 to 14 years old at that time, and those were such formative years. I loved eating at her table and being in her garden. It gave me a different perspective about food, and I just fell in love with it.

I started working in (restaurant) kitchens at age 15. Food Network had just started on TV, and that was where I began to see that side of food preparation as a more serious craft.

Thanks to my grandmother, I learned the power of food to nurture and comfort, and I never wanted to do anything else.

Sean Brock will be at Cathead Distillery on Thursday, November 14, a5 5:00 p.m. in conversation with John Currence to sign and discuss South: Essential Recipes and New Explorations.

Author Q & A with S.C. Gwynne

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (October 27)

If you haven’t given much thought to the American Civil War lately, bestselling author and Pulitzer Prize finalist S. C Gwynne offers some compelling thoughts on the country’s current state of division as he examines–in depth–the fourth and final year of the War Between the States.

Hymns of the Republic: The Story of the Final Year of the American Civil War chronicles the events, people and politics of the U.S. in 1864–a time when almost no one, including Abraham Lincoln himself, thought the president would win re-election. The book traces the rough roads Union General Ulysses S. Grant and his counterpart Robert E. Lee traveled as each drove toward victory; the triumphs of nurse Clara Barton; the role that 180,000 black solders forged as they donned Union uniforms, Lee’s ultimate surrender at Appomattox; and finally, the assassination of Lincoln.

Gwynne’s previous books include the award winning Empire of the Summer Moon, Rebel Yell, and The Perfect Pass. As a former journalistic, he served as bureau chief and national correspondent with Time and as executive editor for Texas Magazine, among others.

Today he and his wife, the artist Katie Maratta, live in Austin, Texas.

Hymns of the Republic begins with Washington D.C.’s 1863-64 winter “social season” in high gear as the Civil War dragged on–and the nation’s leaders were given an infusion of hope when Ulysses S. Grant was promoted to the rank of lieutenant general over the Union forces. Please explain what that meant to Washington and the war effort.

S.C. Gwynne

When Grant arrived in Washington, he inspired a hopeful, almost joyful feeling in the North that the war might soon be over. Here was the great and glorious warrior from the “west,” victor of Shiloh, Fort Donelson, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga. Here, at last, was someone to challenge the great Robert E. Lee.

What happened next was the opposite of hope and joy. Within a few months of Grant’s arrival, he and Lee would unleash a storm of blood and death that beggared even the killing fields of Gettysburg and Chancellorsville. And there would be no great northern victory. It was, in fact, Grant’s failure to beat Lee–which opened the large possibility that Abraham Lincoln might not re-elected–that really set the stage for the war’s dramatic final act.

The next presidential election lay ahead, and it seems that Lincoln himself had doubts that he would win. Potentially, what could his loss in the election have meant for the war’s outcome?

In the summer of 1864, it was hard to find anyone in the country, North or South, Republican or Democrat, including Lincoln himself, who believed the president would be re-elected. If he had lost, I believe there would almost certainly have been some sort of negotiated peace, probably with slavery intact in the South. The Civil War would still have to be fought to a close–because the fundamental issue that had caused it in the first place, whether the new territories and states would be slave or free, had not been resolved–but that final action would have been delayed by many years. That’s just my opinion.

Tell me briefly about the contributions that former slaves made to the Union efforts in the war.

Most people have lost track of this, but 180,000 black soldiers fought for the North in the Civil War, most of them in the final year. Some 60 percent of them were former slaves. This meant that men who had been held in bondage one month–without any legal rights, including the right to marry, to hold assets, to buy real estate, to use the courts to settle grievances, to travel, to hold a job–were suddenly wearing uniforms. They had jobs. They earned salaries. They had weapons. Their numbers, and their success as fighters, did much to tip the scales in favor of the Union.

If you look at troop strength, North and South, it always seems as though the Union has a large advantage. But because the North was trying to hold and control so much real estate, as well as garrison Southern cities and protect its supply lines, its advantage on the battlefield was less than it seemed. Black soldiers amounted to an astounding 10 percent of the Union army.

Briefly explain the comparisons you draw between Lincoln and Confederacy President Jefferson Davis as the war was coming to a close.

The two men were so radically different. They shared traits of stubbornness and deep conviction, but otherwise came from different planets. Lincoln was kind, tolerant, forgiving, and personally warm. Davis was brittle, unforgiving, thin-skinned, and grudge-holding. His public persona was often stiff, cold, and unemotional. Both men arguably held their countries together because of their unwillingness to compromise. Lincoln insisted on full restoration of the Union and the abolition of slavery as his basic terms for peace. Davis insisted on the full sovereignty of the southern nation.

Your book examines that last year of the U.S. Civil War in a great deal of detail. What lessons does this documentary of that period hold for Americans today–and why should we still be considering the history of the Civil War today?

The most basic lesson is that the United States of America is, and always has been, a deeply divided country. In the Civil War it was divided by region, state, and race. It still is.

Look at a map of red and blue state America. Read any newspaper to see the often-bitter national debate on race. The Civil War, in which 750,000 people died and huge sections of the South were destroyed, was this divide at its most extreme.

As grim as those statistics are, you can look at the history that followed as the United States somehow muddled through. We are no longer killing ourselves at the rate we did in 1864. Our democracy is messy and imperfect. We are still muddling. Today I read in the paper that the president of the United States in October 2019 was predicting a Civil War. But I draw some small hope from my reading of history.

S.C. Gwynne will be at Lemuria on Monday, October 28, at 5:00 to sign and discuss Hymns of the Republic, in conversation with Donald Miller. Lemuria has selected Hymns of the Republic its November 2019 selection for its First Editions Club for Nonfiction.

Music, life blend in William Morris’s magical memoir ‘This Magic Moment’

By DeMatt Harkins. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (October 20)

Some people make their own luck. Others have never met a stranger. In the case of lifelong Jacksonian Bill Morris, these notions work in tandem. As the founder of the William Morris Group, Bill has made a name for himself nationally in the insurance world. However in his memoir, This Magic Moment, he details his rhapsodic connection with the musical landscape.

The book recounts Morris’ journey as an adult befriending musical heroes of his youth. By practically willing it, he overtime would come to know, encourage, and advocate for members of The Moonglows and The Drifters. With equal parts amazement and gratitude, Morris zealously regales how these unlikely friendships burgeoned.

Inductees of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame class of 2000, The Moonglows began as the The Crazy Sounds in Cleveland, Ohio, during the early 1950s. Members included Magnolia, Mississippi native Prentiss Barnes. DJ Alan Freed, famed for popularizing the term “Rock & Roll,” signed the harmonizers to his Champagne Records. To capitalize on Freed’s nickname of Moondog, The Crazy Sounds became The Moonglows.

Things really got swinging when the group signed to Chess Records–label of Muddy Waters, Bo Diddley, and Chuck Berry. Their single, “Sincerely,” took the R&B #1 spot from The Penguins “Earth Angel.” The McGuire Sisters cover of the hit shot to #1 on the Pop chart. Other cuts such as “Most of All,” “See Saw,” “Please Send Me Someone to Love,” and “Ten Commandments of Love,” landed The Moonglows on several notable package tours, and a few movie sets. Yet success proved brief as they essentially dissolved by 1960.

The Drifters, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame class of 1988, were no accident. Upon hearing the lead singer of The Dominoes had quit, Atlantic Records co-founder, Ahmet Ertegun, tracked him down and immediately signed him. The resulting group became The Drifters. After 3 line-up overhauls in their first year, the roster that stuck introduced Bill Pinkney singing bass. Their early-50s hits included “Such A Night,” their first crossover hit, “Honey Love,” and “Money Honey”—later recorded by Elvis.

But soon Clyde McPhatter left, and Pinkney was fired for requesting a promotion from salary to percentage. From there The Drifters would see many members come and go, including Ben E. King. During this time in the late 50s & early 60s the group would cut such hits as, “There Goes My Baby,” “This Magic Moment,” “Save the Last Dance for Me” (#1 ‘60), and “On Broadway” (top 10, ‘64). However, Pinkney would return to lead a legacy version of the band, The Original Drifters, in the 90s & 2000s.

During these bands’ heyday, Bill Morris was savoring their output, along with a cavalcade of other Doo-Wop and R&B sensations. Throughout “This Magic Moment,” he traces songs’ association with specific memories and experiences of his teen years in Jackson.

While attending a dance Downtown during high school, Morris noticed just how much cash the ticket-taker was handling at the door. It switched on a lightbulb. He would pay his way through Ole Miss by promoting dances and concerts across the state. This would serve as his foot in the door by establishing a rapport with the music world.

Fast forward to 1980. Morris had since shifted his entrepreneurial spirit to building his own insurance agency. While in Washington DC for a conference, he caught a current incarnation of The Moonglows. Completely invigorated, Morris made his way back to the club’s backstage. Among the members was the son of Clyde McPhatter from The Drifters. Admiration and laughter lead to spontaneous singing, and new friendships.

About a year later, the Clarion-Ledger ran a profile of original Moonglow, Prentiss Barnes from Magnolia, who was now residing in Jackson. Morris leapt into action to introduce himself. What started as a gesture to supply Barnes with a complete Moonglows catalog, blossomed into a bond that lasted decades. Aside from becoming pals, Morris would prove a conscientious representative for a victim of early Rock & Roll’s financial ruthlessness.

Back in the 80’s, The Drifters performed at a Jackson fundraiser. Once again, swept up in the moment, Morris wanted to meet the musicians that had brought him such joy. Original Drifter Bill Pinkney was fascinated to learn that Barnes lived in town. Morris arranged for them to meet the next day. For 3 hours, the Doo Wop vets reminisced about their amazing ride in the 50s and 60s. And with it, Morris connected with another hero.

By getting to know and assisting Barnes and Pinkney in personal and professional ways, Morris would find himself in the unlikeliest of places, meeting an amazing array of musical legends in the process. Festivals, award ceremonies, and tribute concerts would land Morris next to Fats Domino, Lloyd Price, Bonnie Raitt, Darlene Love, Mary Wilson, or Curtis Mayfield, among others. This wild ride would culminate in Morris producing two albums for The Drifters, as well as establishing a preservation trust with Morgan Freeman.

In This Magic Moment, Morris demonstrates how his outgoing demeanor, generous nature, and musical passion have spiced his life considerably. And repeatedly throughout, he never forgets to count his blessings about earning the trust of Prentiss Barnes and Bill Pinkney.

DeMatt Harkins of Jackson enjoys flipping pancakes and records with his wife and daughter.

William Morris will be at Lemuria on Thursday, October 24, at 4:00 p.m. to sign copies of This Magic Moment.

Cost of growing up gay, black in American South detailed in courageous memoir ‘How We Fight for Our Lives’

By Charlie R. Braxton. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (October 20)

For many decades, this country has held on to the mythos of the great American melting pot, the place where the world’s tired, poor huddled masses can come and be a part of the democratic fabric of the good old USA. Many people point to this melting pot mythology as proof of America’s exceptionalism, which gives our country the God-given right to transform the world in its red, white (with the emphasis on the word white) and blue image.

It is the global projection of this image, as imperfect as it may be in actuality, that has long been a part of the lore and lure of the United States of America. It is the mirage that entices thousands upon thousands of people to leave their troubled homelands and, sometimes, risk their lives to come to “the land of the free and the home of the brave,” where they are free to live their lives as they see fit, worship the God of their choice, and consume as much as their wallet will allow.

But no one tells them that there is a heavy cost to enter this land and dive into the alabaster cauldron that is America’s melting pot. And for those native or foreign-born children who aren’t white, male, Christian, and cisgender and wish to swim in the mainstream of America’s melting pot, the toll is extremely high. For members of the LGBT community it means suppressing a vital part of their selves so that thay can “get along” with the cisgender majority. This so-called staying in the closet can be damaging to their psyche or, in some cases fatal–as the escalating suicide rate among LGBT youth may indicate.

For those who doubt this damage happens, reading Saeed Jones’ riveting memoir, How We Fight for Our Lives will offer anecdotal proof.

In How We Fight for Our Lives, Saeed Jones, an award-winning African American poet, recounts with vivid details many of the trials and tribulations of growing up a black, gay male in the deep south and his struggle to create a safe space where he can be free to be himself and love whomever he chooses without fear or prejudice from anybody.

But for black non-cisgender men, who grow up in the South’s so-called Bible-Belt like Jones, finding a safe space can be difficult to create as Jones documents via a series of masterful tales about his struggle navigating the various reactions of his family and friends to his sexuality.

This difficulty is certainly not lost on Jones who writes, “As much as this book is my coming of age story as a gay Black man raised in the American South by a single mother, it is also my attempt to excavate the reason why I have come to think of life as a fight.”

For those of us who seek a deeper understanding of the dire need to continue to love and fight for all humanity, we should be grateful to Saeed Jones for having the courage to write How We Fight to for Our Lives.

Charlie R. Braxton is a poet, playwright and journalist whose latest book is entitled Embers Among the Ashes: Poems in a Haiku Manner (Jawara Press, 2018)

Saeed Jones will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, October 23, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and discuss How We Fight for Our Lives.

Author Q & A with William Dunlap

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (October 20)

Mississippi native William Dunlap takes a look back at folk art as he highlights his former father-in-law’s paintings and storytelling from the 1970s in Pappy Kitchens and the Saga of Red Eye the Rooster (University Press of Mississippi).

While the late O.W. “Pappy” Kitchens’ work is hard to classify, his is a style that combines visual folk art with parables that reveal moral virtue. The Crystal Springs native first picked up a paint brush after a long career in the construction business, at the age of 67. He referred to himself as a folk artist, explaining: “I paint about folks, what folks see and what folks do.”

In the book’s introduction, acclaimed art curator Jane Livingston speaks of Kitchens’ intuitive talent.

“He is remarkably uninfluenced by other artists,” she states. “It is the stories and not the form they take that arise naturally from the man’s life and the fables of his imagination.”

It was that “imagination” that Dunlap picked up on immediately when he saw for himself the sincerity and intensity of Kitchens’ “piddling” in his son-in-law’s studio.

“As a Southern visual artist, (Kitchens) employs a birthright inherent in his rich oral culture and tradition,” Dunlap writes in the book’s preface.

The hats Dunlap wears include that of artist, arts commentator, and writer. His paintings, sculpture, and constructions are included in numerous widely recognized public and private collections, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the National Gallery of Art, and The Ogden Museum of Southern Art. He authored numerous publications including the books Short Mean Fiction: Words and Pictures and Dunlap, the latter published by University Press of Mississippi.

An exhibit including the paintings from The Saga of Red Eye the Rooster will be on display at the Mississippi Museum of Art in Jackson through Nov. 17.

Please tell me about your relationship with “Pappy” Kitchens.

I knew Mr. Kitchens from 1963 until his death in ‘86, because I was married to his only daughter Bobbie Jean Kitchens. We moved to the mountains of North Carolina where I taught at Appalachian State University. After Mr. Kitchens retired he and Ms. Kitchens visited us in the fall and in the spring, It was there in my studio that Mr. Kitchens begin to “ piddle,” as he called it, and made some of the most remarkable works of art it’s been my pleasure to see.

Briefly tell us about the story of The Saga of Red Eye the Rooster–which you have deemed to be Pappy Kitchens’ “magnus opus.”

Always a fine storyteller of the Southern tradition, Mr. Kitchens often ruminated on the problems of the world and spoke in parables. The official art world at the time did not embrace the narrative, but that did not stop “Pappy” Kitchens, as he begin to call himself.

His long and involved narrative series called The Saga of Red Eye the Rooster was made over a period of several years, in groups of 20 works at a time. Taken as a whole, there’s nothing in the annals of folk art quite like it.

The work includes 60 separate panels, each 15 inches by 15 inches, all polymer paint and mixed materials on paper. The artwork chronicles the pursuits, habits, and appetites of Red Eye the Rooster, who is very familiar to many of us.

How did you decide to take on the project of producing this book to showcase Kitchens’ talents and achievements in art–and why now?

It has fallen my lot to care for Mr. Kitchens’ body of work and I’m happy to do so. The idea for a book has been out there for some time. Both Jane Livingston, an early supporter of Pappy’s work; and Dr. Rick Gruber, whose scholarship on Southern Art is unmatched, encouraged me to pursue it. Craig Gill, head of the University Press of Mississippi found it compelling enough to underwrite this project. Hence, the book, The Saga of Red Eye the Rooster in all its metaphorical and allegorical glory.

“Pappy” combined his art with an incredible talent for storytelling to produce his greatest works. Please tell me about the personal influences that drove Pappy’s art and his stories.

I’m not the first to come to the conclusion that language is a birthright for we Southerners. What Mr. Kitchens was able to accomplish was to translate the oral into the visual, sometimes with the help of his handy portable typewriter.

It’s all quite seamless. Mr. Kitchens had the skill set all along to make these paintings but what he lacked was the time and motivation. With retirement and the use of the materials in my studio he was able to make up for considerable lost time.

So much of his material was not unlike other so-called folk artists, Bible stories, memories from childhood, etc. Mr. Kitchens also did research–he read widely on art history and folk art and made a very charming painting of the Venus of Willendorf, whose carver and Pappy Kitchens had a great deal in common.

William Dunlap will be at Lemuria on Monday, October 21, at 5:00 to sign and discuss Pappy Kitchens and the Saga of Red Eye the Rooster.

William Dunlap’s new book rediscovers savvy, ingenious art of Mississippi’s Pappy Kitchens

By J. Richard Gruber. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (September 22)

O.W. “Pappy” Kitchens was a distinctive Mississippi character. He was a building contractor and house mover, as well as an accomplished storyteller, who, after he sold his business and retired, discovered that he was an artist.

“I began to draw and sketch and found my experience in drafting was a big help in this adventure.” He was, he explained, a specific type of artist. “I am a folk artist. I paint about folks, what folks see and what folks do.”

In 1970, at the age of 69, Kitchens began to paint and draw, inspired by what he saw in the art studio of his son-in-law, in Boone, North Carolina. That son-in-law was William Dunlap, then a professor of art at Appalachian State University (and now one of Mississippi’s most recognized national artists).

The rapid evolution of Kitchens’ art, driven by his life experiences, his storytelling skills, his religious beliefs, and his inspired visions—all channeled through the crystal ball he consulted—brought him regional and national recognition in the 1970s.

The art and life of Kitchens (1901-1986) is the subject of Bill Dunlap’s handsome, and thought-provoking, new book, Pappy Kitchens and the Saga of Red Eye The Rooster. Kitchens staged his ambitious project in a methodical fashion, as Dunlap notes in his Preface. “This fable consists of sixty panels, each one measuring fifteen inches square, composed of mixed materials on paper and executed in three groups of twenty from 1973 to 1977.” All sixty panels are featured in the book as individual full page, full color illustrations.

The story follows the life of this mythical bird “from foundling to funeral,” as Dunlap describes, tracing the arc of his allegorical adventures and his confrontations “with antagonists of all sorts, including his recurring nemesis, Colonel Harlan Sanders. Red Eye encounters violence, avarice, lust, greed, and, most of all, the seven deadly sins, dispatching them in heroic fashion until he finally succumbs to his own fatal flaw.”

In addition to Dunlap’s lively text, the book includes an excellent essay by noted curator and folk art scholar, Jane Livingston. Livingston included the “Saga of Red Eye” in the 1977 Corcoran Biennial Exhibition in Washington, DC, the first time folk art was included in this prestigious show. By 1977, the “Saga of Red Eye” had been “discovered” by the national art world.

More than forty years later, Livingston offers this observation. “Though it has taken nearly half a century for this book to enter the unpredictable trajectory of American cultural history, it comes at a moment when its authenticity and subtly intense truth-telling are especially welcome.” And she adds that “Pappy Kitchen’s work, once seen, is difficult to forget … in contemplating other artists … who were Pappy Kitchens’s chronological peers, his images resonate for me in a way that few of them achieve.”

This, alone, should give you enough reason to buy this book. Yet, there is another, equally intriguing side to this artist’s story. It relates to his self-awareness, and to current issues in the field of folk art (also known as “outsider,” “self-taught,” “naïve,” “vernacular” and more recently, “outlier” art). These issues question the proximity of self-taught art to contemporary art, increasingly arguing for its parity with more “elite” art forms.

Kitchens was a savvy character. He grew a beard and started calling himself Pappy. He read and studied art history. He referred to specific artists in his art and writings. This historical awareness is seen in his text (he hand wrote, then typed texts), “Preface—American Folk Art “ (included in the book), where he notes that the “first exhibition devoted to American folk art was held at the Whitney Studio Club, organized and sponsored by one Gertrude Whitney, in New York City in 1924.”

Today, a “folk artist” with this level of self-awareness might well be called “woke.” To underscore this self-awareness, he continued. “I sketch, draw, paint, talk, and write what I see, hear, read, feel, taste, and smell from a concept originating and composed from expierance [sic], my crystal ball, photographs, news medias [sic], archives and history, the Holy Bible, and a general knowledge of nature.”

It is time for Pappy Kitchens, and Red Eye, to be “discovered” yet again. He may have been a man ahead of his times.

J. Richard Gruber, Director Emeritus of the Ogden Museum of Southern Art, is active as an independent art historian, curator and writer.

Author Q & A with Will Jacks

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (October 6)

Mississippi Delta photographer and documentarian Will Jacks celebrates the life and times of the late Willie Seaberry, owner of Po’ Monkey’s blues house in Merigold for more than 50 years, in Po’ Monkey’s: Portrait of a Juke Joint (University Press of Mississippi).

Jacks extols the history of the night club that closed with Seaberry’s death in 2016, while pondering the future of the deteriorating hand-built tenant house that was once a blues hot spot.

With more than 70 black-and-white photos and an introduction by award-winning writer Boyce Upholt, Jacks highlights the cultural significance and the need to honor it with a historical record.

Among his many talents and skills, Jacks is also a curator and storyteller, and he teaches photography and documentary classes at Delta State University.

What was it about Po’ Monkey’s juke joint in Merigold that made it such a must-see stop for Blues-loving tourists and locals?

Willie Seaberry

It was Willie Seaberry. The locals definitely came over the years because of him and the welcoming environment he created. And then the locals became the glue that made Po’ Monkey’s different from almost every other space frequented by blues tourists. The mix of tourists and locals created an amazing atmosphere of sharing, and when that atmosphere was combined with the visual drama of the structure and its location in the middle of a farm, well, there was a perfect recipe for an incredibly unique experience–and a good time.

You say in the book that Willie Seaberry knew you (a regular at this establishment for a decade), but you don’t think he knew your name. Tell me about your relationship with him.

Will Jacks

Willie was never great with names, but he had an ability to hide that and make everyone feel as if he were their best friend. I saw him do this over and over and over again. Someone would enter the club–usually a tourist that made yearly trips to the Delta–and give him a warm greeting as if they were family. Willie would reciprocate, and the guest would feel as if it was just a matter of time before Willie came to visit at their home. It wasn’t that Willie was disingenuous–he loved sharing a good time with his guests–it’s just that so many people came in and out of his life that it must have been impossible for him to keep track of all those names and faces.

I was no different. Even though I visited most Thursday nights, I didn’t see Willie as regularly outside of that environment as his closest friends and family. So, I doubt he ever knew my name. I don’t recall a single time that he called me by it, but I could tell from our interactions over the years that he knew who I was. He just didn’t know my name.

He would often ask me to bring him posters I’d made. He liked the portraits I’d used for them. So, I would, and he would give them away and sometimes sell them. He gave me photo books that others had given him over the years. He didn’t much care for them but knew I would. So, he shared them with me. He liked to tease me the way a favorite uncle does. He sometimes would vent to me. He would buy me beer and let me into the club for free. I drove his truck a few times to run errands for him (and for me). I spoke at his funeral.

But we were never best friends. To insinuate that on my part would be disingenuous. I was still one of the many photographers and filmmakers that asked for his time. That was always the crux of our relationship. It just happened that I was the one documentarian that was out there the most, and the one who lived just a few miles away. Because of this, we would see each other outside the confines of his weekly party, and that helped our relationship go further than subject/photographer but not as far as close friend and family.

In what state of repair is Po’ Monkey’s at this time, and what, if any, plans are taking shape for its future?

The structure is still standing, but it’s seeing some decline due to lack of use. The exterior signs have been removed as they were sold at auction last year along with many of his belongings and interior decor.

As for future plans, that’s not my decision to make. There are others in charge of those decisions, and solutions are complicated for a myriad of reasons. I am in touch with many of those stakeholders, but it’s not my place to share whatever plans are being considered, and even then, I don’t know what all is being specifically discussed.

I can say, though, with confidence that all involved are concerned primarily with appropriately honoring what Willie Seaberry built. That seems simple enough on the surface, but when you dig into the specifics it’s much more challenging. Cultural preservation is a tricky thing. I feel certain that something will happen to honor Willie. As to what that is, we’ll all just have to be patient and trusting to until that answer emerges. And perhaps even more so, we will all need to be ready to pitch in to help when and if that time presents itself, as the best preservation is one that is led by community.

Tell me about the images in your “Portrait of a Juke Joint,” and the way you decided to present them in this book–black and white, with no identifications of people or their behaviors in the shots. Over what period were they taken, and how long did it take to produce this book?

I chose black and white specifically because I wanted the people to be the focus–I didn’t want the viewer becoming overly seduced by the colorful space. The structure was compelling, yes, but it was the people, and specifically the locals, that made it magical.

There are to titles because I didn’t want anything to lead the viewer as they look through the photos. I want the viewer to have room to imagine what has occurred before and after the image they are pondering. Sometimes with captions, the words create too much context. I felt there was enough context already in the photos, and anything more would risk the work becoming didactic, which I hope to avoid.

Ultimately, what do you hope to accomplish through this book?

I hope to show that Po’ Monkey’s was a complex place that was more than just a tourist spot. It was crafted from a complex history and became significant both despite that history and because of it.

We will never see another Po’ Monkey’s again, but we will see spaces all around us that become culturally significant without intending to be. Knowing that this is the case, how can we as communities do better jobs of recognizing and supporting those people, moments, and places?

I hope this book will help us as a state, and in particular those in positions of power, consider what we’ve done well but also, and perhaps more important, what we haven’t done well as we have consciously crafted an economy built around a very complex and often painful history.

I hope this book will help give a deeper understanding to just how difficult historic preservation can be.

And finally, I hope this book will help us ask the right questions so we can get to the right answers as to how we can share with future generations the lessons taught by Willie Seaberry.

Will Jacks will be at Lemuria on Tuesday, October 22, at 5:00 to sign and discuss Po’ Monkey’s: Portrait of a Juke Joint.

Author Q & A with Brittney Morris

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (September 22)

Brittney Morris’s hot debut novel presents a relevant and hard-hitting YA tale of a black teen game developer–17-year-old Kiera Johnson–who created the secret multiplayer role-playing game called Slay.

When things begin to spin out of control and the secret world of the game is threatened, Kiera and her online players face a dilemma that lands squarely in the lap of the young game developer, as she explores the ramifications of racism and the importance of exposing the truth.

Morris earned a bachelor’s degree in economics from Boston University, where she was the founder and former president of the school’s Creative Writing Club.

A video game player herself, Morris now lives in Seattle with her husband.

Please share how the story in Slay was shaped by your own personal experiences.

Brittney Morris

Growing up, I was one of the only black kids in my small town. I felt like I was expected to be the black culture expert at my school. I was supposed to know a bunch of musical references, movie references, etc. that just weren’t part of my life. I felt too black to fit in with my white classmates and too “white” to fit in with my black friends, so I grew up in a racial limbo.

Writing Kiera’s story felt quite cathartic because it so closely mirrors mine. Moving between majority white and majority black spaces felt like stepping into alternate universes, one in which I could be myself–I just didn’t know it yet–and one in which I was expected to be “on” so as not to offend or ostracize white people. Kiera learns, like I did, exactly what Blackness means to her and just how diverse, beautiful, and complex it is.

Tell me about the idea of taking on many social topics that are currently relevant to young people today through the medium of video games, and how it resonates with their generation.

Video games–especially indie games–have been tackling tough topics for years: depression, suicide, immigration, chronic illness, self-harm, cyberbullying, and childhood trauma, just to name a few off the top of my head. I have game recommendations for each of those topics if anyone’s interested. Just tweet at me. Anyway, I didn’t see why racism, exploration of racial identity, and “reverse-racism” couldn’t fit in with that list.

And as for Gen-Z specifically, I love seeing them on Twitter. You think we Millennials are skeptical of everything and tired of the status quo? Just you wait. Gen-Z is not here to take no mess, and it gives me so much hope for our future as a species. Video games have been an underutilized immersive and fun educational medium for decades, and I don’t think there’s a better or more innovative group to take it on than today’s teens.

Slay is your debut novel. Tell me about the bidding war for the rights to your book–the immediate interest it garnered from major publishers, and the fact that it is already being considered for movie rights. Were you surprised by this instant response to your work?

I had a great feeling the whole time I was drafting Slay. I knew the concept was commercial, easy to pitch, and full of heavy themes and high stakes. But you never know for sure if something will resonate in publishing. So, I guess when my agent and I began pitching to editors, I was hoping it would resonate, but prepared for the worst. Luckily, we had 13 editors from eight different houses–I think–it’s been awhile – interested!

The bidding war for Slay was wild. It lasted two days and involved lots of conversations with my amazing agent who coordinated the whole process like a wizard. I wasn’t surprised by the response, because I went into this expecting anything to happen. But I am grateful, and eternally honored that I get to share this book with so many people. It’s a lifelong dream come true.

Ultimately, what is your hope for what you would like to accomplish through this book, and the message you want to send?

I was inspired to write Slay after seeing Black Panther. It was the first time I walked into a room full of Black people and felt like I belonged, 100 percent, without having to know any specific pop culture knowledge. You can blame my lone-Black-kid-in-a-hugely-white-town childhood for my complicated relationship with Blackness. It was enough to cross my arms and say “Wakanda forever.”

I want that total unconditional love and acceptance for every single Black person on the planet, especially the ones on the outskirts who feel like they’ve always been “different,” for whom major stereotypes don’t necessarily resonate, like me. I want everyone who reads Slay to walk away believing their identity is what they make it, and that no one has the right to tell them what their identity means or what stereotypes that means they have to fit.

Your publishing agreement includes a second book. Can you tell us yet what ideas you are considering for your sophomore offering?

It does, and I can! It’s about two teen black boys. One can see into the past, and one can see the future. The book is about living with the pressure of knowing what your ancestors went through to get you where you are today, the threat of violence, brutality, and incarceration in your future, and navigating the present under the weight of toxic masculinity.

Slay was a love letter to black people worldwide. My next book sits at the corner of Blackness and masculinity, and it is meant to be a love letter to black men specifically.

Brittney Morris will at Lemuria on Tuesday, September 24, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and discuss Slay. At 5:30, she will be in conversation with Ebony Lumumba.

Author Q & A with Shaun Hamill

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (September 15)

A self-acknowledged “steady diet of horror fiction and monster movies” as he was growing up has, for Arlinton, Texas, native Shaun Hamill, resulted in a debut novel that makes Halloween look like a day in the park.

A Cosmology of Monsters turns the lives of one decent family into a nightmarish sequence of circumstances that blurs the lines between reality and the unknown–which is a good thing for those who love the spooky genre.

Hamill, who earned his writing stripes working on his MFA at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, has seen previous fiction work appear in Carve magazine and Split Infinitive.

Today he resides in Alabama.

Tell me about how you developed such a strong interest in horror stories.

Shaun Hamill

I’ve always been drawn to stories about what might be hiding in the dark. Maybe it’s genetic: my mom kept stacks of horror and thriller novels around the house when I was a kid, and we rented a lot of thrillers from the video store. But I was also lucky enough to encounter three bits of kid-friendly horror at just the right time. The first were Alvin Schwartz and Stephen Gammell’s Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark books. The second was Nickelodeon’s Are You Afraid of the Dark? show. The third was AMC’s 10 p.m. classic monster movie feature every Friday night, where I first saw Bela Lugosi’s Dracula and Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein. From there it was a natural progression to slasher movies, Stephen King, Anne Rice, H.P. Lovecraft, and a lifelong love affair with the genre.

In your acknowledgements at the end of A Cosmology of Monsters, you refer to your debut novel as “this weird literary genre hybrid.” With the current rise in the interest of horror literature, film, and TV, explain where you believe this book fits (or does not fit) within the seemingly expanding genre of “horror.”

When I started Cosmology, I was only following Toni Morrison’s advice and writing the exact book I wanted to read–something that could balance emotional realism with the sense of dark wonder I seek in horror fiction. Through luck or kismet or what-have-you, my book is being released amid a true horror renaissance. In the past few years, artists like Carmen Maria Machado, Victor Lavalle, Ari Aster, and Jordan Peele have provided an embarrassment of elevated or literary horror, and we’ve also gotten a spate of great mainstream horror as well, including the new IT movies, Stranger Things, and the 2018 Halloween, for example. My hope is that Cosmology will sit somewhere between those two poles, attracting mainstream and literary readers alike.

A Cosmology of Monsters is a story about a really nice guy (Harry Turner) and his family, whose journey into darkness begins with the creation of a “haunted” Halloween house in their backyard. One thing leads to another, and eventually the entire family descends into a state of constant tragedies as each is touched by feelings of the presence of “monsters.” Please briefly explain the premise of this sprawling tale of fear and heartbreak.

A Cosmology of Monsters is a literary horror novel about a family running a haunted house attraction in the suburbs of Fort Worth, Texas. Narrated by the youngest child, Noah, the novel tracks the family’s fortunes across 50 years, and explores the monsters–both metaphorical and literal–that haunt them. It’s a generational saga, an homage to Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft, and most importantly, a story about the ways love can either save or damn us.

Ultimately, the story is a mixture of thrill, suspense, mystery, and dark forces, all preying on a decent family that seems to attract more than its share of misfortune. Sometimes it feels as though the metaphorical and the “real” situations and settings blur, as scenes, and sometimes characters themselves, quickly transform. How should readers interpret these changes–and are there glimpses of hidden messages in these scenes?

Although much of the book is meant to be read literally, there are a few places where the literal and metaphorical blend–particularly in the “Turner Sequence” interludes between the main story sections. While I wrote the book to be enjoyed and understood in a single reading, I also designed in some secrets that will, I hope, reward multiple readings and close attention. The book has mysteries to be parsed, if the reader is willing.

Are you surprised by the acclaim and attention your debut book has drawn, and do you have plans for another book in this same vein in your future?

It’s funny. Right before my agent and I started submitting this book to editors, I told my wife that I didn’t expect it to sell. I thought it was too odd, that even if publishers enjoyed reading it, they wouldn’t know how to sell it to a general audience. I have never been happier to be wrong. The novel sold quickly, to the incredible and enthusiastic team at Pantheon Books. The entire publication journey has followed this pattern–with me as the gloomy naysayer, and the universe or fate surpassing all my expectations. This is a long way of saying that yes, I’m both surprised and incredibly grateful for the positive attention the book has drawn, and I hope it means I’ll get to write and publish more novels in this same vein in the future.

Bonus question for you! Define “Cosmology” and tell me about the title of the book.

“Cosmology” is an interesting term. In science and religion, it’s the study of the origin, life, and eventual death of the universe, and the rules or forces that govern those processes. In philosophy, it’s the study of existential questions that are beyond the reach of science. I’ve always loved the word–both its sound and its meaning. I think it’s an appropriate moniker for a story in which a narrator is examining his own life from end to end and uncovering the secret forces that have shaped his existence.

Shaun Hamill will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, September 18, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and discuss A Cosmology of Monsters.

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