March 23, 2010
Enchanted Evening Barbie and the Second Coming... by Rheta Grimsley Johnson
published by NewSouth Books, Montgomery, Alabama
review by Andrea
Discovering the delightful and unique in the ordinary and mundane is one talent in which Rheta Grimsley Johnson excels. By her own admission she began writing a book about Christmas because those books sell. She wanted to include humor because that also sells. She accomplished far more than that however. When we read, we want to discover new ways to look at things and Johnson helps us do that. For example, Christmases serve as a “demarcation” (193). Who hasn’t felt torn at one time or another trying to divide his/her time evenly between two sides of the family?
The title Enchanted Evening Barbie and the Second Coming stems from a Christmas when Barbie dolls came into popularity and a young girl’s associations of Christmas and religion. Children rationalize ideas and events in ways that seem perfectly logical to them but often surprise adults. Her conclusion about Christmas is one such example.
The book is written in vignettes, an easy to read form that Johnson merges into one flowing account. A major theme that soon emerges is home. Halfway through the book, we have lived in an apartment on Ocean Avenue on St. Simon’s Island, the Hybart House in Monroeville, the Smurf House in Jackson and Fishtrap Hollow, the character of each described with delicious detail and painted with the emotions and events of that time in the author’s life. Her homes from childhood through marriage speak of adventure and youth, then security and comfort. The homes represent different stages in her life and the wisdom she gleaned from each. They are symbolic of the inner Johnson and universal in their representation of home to all of us.
Johnson is famous for writing about ordinary people. She believes they deserve their place in the news as much as celebrities. Her talent for relating these real people and real events to us makes the reading entertaining and endearing. But writing often takes the writer deeper into this material we call life, and we find ourselves right there in the muck of life with her. Johnson deals with serious topics as divorce and death yet lightens the darkness of those pages with humor as well. In one chapter entitled “Refrigerator Babies” the childless Johnson writes about the photos she would receive of “babies in every stage of development, from freshly hatched fetuses to fat, ugly toddlers ... Months later I would have forgotten who the baby might be, except the next likely cute candidate to fall off the refrigerator door to live with the dust bunnies beneath it” (100). In another passage she describes spending the night at the home of her best friend as a teenager where they were allowed to stay up late and try on the glamorous mother’s high heels. Years later, “When Cora (the mother) died, hope of someday being a rare beauty died inside me... She saw beauty everywhere, and in everyone, through some generous spirit that she had that most of us don’t possess” (35).
Her memoirs take us Southerners to many familiar places: the beaches of Georgia; the small town of Monroeville where Truman Capote and Harper Lee grew up; the Gulf Shores of Mississippi, the forested mountains of Tennessee and the swamps of Louisiana. Local readers may agree, “The colors of Panhandle Florida are like a kaleidoscope I’ve kept in a drawer all these years. I can mix them into different patterns whenever I hold the kaleidoscope to the light” (20).
This book encompasses a broad spectrum of humanity. It will speak to the Southerner and to the writer. It will also speak to anyone who has felt pangs of disappointment at Christmas, listened to loved ones argue or felt excluded from a group where one wanted to be included. Events resonate with universal truth and Johnson has a passionate way of putting it out there plainly for all to see.