Shirley Ann Grau (1929–2020)

This book, written in the mid-1960s, depicts southern culture in a way that is both endearing and despicable. The affection and attachment of the Howland family for their estate is shown in the description of the preparations for the big wedding, a once-in-a-generation event that calls for a complete makeover and renewal of the ancestral home. The issue of race, central to the novel, brings out the worst in the community, in a way that must have been even more accusatory during the height of show more the Civil Rights movement than it is today. The writing is wonderfully descriptive of the rural Deep South's rivers, ridges, and swamps, much of it is beautiful. I found the characters believable and interesting, people who I wanted to know more about. The plot moves right along to the climax, when it becomes hard to put down. I was disturbed by the ending, though, and it has taken me a couple days to process it. I may have to re-read the epilogue just to make sure I understand it. Overall, I think this is an engrossing and worthwhile novel. show less

I stumbled across this book and am so glad I did! Grau's prose is achingly beautiful, even as she is tackling some very painful subjects like racism and hatred in the South of the not-too-distant past. The characters are fully formed and have unique voices of their own. The plot weaves the story of a single family, the Howlands, who settled an area of Alabama and grow to prosperity over many generations through farming, cattle, forestry, and plain hard work. All along, their relationship to show more the local "negroes" is complex and often loving in unexpected ways. This book packs a lot to think about into its pages. show less

This 1964 Pulitzer Prize winning novel reads almost like historical fiction. It has a dreamy quality, but it's a nightmare for Margaret, a "freejack" woman of Native American and Black ancestry, who meets a much older wealthy white widower, Will Howland, in her hidden backwater community. Abandoned by her mother and seeing no life for herself in the crowded home of her grandfather, she moves in with Will and they build a life together with their four children. As Will is the wealthiest man show more in the area and has established most of the businesses that employ the residents, any objections to their relationship in the community are suppressed. Margaret insists on sending their children away to boarding schools in New Orleans at a young age, where they pass for white. Will's daughter from his first marriage leaves her husband and returns home with her daughter Abigail, who adores her grandfather and accepts Margaret as housekeeper/stepmother, admiring the deep love between them. She ends up marrying a man with political ambitions, and when he runs for office, the relationship between Will and Margaret, now both deceased, is exposed by Margaret’s son, and wrecks their his campaign and their marriage. The story is told from the viewpoints of Will, Abigail, and Margaret, though her voice is the quietest, and that is the only flaw I can see. I think this book bears comparison to Toni Morrison's Sula and to the novels of Carson McCullers. The haunted South and its deep seated legacy of inherited misery is here in all its swamps and screams and secrets.

Quote: "The inner workings of old people moved to the outside. Their muscles and sinews got hard and ropy and hung on the outside of their skins. Their veins rose up, like cords wrapping their way across the backs of hands and along legs." show less

Here's a funny thing. I'd been looking at this book for a couple of years harbouring the fear that I may find it boring. More fool me.
The theme of racial disharmony in the South is a well trodden path, but what Shirley Ann Grau delivers is fundamentally a love story. The writing is beautiful.
Set in Alabama, William Howland, a Southern gentleman of substance, does the unthinkable. He falls in love with a black woman (Margaret), has children with her and then marries her (in secret). Margaret show more is a fantastic character, dignified and intelligent. The sacrifice she makes for her children cannot be understated .
The majority of the book is seen through the eyes of Abigail, William's granddaughter. She's wonderfully phlegmatic and when word gets out about William and Margret's marriage things become quite hairy, but she deals with it magnificently.
It's a real shame that The Keepers of the House, it won the Pulitzer prize in 1965, has been somewhat forgotten. This should be taught on the school curriculum for the simple reason that the writing is clever and wise. show less