Southern Gothic: dead?

It’s one of those days. I stayed up until 5 — for no good reason at all — and I’ve looked at one of my favorite sites at least six times but failed to register until now that its proprietor has responded to Cole Coonce’s recent characterization of Harry Crews as “the biggest fraud of a Southern writer ever to score a book deal.” Says Dana:

Cole Coonce, for your information, was born and raised in Hollywood, CA, according to his bio, but don’t let this fool you: he attended school in Mississippi and knows a lot about cars! This provenance is what permits our swaggering Southern Californian dyspeptic to call bullshit on “modern itinerant Southern troubadors”…. He knows frauds, this Coonce. I’m tipping my hand, here, but there it is. You fuck with Harry Crews, you fuck with me. You fuck with me, you fuck with you, pal.

In addition to dissing Crews and proclaiming the death of Southern Gothic fiction, Coonce works in a Confederate Battle Flag rhapsody. You might’ve guessed how I feel about that.

Related: Harry Crews turns 70, slides out of print.


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