room for other southern gothicists?

I forgot I had joined here and then saw it again and was surprised from the title its only for Faulkner. I recently read a short story by Eudora Welty that I LOVED and of course there are others. Just a thought.

I did read the sound and the fury this year, lots more Faulkner for me to explore yet.

The group actually started as a Faulkner discussion group. Then it was broadened to cover Southern Gothic, I believe with the thought that it might be more active that way. I'd love to see some talking going on here----stir the cauldron some more, Tony. See what bubbles up.

This is what happens when you're not about so much -- I think I joined when it was just Faulkner. Then looking through my groups find it and discover it again -- and I see there's already a thread about new subjects.

Hi Tony. Welty is one of my favorite writers. Which short story did you read?

It was 'No Place for You, My Love' - must read more.

Can't forget the apocalyptic works of Walker Percy:

http://hilobrow.com/2010/05/28/walker-percy/

Southern Gothic meets Catholic sci fi with Love in the Ruins:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_in_the_Ruins

Thanks for that kswolff! I love Walker Percy. The Thanatos Syndrome particularly.

I was pleased to see the references to Eudora Welty. She is my favorite author. Recently reread Losing Battles. I vote this her best work. We notherners tend to miss a lot of southern writers. Few of my acquaintances know of her.

I was pleased to see the references to Eudora Welty. She is my favorite author. Recently reread Losing Battles. I vote this her best work. We notherners tend to miss a lot of southern writers. Few of my acquaintances know of her.

Sorry about my double post---I`m not very good at this!

# It happens to everybody; don't sweat the small stuff!

Not really a Southern gothic, but more of a Western noir: The Killer Inside Me by Jim Thompson. Thompson gives the narrator -- the deputy sheriff named Lou Ford -- an aw-shuck cornpone way of saying things, but beneath the corny courteous exterior lays a demonic madness, or in the words of Ford, "the sickness." Frightening and sparse, like a proto-Cormac McCarthy and written 40 years before Dexter