All Over but the Shoutin'

I am completely and thoroughly embarrassed to say that before reading this book I didn’t know Rick Bragg. Oh, I knew his name. Maybe I had seen him on Charlie Rose or on Stephanie Ruhle’s 11th Hour show, but I had never read anything he has written. And that includes the articles and/or columns he had written for his prestigious New York Times. If you are enamored of J.D. Vance because you read his best seller “Hillbilly Elegy,” I suggest you read someone who REALLY led that life. And that would be Rick Bragg. He comes from the roots that Vance claims to have come from (Middletown, Ohio, is about as close to being Appalachian as my Indiana hometown is), and he’s worked for the best newspapers, small and big, in the U.S. And, show more yes, he has one of those, a Pulitzer Prize. A friend of mine won one a few years ago. Know what he told me? He said, “About the only thing I can figure it does is ensure that the opening line of my obit will be pretty much the same as every other Pulitzer winner.” But, like Rick Bragg, he is proud of that award. Bragg was proud of having won the Pulitzer Prize more because of what it did for his mother than what it might do for him. And she wasn’t even really sure what the prize was. Plus, she said she couldn’t pronounce it, so she simply told friend that Rick had won a big award. Big award, indeed.
I loved this book, and I don’t say that very often. In the last eight years since I retired from high school English teaching, I’ve read 435 books, and Rick Bragg’s “All Over But the Shoutin’” is right at the top of that list. My fantasy at the ripe old age of 74 is for Rick to read this review on Amazon, Google me to find my phone number, and call me to thank me for writing it. That would be a little like how he felt when he bought his mamma that house. show less

Immediately I love his writing! It's like poetry, with lots of funny analogies I've never heard before. This is a "memoir" of a guy who grew up in the rural south; Alabama. He starts writing as a newspaper reporter and goes on to win the Pulitzer Prize. He never married so perhaps that's why he writes so much about his 'momma'. Towards the eand I was feeling a little ill. It reminded me of Punkin's family a lot!

Rick Bragg needs you to understand three things about his life: One, he grew up with a strong mother. Two, his family was poorer than dirt. I don't know what's more poor than dirt, but Bragg will never let you forget he grew up less than dirt with words like white trash, ragged, welfare, slums, poverty, raggedy, and did I mention poor? Three, he's southern to the core, despite moving to New York City. Maybe it's this last point that makes it okay for him to use words like Eskimo. To be fair, we are a society becoming more and more sensitive to slights, real and perceived. But, I digress.
Bragg travels the world seeing atrocities far worse than growing up in poverty or having a delinquent dad or a drug-addled brother. His ability to tell show more stories from a compassionate point of view draws a great deal of attention and eventually, fame.
It is funny how when we are on the cusp of carrying on traditions from childhood we say we will do things differently than our parents. "I will not be my father. I will not be my mother." Yet, at the same time we are just like them without trying. Bragg spent a lifetime trying not to be his father, but at the end of All Over But the Shoutin' he is compelled to write his long-gone father a few words. show less

"The first memory I have is of a tall blond woman who drags a canvas cotton sack along an undulating row of rust-colored ground, through a field that seems to reach into the back forty of forever." The author was three years old at the time and the blond was his beloved Momma. This memoir is dedicated to her and you can feel the love and respect he has, for this tough incredible woman, as she struggles dirt-poor, to raise her three boys, while an absent father, is off on another drunk. Bragg is an acclaimed reporter for The New York Times, among other renowned newspapers and this is his story. He's a rustic poet and through his lovely prose, you will be sniffling and chuckling at regular intervals. Great stuff!

In this memoir, Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist Rick Bragg outlines the difficulties of growing up “dirt poor” in Appalachia, with an alcoholic father who could never shake that demon and a mother who willingly sacrificed her own health and well-being for her children’s sake. He also gives the reader a look at the life of a child who felt loved and was free to explore and roam and enjoy the nature around him. He openly shares the differing paths his brothers took. Older brother Sam found his own success, taking on the mantle of adult responsibilities when he was still a child, while younger brother Mark continues to struggle. And Bragg gives a nod of thanks to the relatives (Uncle Ed, in particular), townspeople and teachers who show more recognized his talent and encouraged him to strive for something more.

There is a sense of nostalgia about some of his reminiscences. Bragg left his home, but his home never left him. His story in an honest, gripping, heart-wrenching and inspiring love letter to his mother. show less

I was lucky enough to hear Rick Bragg speak last month at the University where I work. He's so personable, and a natural-born storyteller. I was rather delighted to discover that, as a Californian in a room full of Southerners (I live in Arkansas now), Bragg made several jokes that caused those around me to howl with laughter, while I sat there unsure of what just happened. It really cemented how different the South really is from everywhere else in the U.S., for good or bad. Afterwards, when it was my turn to meet Bragg at the book signing, he immediately caught on that I was not from around here. I told him I was from the Bay Area of California, but my grandma lived "up the road a ways" (i.e., 20 minutes down I-40), which was part of show more the reason I took the job in the first place. He smiled and simply said "Then you're home. As long as you have family near, you're home." I walked back to my apartment that night clutching his book to my chest and smiling like a loon. I started reading it right away.

Bragg's sincerity, charm, and wit - on full display during his talk - is doubly prevalent in his memoir about growing up in the South. But his memoir is about so much more than that; it's about the people and a place that you can never fully leave, even when you're in another country writing newspaper articles about the horrors you witness. Bragg frames his memoir around his "momma", a strong, sacrificing woman who did not leave her Alabama town until she accompanied Bragg to his Pulitzer Prize dinner (and you best believe I got teary-eyed at that bit).

There's so much to like about this book and I can go on and on about its merits, but instead I'll just encourage everyone to give it a read. I can think of no better way to try to understand what it means to be a Southerner than to read this book. Amazing, heartbreaking, lovely. show less

Although Yankee-born, I have lived in Alabama for nearly half my life and I feel a kinship and loyalty to this State - with all of its beauty and flaws. So that is why I'm quite ashamed that it took me 17 years to read Rick Bragg's memoir of growing up in Calhoun County, Alabama, and his amazing journalism career. We all have books that stick with us, invade our thoughts for many days or months after you've read the last page. This is one of those books for me. I spoke recently with a Journalism graduate from the University of Alabama where Rick Bragg now serves as a Professor of Writing and we debated the tone of Mr. Bragg's memoir. He thought Mr. Bragg was overplaying the "country bumpkin" card. I feel I can pick out a poser and Rick show more Bragg is not one of them. He feels quite genuine to me. In fact, he talks quite extensively in this book about the struggles he's had throughout his life with that perception of being "less" because he was born and raised as a poor white kid on someone else's land in rural Alabama county. It is actually just that tone that endeared his story to me, and reminded me of just why I love this State and its people so very much (with a few exceptions - of course). Great southern memoir! show less