Contains Spoilers

I’m embarrassed to admit that this is the first thing I’ve read by Flannery O’Connor. 🫣 (Well, I have a vague impression that I might have been made to read one of her short stories once, in English class many ages ago — but if so I have no memory of it.) Downright shameful that I hadn’t read her before, not only because I’m a Catholic and 36 years old and someone who claims to love reading and writing — but also because, as those of you who know me IRL are aware, I have a certain personal connection to her life. So, for many years now I’ve been like “I really should read Flannery O’Connor one of these days!” and for many years now I simply haven’t. Until now.

Of her works, I wanted to start with this one, because I prefer novels to short stories, so that narrowed my options down to two; and between this one and Wise Blood, this one seemed more highly-acclaimed. Also I just like the title. I think of this Bible verse often:

This will not be any kind of intelligent analysis or proper “review” of the book, so if you’re looking for an essay worth talking about in your English class, please go elsewhere. No, as ever, this will simply be my little impressions and silly personal thoughts about the book, because I like to think of you, my imaginary reader, as a friend that I can just chat with, without pressure or expectations. So, if you’ve read this book, please feel free to chime in in the comments, because I want to hear your thoughts too.

Here are mine, although they’re probably not worth reading, because I am not anywhere near smart enough to have understood this book. I probably shouldn’t even bother trying to say anything about it. But maybe some of you will find it mildly entertaining to read one dimwit’s reactions to this literary masterpiece, the same way it’d be kind of entertaining to watch an average Joe try to compete alongside the actual world-class atheletes in the Olympics. (Or, to use a baking show analogy: the way the show Nailed It! is entertaining.) I invite you to have a laugh at my expense.

Well, I was surprised by how enjoyable this book actually was to read. I think part of the reason I’ve been avoiding Flannery O’Connor is because she’s so, well, serious. So heavy. Such gravitas attached to her name. Was I up for it? Was this a good time? No, not today, not today. I finally decided to just do it, since I’m on a roll here with this Rediscovering Reading venture. And this book was surprisingly really fun and gripping, like, you’ll want to stay up late reading it. (Yes, you can tell I’m no great scholar; I like for a novel to be fun.)

The second thing that surprised me: and this is where my lack of understanding really exposes itself: if I had read this book without knowing anything its author, I never would have guessed that she was a Catholic. Everyone talks about how Flannery O’Connor is “A Great Catholic Writer,” but like where in this book do we see Catholicism? She wrote Rayber’s thoughts, feelings, and contempt of religion so convincingly, so sympathetically, that I almost at times was like: “is she actually an atheist/humanist herself?” But no, you can see the author’s faith shining through from underneath. The story is very much informed by belief in God. That much is clear, and it’s very thought-provoking. I just fail to see what makes it “Catholic” specifically.

The third thing that surprised me: I was not expecting there to be SA in this book, damn. That caught me off-guard! At first I was like: “did that really just happen?” and after finishing the book I had to Google it to make sure I’d read that right. I unfortunately did. I don’t know why that surprised me, considering she’d already shown us attempted murder and then actual murder, so it was hardly sunshine and rainbows up to this point. And it wouldn’t have been so shocking in a contemporary novel, but here, in this context, it was just really unexpected, which made it all even more dark and grisly.

But of course that scene wasn’t just there to be dark and grisly. There was all this symbolism going on — dense as I am, it didn’t elude me that Young Tarwater’s “friend” is the devil, and the stranger in the car who drugs him does seem to have a lot in common with that “friend.” Something about the violence done to him here is supposed to be symbolic, but exactly how — that much did elude me.

Another thing that, well, didn’t quite elude me, but made me wonder: what was the hunger/thirst thing about? I guess that Young Tarwater was unable to eat food despite being so hungry because his hunger/thirst was for the eternal Bread of Life, and he had to face that? Was that why the food that his great-uncle had fed him was satisfying but no “worldly” food or drink was? He had to accept the fate that he’d been avoiding?

We also see this avoidance of God in the schoolteacher, Rayber. He talks about this terrifying love that sneaks up on him sometimes and which he doesn’t like to look at or acknowledge; it’s frequently triggered by his son Bishop, but also, Bishop is like the only thing that keeps it at bay, because in Bishop it has a tangible form and a location, but if Bishop were not there, he’d have to confront it all around him — he’d have to face the staggering and terrible beauty of life as a human being? Am I reading that right? I found this a bit baffling because it was so unrelatable. I’ve never felt any kind of persistent, overwhelming, terrifying, nameless multidirectional love (except maybe back in my drinking days, lol). I wish I did because that seems very obviously like an acute awareness of God’s presence — something I honestly don’t have too often. I guess maybe we’re supposed to see that it’s true, that Rayber has the prophet blood in him. You have to wonder what will happen to him now that Bishop is gone. I guess he’ll have to finally confront it.

And I couldn’t help thinking at the end, even in the midst of the burning bush and the Voice of God and all, about the boring logistics: Rayber still, legally, owns this land, right? Do you think he’ll come back to it? Will he and Young Tarwater join forces? (It was interesting how, once he was away from him, YT started to think Rayber wasn’t all bad…) Or will YT really just live here alone until he manages to somehow rebuild the house, just out in the wilderness like some actual John the Baptist?

No need to point out how great Flannery O’Connor’s prose is. She’s obviously a genius at things like metaphor and describing the environment, both external (the silence was corrugated by the trucker’s snores… the column of puke into the lake… Old Tarwater’s fish eyes…) and internal (“He saw with perfect clarity that the only feeling he had for this boy was hate,” “He was not deceived that this was a whole or a full life…”) — just so many lines like that, that make you go “how does anyone think of these things? How would she even know to say that?”

I think the most interesting thing for me was Rayber’s relationship with Bishop. It’s plain that he loves him (that scene where he strokes his ear absentmindedly and then recoils once he catches himself doing it) but I mean also he tried to drown him, so. Is it just that he’s that afraid of a love that knows neither limits nor rationality nor logic? Is the message that to avoid God is to avoid all love and even forfeit life itself? Or what was going on there?

Overall, this is a 10/10 for stretching my feeble brain and giving it a good workout while also satisfying my hunger for delicious prose, for smart, thoughtful writing that’s also fun as heck and hard to put down. If you haven’t read it yet, you should go do that and then come back here and chat with me about it.