All over but the Shoutin'
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Average customer review:Product Description
This haunting, harrowing, gloriously moving recollection of a life on the American margin is the story of Rick Bragg, who grew up dirt-poor in northeastern Alabama, seemingly destined for either the cotton mills or the penitentiary, and instead became a Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter for The New York Times. It is the story of Bragg's father, a hard-drinking man with a murderous temper and the habit of running out on the people who needed him most.
But at the center of this soaring memoir is Bragg's mother, who went eighteen years without a new dress so that her sons could have school clothes and picked other people's cotton so that her children wouldn't have to live on welfare alone. Evoking these lives--and the country that shaped and nourished them--with artistry, honesty, and compassion, Rick Bragg brings home the love and suffering that lie at the heart of every family. The result is unforgettable.
Product Details
- Amazon Sales Rank: #8934 in Books
- Published on: 1998-09-08
- Released on: 1998-09-08
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Binding: Paperback
- 352 pages
Editorial Reviews
Amazon.com Review
One reason Rick Bragg won a Pulitzer Prize for his feature articles at the New York Times is that he never forgets his roots. When he writes about death and violence in urban slums, Bragg draws on firsthand knowledge of how poverty deforms lives and on his personal belief in the dignity of poor people. His memoir of a hardscrabble Southern youth pays moving tribute to his indomitable mother and struggles to forgive his drunken father. All Over but the Shoutin' is beautifully achieved on both these counts--and many more.
From School Library Journal
YA?On Palm Sunday, 1994, a tornado ripped through a church in Piedmont, AL, killing 20 people. This is Bragg's hometown, and he began his story on the tragedy for the New York Times as follows: "This is a place where grandmothers hold babies on their laps under the stars and whisper in their ears that the lights in the sky are holes in the floor of heaven. This is a place where the song 'Jesus Loves Me' has rocked generations to sleep, and heaven is not a concept, but a destination." It is writing of this quality that won the author his job as a national correspondent and the 1996 Pulitzer Prize for feature writing. He grew up in poverty, the second of three sons of an alcoholic, abusive father and a loving mother. The early chapters give a beautiful description of warm and happy moments he enjoyed with her and his family even as she struggled to provide for them after they'd been abandoned. Teens will enjoy reading about the resourceful, talented, and lucky young man's career as he moved from local reporter to working for regional and national papers. A book for students with an interest in writing, journalism, or the South and of use for autobiography assignments.?Patricia Noonan, Prince William Public Library, VA
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Kirkus Reviews
A celebrated Pulitzer Prizewinning New York Times reporter turns his investigative attention to his own past: growing up poor and making his way from rural Alabama to the top of his profession. Bragg, who was born in 1959, is poetic and convincing on his family's poverty and how it chipped away at their dreams ``to the point that the hopelessness show[ed] through.'' His father, violent and an alcoholic, figures here, as do his siblings, but this is above all a son's story of love and respect for a mother who picked cotton, cleaned houses, and took in washing and ironing, determined to secure for her children the chance at a successful life that poverty had denied her. Bragg explores the ambivalence he felt about leaving home and his growing awareness that such choices will allow him to achieve at a level he's scarcely imagined. His labors lead eventually to a job at the St. Petersburg (Fla.) Times, and then to Harvard in 1992, when he receives a Nieman Fellowship that allows him to make up in reading and coursework some of what he'd missed by having left college early. Bragg won his Pulitzer in 1996 for his human interest stories, profiles of such figures as a courageous bodega owner, defying robbers, and of the 87-year-old Mississippi washerwoman who donated her life savings to a university. He realizes a long-cherished plan when he has enough money to buy a home for his mother. Says Bragg, ``you do the best you can for the people . . . you love with all the strength in your body, once you finally figure out that they are who you are, and, in many ways, all there is.'' Bragg, who now lives in Atlanta, has a strong voice and a sweeping style that, like his approach to newspaper writing, is rich, empathetic, and compelling. His memoir is a model of humility combined with pride in one's accomplishments. -- Copyright ©1997, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.
Customer Reviews
One of the best books I've ever read!
My priest is from Alabama and kept asking me if I'd read this book. The first thing I did after I finished it was to email him so we could get together to discuss it. Then I wrote ten pages about it in my journal, and next I called my sister to tell her about it and talk to her about our own family. Rick Bragg is a gifted writer who does "talk Southern," and I understood every word. My mother's people were sharecroppers during the Depression. I know how hard she tried to raise us out of her own poverty, what she sacrificed, and how well she succeeded. I saw in my own history both those things of which I am most proud and those things of which I am most ashamed. He softened my shame and strengthened the pride, as I'm sure he did his own. Naming the demons frees us, and I thank him for helping me to name a few of mine. I'll recommend this book to everyone, including my high school journalism and American literature students. It touched me in a deep place.
A powerful memoir of growing up poor in the South
All Over But The Shoutin' is Rick Bragg's gift to his mother. Bragg, a Pulitzer Prize winning reporter for The New York Times, has written a powerful memoir of growing up poor in the South. At the center of his story is his mother, raising her three sons to manhood.
A deep understanding of the South is woven throughout the book, along with an appreciation of this region's poorest people. Rick Bragg was raised in a family led by his mother after she finally broke away from his alcoholic and violent father. Vivid memories crowd the book's pages as Bragg writes of his upbringing: surrounded by an extended family, food, hard work, and racism. There were several different cultures in the South of Bragg's youth. Whites belonged to classes, with corresponding differences in education and expectations. Bragg got only a few glimpses into the lives of the wealthy South. His upbringing was among the poorest of the poor. In his culture, men were expected to fight hard and dirty when insulted. Drinking and getting drunk was part of male gatherings. Salvation was found in religion, which surrounded people on the radio, in church, and when family got together. Women cooked huge meals that took hours to prepare. They were responsible for doing what needed to be done to hold a family together and raise the children.
What Bragg carries from his childhood are a fierce and protective love of the South, an affiliation with those who live in poverty wherever he finds them, and a hatred of those who grew up privileged and feel superior because of it. He also carries into adulthood a fear of fatherhood: a concern that he will become as his father was. This causes the breakup of his marriage and leaves Bragg in mid-life looking for something that he feels is missing. Finally, Bragg carries with him a sense of personal inferiority: that he is unworthy of his career, because of his lack of education. Many of these themes come together in the year that he spends as a Nieman Fellow at Harvard University. He is surprised at his selection for this program. He is angered by ignorance and "petrified opinions" about the South he finds there. Yet, he realizes during this year that "you can't go through life not liking people because they didn't have to work as hard or come as far as you did." Bragg seems to have come to terms with his past and present when he receives the Pulitzer Prize. This confirms his worth as a journalist and his mother's success in raising him.
It was at the funeral of his grandmother that Bragg realized the gradual and inexorable ending of the world he grew up in and determined to write this memoir to his mother, while she is still alive to read it. It is a powerful and haunting tribute to her dignity and hard work.
perfect memorialization of a time and place few experienced
I am yet another transplanted Alabamian left in awe as I finished this book. I wonder if all the reviews by southerners like me, came from our searching for someone to talk to about this perfect account of a time and place - the 60's and 70's in rural Alabama - that was almost like time had stood still. It was so far removed from the hippies and woodstock, and full of Hank Williams, the Florida Boys, George Wallace, Bear Bryant's football and all of the rest of the very specific terms, brands, species, and local color that Rick Bragg uses in his writing. Like his mother said -"People forgets if it aint wrote down". I feel almost relieved that he has done such an excellent job of bringing that time to life. And since I've read the other reviews I see that I'm not the only one that was moved to tears by the story of the tall blonde woman and all she endured for the benefit of her sons. I wonder if you hadn't actually lived all that is described in the book, if you'd be as impressed with it. I've concluded that yes, you would. You just wouldn't be paralayzed by some memory that flies into your mind every time something like purple hull peas, or spitting on your worm for luck was mentioned. Or Red Eye Gravy and lightnin bugs. And the descriptions of the food, whether it's the food on the grounds at the Baptist church, or the Foot Long Hot Dog at PeeWees Dixie Dip, or the Thanksgiving dinner at his momma's new house, they were all incredible! (not the bologna sandwich on the dead mule,though) This book also gives me some new respect for our age (I'm a half-year younger than Bragg) His stories of "the stories" that he's covered made me realize that we've seen some news, too, in our life times, even if there were no wars or giant disasters (Thank God). It's ok to be going on forty. His determination to make good for his momma is very admirable. This story is not just about the most stuborn and different men on the planet (yes, southern men) but about all men. It was refreshing to read such a sensitive and honest account of what one man was thinking when he did the things he did, especially relating to his own mother. I didn't want this book to end. It was like reading a letter from home. I savored every word of it and ordered my sister her own copy, because I don't want to pass this one on. I know that I will re-read it, at then in parts, almost like it was my Bible. See, he's right, God does hang on like a rusty fish hook in those parts. Even when you've been living in Southern California for eighteen years, the religion they taught you just doesn't go away. I always thought we grew up in a special time, that very few got to experience, but it was hard to describe or explain. This book confirmed it for me. Maybe he's right....there's a price to pay for living in the lovliness of rural Alabama.




