In Walk Till the Dogs Get Mean, Adrian Blevins and Karen Salyer McElmurray collect essays from today’s finest established and emerging writers with roots in Appalachia. Together, these essays take the theme of silencing in Appalachian culture, whether the details of that theme revolve around faith, class, work, or family legacies.
In essays that take wide-ranging forms—making this an ideal volume for creative nonfiction classes—contributors write about families left behind, hard-earned educations, selves transformed, identities chosen, and risks taken. They consider the courage required for the inheritances they carry.
Toughness and generosity alike characterize works by Dorothy Allison, bell hooks, Silas House, and others. These writers travel far away from the boundaries of a traditional Appalachia, and then circle back—always—to the mountains that made each of them the distinctive thinking and feeling people they ultimately became. The essays in Walk Till the Dogs Get Mean are an individual and collective act of courage.
Creative Non-Fiction "confessional stories". These essays contain all the information that could NEVER make it into a dust jacket bio. Want to know your fav authors motivations, dark secrets, struggles, or sexual orientation- look no farther! It's all here. Contributors write about families left behind, hard-earned educations, selves transformed, identities chosen and risks taken. Great writing that reaches deep into the histories of the authors. The LGTB crowd is well represented here, many had difficult childhoods because of narrow rural viewpoints and criticisms. Some of my favorites were Silas House, Jessie Van Eerden, Dorothy Allison, Chris Offut, Charles Dodd White, Sarah Einstein, Ann Pancake, and Sheldon Lee Compton. And just as it should be, everything is about PLACE (Appalachia).
If you've ever wanted to take a walk in many peoples' shoes, one after another, then this is the book for you. Exploring life in contemporary Appalachia, from angles typically unseen and undiscussed, "Walk Till The Dogs Get Mean" shines a light on an area which is often misunderstood and defined from without. This powerful essay collection seeks to undo those definitions which have been stitched upon the massive region from outside influences often completely detached from reality.
I wasn't fully prepared for what I would find and gain from reading this. A couple of years ago I endeavored to learn more about the Appalachian region, as it is right in my back yard of Louisville, TN. I don't know if we are technically within what is considered "Appalachia," but we are pretty close, geographically speaking. However, even being so close, I knew very little of what life was like for those living there. As such, I picked up a copy of this book as a means of expanding my understanding of the Appalachian experience from people who actually hail from Appalachia. What I was least prepared for, more than anything, was just how hard some of these essays would hit. And not always in a melancholy way, though there was certainly a heavy dose of that. Sometimes it was funny in relatable ways, sometimes it was deeply calm and meditative, sometimes it struck a chord with my own life experiences, and sometimes it was just downright tragic and painful. Many of the authors who contributed to this wonderful collection are from historically marginalized communities or groups within Appalachia. They are black, they are of the LGBTQ community, they are victims of varying types of violence, they are migrants... In short, the range of perspectives and voices contained in this book is magnificent and offers one a raw, heartfelt look into the complicated lives of people from a region so often treated as a monolith. And for that, I am grateful I had the opportunity to read it.
Often giving me the feeling of sitting around a fire and listening to people share intimate stories which should only be taken in and not commented on, "Walk Till The Dogs Get Mean" has left a profound mark. This is a book that everyone would benefit from reading. In a word: powerful.
"For better or worse, this was my country, and I could not let it go until it blessed me. What form that blessing would take I did not know yet. I only knew that when it came I would recognize it through its disguises. It is this that keeps poets in their countries through namelessness, doors closing, hungers, and there are many kinds, until they are forced to abandon home, which can, in itself, become a blessing." (Mary Lee Settle, in Charley Bland, quoted by Aaron Smith in his essay "For Better or Worse, This Was My Country")
Settle doesn't have an essay in this collection, but this seems to be the perfect summation of the tone and scope of these essays, written by those who seem to exist on the "fringe" of Appalachian identity (LGBTQ, mixed race, feminist, academics) and yet identify with that culture (while simultaneously fleeing it). The title and cover really grabbed me more than anything. Some of the essays are certainly stronger than others, but I'll be thinking about the ideas expressed here for some time, especially when driving in the backwoods.
This is a powerful anthology. I was particularly drawn to works by Silas House, Ann Pancake, Mary Crockett Hill, and Tennessee Jones. In particular, I kept rereading passages by Jones. What a voice. He writes about handling what we’d now call trauma: “The people I loved and who loved me had stabbed me in the heart for as long as I could remember to try to prepare me for the hardness of the world. From this I learned to stab myself, again and again, just to see if I could stand it… I did not realize, then, that self-hate is perhaps the highest form of selfishness we can re-create. It is the oil that allows the wheels of the big evils to turn.” He writes about class divides: “I slowly began to realize I was not the same color white as my middle-class friends.” I could easily quote from every one of his paragraphs.
Even the book itself is beautifully produced – high quality paper and binding, a pleasure to hold as well as to read.
I loved this piece. I have had a very fraught relationship with non fiction and reading post undergrad and this collection of essays reminded me that consuming non fiction doesn’t have to be a intimidatingly laborious chore. I am a fan of how queer voices are prominent within this work as well as the curation of pieces and themes. Towards the end some of the essays felt pedantic and, by extensive, failed to captivate me as preceding pieces, but as a whole, I was a huge fan. I’ve recommended this piece to my friends and strangers.
This book has some of the most authentic voices I have read about Appalachia. Admittedly, some of the essays are hard reading because of the isolation felt by the authors. Appalachia is full of complexities and contradictions and is too often portrayed as a caricature of itself. This book is a long walk through Appalachia with all of its lush valleys, imposing mountains, and winding, rocky paths - its glory and its shame.
There are many five-star essays in here, and the anthology is a monumental project. To be successful at such an undertaking is incredibly admirable. The editors (Blevins and McElmurray) did a fabulous job both in selection and ordering, and of course so much more. Read the first essay, and you’ll be hooked.
An amazing collection of essays by brilliant writers. Insightful mediations that help to dispel many of the stereotypes of the Appalachian people. Powerful voices speaking out from an Appalachia which is often defined by the outsiders. Filled with many words of wisdom - thoughtful, funny at times and beautifully written.
3.5 stars. These are my people! If you have Appalachian roots, you’ll see yourself again and again in these essays. They concern religion (Silas House’s essay about growing up in the Holiness Church); Appalachians’ outsider status, with a particular emphasis on the LGBT experience, and reflections from authors who have left the region for good (Melissa Range’s “Outsider Appalachian”, David Huddle’s “Above My Raising”).
The collection also included a great but harrowing essay by Chris Offutt, the very funny “Confessions of a Halfalachian” by Mary Crockett Hill, and the coming-of-age reminiscence “Tough” by the fantastic Ann Pancake.
One of the editors is Adrian Blevins, whose Live from the Homesick Jamboree I really liked.
The essays, prose, etc. in this collection are gems. I'm not Appalachian, but I am a born/bred North Carolinian. The internal struggles the writers lay bare are not just for fellow Appalachians; I think that people from all walks of life should read these reflections.