This is a great book telling a wonderful story of art in America. This is what American art is all about and how this little pottery enterprise made its mark on the art world. You will enjoy this book very much.

I wrote the 1st review of this book. There are 3 typo's in the second paragraph. It should read "Shearwater POTTERY not potter, (2) struggled not strugged, and (3) their ART not air. Thanks for letting me make these corrections.

THE STORY OF A FAMILY'S DEDICATION TO EACH OTHER AND THEIR ART

By Lynna Williams.

Maria Estrella Iglesias, a collector of American art pottery, was in an antiques mall near Nashville when she saw a pottery vase glazed "an extraordinary blue." Seeing it across the cluttered room "was like catching a glimpse of the ocean," and when she turned it over she found a name and mark unfamiliar to her. Iglesias couldn't know it then, but that chance introduction to Shearwater Pottery would open up an extraordinary world apart: the personal and public history of the Andersons of Ocean Springs, Miss.

Some readers may already be familiar with the brilliant work of painter, printmaker and muralist Walter Inglis Anderson without knowing the story of his role in the pottery, and the broader story of his family's passionate commitment to art as a way of life.

Four generations of Andersons have created Shearwater's art and, while cordially disliking the term "artist," have nurtured potters, painters, sculptors, poets and writers, from the Depression to the present. The story Iglesias and her husband, Vanderbilt professor Christopher Maurer, tell in "Dreaming in Clay on the Coast of Mississippi" has passion and torment sufficient for grand opera, all borne of a relentless dedication to the making of art. It would be a remarkable story in any time. In the America of the 21st Century, when art is so often viewed as extraneous in our daily lives, or as just another commodity to be consumed, it takes on a special, almost electric, resonance. Maurer and Iglesias' book, which starts with an account of their own "falling into" the Shearwater world, is a compelling account of lives in which art, for better and worse, is as basic a necessity of life as air and water.

It began with a marriage, 100 years ago. After a 12-year courtship, George Walter Anderson, a prosperous grain dealer, wed Annette McConnell, a lawyer's daughter educated at Newcomb College in New Orleans, a central force in the post-Civil War resurgence of arts and crafts in the South. By 1907 there were three sons: Peter, Walter Inglis and James McConnell.

From the beginning, their artistic mother wanted art to wash over them, to be fundamental to who they were. Their businessman father dreamed of "Anderson, Incorporated," the family functioning as a unit. "Dreaming in Clay" documents how both parents' wishes shaped their sons' lives, from their free spirits and work ethic, to their specialized educations, to their vocations, to their choice of wives for whom love and art were one, inextricably linked. As in fairy tales, both wishes-for art, for a family enterprise-came true, but not at all in simple, happily-ever-after fashion.

As an enterprise, Shearwater Pottery began after the family's move in 1918 from New Orleans to Ocean Springs, a place where the beauty and wildness of the natural world led inevitably to the making of art. Oldest son Peter was 22 or 23 when he built a kiln in the side of a hill. One of the pleasures of "Dreaming in Clay" is its careful record of what was involved in the making of modern pottery, and an artistic community, in a "sleepy coastal town that had never had more than a nodding acquaintance with art."

Slowly, amid Peter's ongoing education with established artists intrigued with the experiment at Ocean Springs, the family worked to perfect the technical aspects of producing pottery: the right kiln, the right glazes, the right touch with wheel and hand-thrown pots. The Andersons were getting a business on its feet, but artistic concerns were paramount from the beginning: More than 2,500 pots considered unacceptable -- sometimes entire kilnloads -- were intentionally destroyed before Shearwater opened to the public. The name for the pottery came from a book about birds but was used in tribute to Mississippi's black skimmers, which shear the surface of the water to scoop up small fish. The name reflects what has become Shearwater's enduring connection to the Mississippi landscape.

In writing "Dreaming in Clay," Maurer and Iglesias were given access to the family's archive, and it is in the letters of the day that the family's struggles and triumphs come most vividly alive. Nowhere is that more true than in the stories of the two oldest sons, Peter and Walter Inglis (called Bobby by his family), and the women they would marry, sisters Patricia and Agnes "Sissy" Grinstead. Pat was "transported" the moment she saw the handsome Peter Anderson, and was immediately adopted as a "true" member of the clan. Bob's courtship of Sissy was long and arduous, and drew him into producing decorative pottery and figurines at Shearwater as a livelihood, a way of showing that he, too, could support a wife. The two were married in 1933; four years later, Bob had a devastating mental breakdown. Not long after, Peter, too, was hospitalized, suffering from depression. Peter's illness was more easily treated; Bob's involved a more prolonged hospital stay, and the latest, and most extreme, of psychiatric treatments. When he returned home to Ocean Springs he would find his art again but never be a part of the family in the same way as before.

The book's account of Sissy and Pat Anderson is fascinating in its picture of women determined that both love and art would survive. The resolve of all the family to see each other through, no matter what, helps make "Dreaming in Clay" a highly readable and remarkable testament. We're able to appreciate the survival of Shearwater Pottery into the 21st Century in part because it is also the continuation of a family that has lived, and lived through, its passion for art.

I love John Sandford's Prey-series, and thought I would also check out the Kidd-series. The Empress File is the second in this series, but the first one I've read.

The computer-expert/artist/con-man Kidd receives a call late at night from his online friend Bobby, asking him to go to the town of Longstreet, where a black kid has been shot by the cops. The town is covering up this shooting, as it was the wrong boy who got shot.

The town's underground hard-core black politicians are mad, about the killing of the black boy which is just the latest thing in a row of injustices, redneck racism and corruption in this small Southern town.
Kidd is asked to help developing a scheme, making the current city council fall. His on and off lover, the burglar LuEllen, is brought in as his sidekick, and the story takes off.
There were some intrigues in this story concerning political stuff and computer technicalities that I couldn't quite figure out, but the story moves quickly along, and it is overall a fast and easy read. Some of the rednecks and their methods stand out as particular bad, and the freaky new-age mayor is also a good character.
Though I am not rating this story a 5 star read, I am sure I will read the other Kidd-novels by John Sandford.

This is the second novel starring Kidd, a computer whiz and painter and his partner in crime LuEllen, a professional burglar. After taking down a defense corporation through computer hacking in the first novel(The Fool's Run), Kidd was asked to help bring down the corrupt government of Longstreet, a small town located south of Memphis. The town's political machine consisted of the mayor, a few councilmen, and a dogcatcher who is the town bully. The town was also divided among its white and black residents. The current town government was ruled by whites (with only 1 black councilman) even though blacks were the majority. The mayor and her gang accepted bribes and stole money from the city at every chance they got. Kidd agreed to help the few black members who want to overthrow the government both as a favor to a friend and a good opportunity to steal the illegal cash the political machine members had stashed away.

With LuEllen's help, Kidd concocted a con scheme to topple the current town government and appoint new members to the council. As the plan is executed, something terrible happens. Several murders took place. Kidd and LuEllen is faced with possible danger as the mayor and her gang gets more desperate...

Overall, I like this book better than the first one because there is less computer terms therefore no confusing dialogue since the con scheme relies more on lying and planning than computers. The con scheme is fun to read about, almost brilliant. The relationship between Kidd and LuEllen gets more interesting as Kidd's feelings are brought more to the surface. Even though they enjoy an open relationship (each had other lovers), it's clear that they are devoted to each other more or less. Kidd on several instances in this book declares his love for LuEllen. However, I think it will be some time, if ever, before this couple is willing to acknowledge their feelings and settle down with each other. Hope the author doesn't disappoint us and fully develops their storyline in later novels.

This is a very different Sandford book. It is nothing like the Prey series. Reminds me more of a con going on than anything. Kidd and LuEllen are very good. There is much suspense and you do not want to put the book down. I really liked the part that was at the dog pound. Kidd is great in getting people to believe what he wants them to. I think I like the Prey books better but this was pretty good.

Hype, the one simple word for Lewis Nordan's novel Wolf Whistle, this book won The Southern Book Award and was considered The Top 15 Books In The Past Fifteen Years by The Editor Of The Bloomsbury Review. It was considered the one of the worst fifteen books I've read, due to the stale humor of this book. One good example of this is when Red is accusing Runt of smelling like bird poop and Runt says, "I ain't no anthropologist," to me that's like Janet Reno doing stand up comedy. Maybe the way he writes the story moving to different characters makes it a little bit more interesting. Like discussing Alice Conroy's life and how she is a sweet, open-minded teacher. Then moving to Glenn Gregg, a boy crying for freedom from his abusive father and trying to kill him but only hurts himself in his attempt. Nordan's style actually creates a spider webbed ending moving all the characters together at the end but is too fascinating to give away. The author is has indeed related this story to Emmit Till and segregation but that kind of makes this novel a snooze because it is nothing you haven't heard. I will admit his story could be considered colorful due to character descriptions but nothing special. I think this book shouldn't be read unless you are living in a one-bedroom apartment by yourself with nobody but your pet gerbil. Great for maybe an older audience but I do not recommend this book for people under twenty five.

I'm not quite sure how to review this. I'm a 30 year old guy originially from New York City and now in California. I know nothing about the south, or about the morays of life in a small town, or about the civil rights struggles. This book does a fabulous job of making me feel like I lived in a small southern town, despite that background. I felt that I understood the tensions between classes, between races, and the long-standing relationships that permeate small town life. In that way, the book was ingenious. I felt that I knew the characters intimately, and could understand what they were thinking and saying. That's quite a feat, to make a NYC guy feel at home in a small town in Mississippi. Kudos to the author for that.

But. BUT. Mixed in with the wonderful language and snapshots of southern life were these - I think - over the top and ineffective attempts at surreal, "out there" moments. Talking vultures. Visions of the future in a raindrop sitting on someone's coat. Talking, thinking parrots who play an active role in the town's life. It was just too much for me - it felt like a gifted writer was trying very hard to be creative, and inventive, and "on the edge" - but in my view it just took away from the effectiveness and strength of the book's other features. Don't have a talking vulture speak to me - have one of the wonderful characters do so. I just can't take this surreal stuff seriously.

This book, in general, tells the story of a small town in the heart of Mississippi which is visited by a black kid from Chicago. Probably because he doesn't understand what his role was supposed to be in a small Miss. town at that time, he whistles at a white woman and is as a result brutally murdered. This horrible, real event is the anchor - but not the main focus - of this book. If you ask me, the real focus was on the lives of the people who live in the town.

My favorite part of the book - and one I urge you to savor - is the interaction between auntie and uncle, and the scene with uncle at the trial. These were the two "real" people in the book who really geot to me. Real, every day love and fear and triumph and adversity.

Honestly, unless you like weird stuff - like your plot being told to you by a flying, talking vulture - try something else. If you want surreal done well, try some of Louis de Bernieres earlier books. If you want southern lit done well, try Faulkner.

This book tells an often retold tale in such a dramatic way that you feel you are living it and remembering the murder, the southern town racism, along with the author. I read it and read it again. Then bought it for my collection. Then went and read another title by the author...which didn't live up to this one, but how could it?

I bought this book at a remaindered book sale and I can see why it didn't sell. I am a huge fan of southern authors, but this book is far below the quality of people I'm used to reading - Ellen Gilchrist, Richard Ford, Bobbie Ann Mason, etc. I thought t was forced - at times Bekkah sounded 12, at other times 35. The characters were very unrealistic. Effie, for instance, varied between being a mindless piece of fluff to a responsible, enlightened citizen with a social and moral conscience. Nadine, Alice, Greg were so stereotypical as to be one-dimensional. I only finished this because I wanted to find out the ending. The mystery was alluded to on the first page and resolved at the end, but lots of what went on didn't further the story or heighten the mystery. I suppose this is intended to be a coming of age story, but it's been done so much better by so many others - Carson McCullers, for instance.

I am from the small town of Lucedale, Mississippi ( the town on which I believe "Jexville" is based), and after reading "Summer of the Redeemers," I have to say that not even Anne Rice or Stephen King could make the hair stand on the back of my neck like Carolyn Haines does.

Her writing is exquisite, her characters real and believable and the subject matter hits so close to home that it makes her stories all the more believable and realistic to someone who has grown up in a Southern small town.

I do not want to spoil the book for anyone, but "Redeemers" is definately something to get now ( I see that at least the hardcover edition is out of print), before it is too hard to find. Luckily enough, I bought all of the existing Haines books for my mother a couple of years ago as a Mother's Day present, and am just now getting around to reading them.

Believe me...it was worth the wait. I'm ready to read "Touched," and then move on to the "Bones" series.

I think Mrs. Haines did a great job. I am a Mississippi teen, and can really relate to this book. It kept me interested all the time---there wasn't a dull page! I read a lot, and I really enjoyed this book better than most! It was really an enjoyable read!!!

This is one of those books that is almost impossible to objectively review. The writing is elegant and evocative of an era in the South that died almost in tandem with Mr. Percy and yet I find some parts of it so arrogant and condescending that I feel myself grinding my teeth. You see, I am descended from those Mississippi hill people Percy so despised and, even after all this time, I can almost see the languid gaze and soft, drawling voice. My people came to the Yazoo-Mississippi Delta after the Flood of '27 and we build and earned what we got without the benefit of the massive slave labor that built Mr. Percy's fortune.

But this is a book review and I'll put aside old feelings to say that this is a literary gem that brings to life a way of life on which so many stereotypes of the South are built. And Will Percy is amazingly honest in his descriptions of his society. However, a society this simple and yet this complex takes more than just one book to grasp.

Thus, I also recommend "Rising Tide" by John Barry and "The Most Southern Place on Earth: The Mississippi Delta and the Roots of Regional Identity" by James Cobb to balance your view of this time and place in history.

Bottom line: This is a wonderful, beautifully written story that is refreshingly candid with none of the defensiveness and politically correct breast beating of many of the works of southern writers of recent years.

Percy's autobiogrpahy offers excellent insights into the heart and mind of those of his class (as close to an agricultural elite as this country has ever produced. But the best of this book is offered unconsciously, by accident or indirection.
If you're only going to read one book about the South, or about this elite, read John Barry's Rising Tide, a truly brilliant and magnificently-- almost breathtakingly-- written book. There you gte all of Percy's story plus more perspective and deeper understanding-- indeed, RT may even give you a deeper understanding of Percy than his autobuiography does.
If you're going to read 2 books on the South, then read RT and Mind of the South by Cash. Cash focuses more on the mindset of the rednecks, while Percy is very much an aristocrat. To a certain extent the Percy and Cash books complement each other. In fact, to Percy the word "anglo-saxon" was an insult. He considered himself descended from the Norman conquerors of the Anglo-saxons, and saw them as serfs. That little insight comes from Rising Tide.

Noble, refined, and distinctly tragic in sentiment, this book captures the proud soul of William Percy in eloquent prose. A man, in love with a vision of what is best in the world, in love with what is best in his fellow men, in love with what is best in his home emerges from these pages. He stands defiant in defense of the vision, despite all its imperfections, confident that its beauty outshines its faults. The book stands not only as a proud memorial to a noble vision that has passed into history, but a testimony to the beauty of the human spirit that continues to animate men to strive for nobility of life and the security virtues.

Since I have an appreciation for the eccentric and iconoclastic I found the book jacket description for this novel enticing. Yet both my wife and I read this and we were both underwhelmed. Her conclusion was that Morris was attempting to produce something in the spirit of "A Confederacy of Dunces". Let me assure you, however, that other than an eccentric protagonist, and the tale being situated south of the Mason Dixon line, in no other way does this story resemble O'Toole's classic.

The plot at several different points in the story seems to initially take off (albeit in slightly different directions) and then to quickly sputter and fizzle. It features the stereotypic microscopically small Southern town with the last of the local gentry representing a spent gene pool, mired in aimlessness and alcoholic escape, having an insecure self image and a somewhat pathetic obsession with an abused woman. Characteristically, he is independently wealthy (but seemingly indifferent to money), and a sort of idiot savant in manipulating investments (though, this interesting tangent, which had potential, was never fleshed out).

The story quickly, and unsatisfyingly concludes in an entirely predictable, easy, happy ending devoid of any complexity. I can usually appreciate a good book, but reading the other reviews I am stymied concerning what they saw that I missed.

First let me start out by saying that I will be reading Scott Morris's next book, Waiting for April. I did enjoy his different use of words and his odd characterizations; they were the main reason I continued reading to the end. Morris's attempts at showing southern "kookiness" were well received and his characterizations were some of the strangest I have ever read. That said, this book started out slowly and continued on to an unsuprising finish. It wasn't exactly disappointing, but it was uninspiring. Mr. Morris shows a lot of promise; he has a great way with words and characterizaions. If he could only work on his story development, I think he'd have a winner.

Scott Morris makes Franz Kafka look like a bush league pinch hitter. No one I have read more accurately depicts, not only with psychological penetration but with astonishingly beautiful language, the temper of the times. Not Kafka, not Pinchon. Moreover, we have in Morris a Dostoevskian talent for discovering aesthetic salvation amidst the inner terror and confusion that is symptomatic of "modernity." Morris demonstrates that nihilism need not culminate in nihilism, but as in Ecclesiastes, there is salvation found in brutal honesty. Grace happens.

Not to be critical of the beautiful presentation by Hill Street Press, but if THE TOTAL VIEW OF TAFTLY had been published by an Upper West Side publisher, Morris would be buying his tickets for Oslo and dusting off his tux.

But the proof of the pudding is in the eating of it. You will have to suffer through the same panic as Dennis, Taftly, et al, to arrive at the same destination. So pick it up and read it!

Owen Jones Aiken, SC

Johnston had a life-altering experience in the Mississippi Delta and was eager to share it. He witnessed some of the staggering problems in our educational system. But instead of being moved and challenged by his book, I grew increasingly irritated and unimpressed. How could a Yale graduate, English teacher and Grove Press author achieve publication of a work so riddled with grammatical and word usage errors? The mistakes cast doubt on Johnston's credibility as an educator and reporter. Just two examples: the repeated use of "disinterested" to mean "uninterested"; and the dozens of incorrect modifiers, such as, "Watching Corelle shuffle down the hall flanked by two security guards, a discomfort welled inside me." Like others, I too found his tone a bit self-congratulatory. Despite all, I'm glad I read the book. It covers a part of our culture one needs to know.

Tear-jerking and heartstring-tugging are well and good, but I found the writing to be melodramatic and even maudlin at many points. Besides, how can someone who jumps into two years of teaching in a place he probably would have known nothing about prior to landing there really, truly, genuinely come to understand the profound cultural riches (and poverties) of that place? It would take decades, perhaps, and the intimate understanding of a native son/daughter. I am skeptical. This felt--at least on some level--like the author is capitalizing on his experiences in the Delta. It's clear they had an impact on him, but I'm not sure they really allowed him to leave behind a subtle, smarter-than-thou attitude. Perhaps the best thing about this book is that it might awaken some readers to the horrific plight faced by American public schools.

I am a classmate and friend of the author at YLS and would like to refute the earlier character-attacking review from the YLS student. While I have not had the opportunity to read through the entire book myself, I have talked with the author about education issues and his book, and have found him to be highly informed. More importantly, I feel that he has a legitimate desire to improve the plight of those children from disadvantaged backgrounds through education reform.

A GREAT resource for MS history as well as an entertaining read. And, per the above request, the rivalry between the two schools WAS renewed in the fall of 2000. Although I'm not a huge football fan, it was probably one of the most exciting games I've ever attended. Millsaps won by a field goal in the final seconds of the game. Since then, the two teams have played each other every fall.

Great story! Unbelievable how serious these people take their football. Come on, two church-affiliated schools getting so involved in their football teams that they riot and put people in the hospital, and then have to quit playing each other...for FORTY YEARS?! I'm a huge football fan, but these people are absolutely whacko! I may skip watching my USC Trojans and fly across the county just to see these two Division III schools play. (Yes, I plan on bringing my gas mask and riot gear.)

I find the book thoroughly packed with excitement. Grand story of two bitter rivals. If you are a college football fan, this is a must read. This game is on my list to see this year in Jackson.

God's Long Summer covers a very exciting and troubled time in American History. The various points of view Marsh used to complete this book is the key to understanding this time period. However, the unnecessary abundance of religious references and the slow pace of the book make it almost unreadable. It is heartbreaking to read through one uninteresting point of view, to discover the next chapter is just as dull.

Highly recommended account of the role of "faith" in the lives of five prominent figures in Mississippi during the civil rights movement. Saints (Fannie Lou Hamer, Edwin King, Cleveland Sellers) and sinners (Sam Bowers and Douglas Hudgins) are both represented. Hudgins and other Jackson elites come off nearly as loathsome as Bowers. Marsh's prose is brilliant, providing for a lively and inspiring read.

Marsh's book is a truly poignant view of real Southern people during the civil rights movement. He is able to capture each of the five individual's quite different understandings of God and His actual place in their lives during this time of great struggle. Marsh takes you on a journey of different Christian imaginations as he examines the beliefs of an outstanding woman fighting for her rights as a black woman, an ex-headmaster of the Ku Klux Klan, a black militant leader, a middle-of-the-road preacher, and a white minister who managed to "cross-over" racial lines and fight for freedom. These are wonderful and heartfelt stories being presented by Marsh, and must be read by anyone who has lived through the time of the civil rights movement.

Before I read this book, I kept hearing what a horrible novel it was. However, it isn't horrible; it's just not nearly as fantastic as some of his other works. It's still definitely worth the read, though.

If you can make it through sentences that seem to never end and some repitition, you will find a great story of love, guilt, and Southern life. This book opens with the Sartoris family, and several young men (Bayard Sartoris and others) returning home from World War I, and the impressions war left upon them. Thrown in with a little bit of incest, love notes, and a daredevil, this book provides a good combination of mushiness (sp?), humor, and sorrow.

However, while some have said not to read this book as your first Faulkner, I disagree. And here's why: reading this book after you have read some of his other works really makes you look at this book in a more negative way, since his other works have been so great. Just remember, if this is your first Faulkner read, many of his other works are MUCH BETTER, so if you read this first and don't like it, there are MUCH BETTER ones out there. As far as reading goes, it's a pretty easy read (although you might have to keep track of all the Johns and Bayards), at least in comparison to some of his other books. Also, if you plan on reading other Faulkner books, this one is a MUST, since it introduces you to the Benbrows, Snopes, and the Sartorises-all characters that are found in some of his other novels.

Three-and-a-half-stars. "Flags in the Dust" is the first of Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha novels; it is a must-read for all potential Faulkner fans. It's not his best, by any means--the storyline is at times skittish (perhaps owing to the fact that "Flags" is the uncut, unedited version of what was originally published under the title "Sartoris"), and the characterizations are neither as deep nor as unique as those found in his later works. But "Flags" has charm and importance nonetheless. First, it is a crash course in the Sartoris family, whose many "John"s and "Bayard"s (not to menion the indomitable Granny Millard and Aunt Jenny) comprise a hefty chunk of Faulkner's later novels and short stories. Second, it is absolutely *amazing* (and I can't underscore that enough) to see Faulkner's great novels just beginning to poke through the surface of Jefferson, MS soil: the Snopes family, V.K. Ratliff (here named V.K. Suratt), the McCaslins, the Compsons (I think reference is made even to Thomas Sutpen) all make appearances in the novel. Therefore, I recommend reading "Flags" *after* you've read most of the other Yoknapatawpha novels--the breadth and depth of Faulkner's vision (anticipating or laying the foundation for novels he would write 20 or 30 years later) is truly remarkable, and is half the joy of reading it. (But whenever you read "Flags," at least make sure you've read "The Unvanquished" first--the characters will make far more sense if you do.) As for the story itself: it's convoluted and not always engrossing--though the angst of young Bayard (silently mourning the wartime death of his brother John) is portrayed achingly well, and Aunt Jenny remains one of Faulkner's most powerful leading ladies.

Though not as complex and difficult as some of his more famous works, Flags in the Dust provides some outstanding writing. It may benefit some to read The Unvanquished prior to this book as it gives some background on the Sartoris family, the main focus of Flags. Many of Faulkner's descriptions in this book are uncanny. I would have only given this book four stars, but his two-page description of the mule was alone worth one more star.