What do you think?
Rate this book
Tula Springs
Modern Baptists
Universally and repeatedly praised ever since it first appeared in 1983, Modern Baptists is the book that launched novelist James Wilcox's career and debuted the endearingly daft community of Tula Springs, Louisiana. It's the tale of Bobby Pickens, assistant manager of Sonny Boy Bargain Store, who gains a new lease on life, though he almost comes to regret it. Bobby's handsome half brother F.X.-ex-con, ex-actor, and ex-husband three times over-moves in, and things go awry all over town. Mistaken identities; entangled romances with Burma, Toinette, and Donna Lee; assault and battery; charges of degeneracy; a nervous breakdown-it all comes to a head at a Christmas Eve party in a cabin on a poisoned swamp. This is sly, madcap romp that offers readers the gift of abundant laughter.
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1983
17 people are currently reading
658 people want to read
About the author
James Wilcox
37 books31 followersJames Wilcox (b. 1949 in Hammond, Louisiana) is an American novelist and a professor at LSU in Baton Rouge.
Wilcox is the author of eight comic novels set in, or featuring characters from, the fictional town of Tula Springs, Louisiana. Wilcox's first book Modern Baptists (1983) remains his best known work. His other novels are North Gladiola (1985), Miss Undine's Living Room (1987), Sort of Rich (1989), Polite Sex (1991), Guest of a Sinner (1993), Plain and Normal (1998), Heavenly Days (2003), and Hunk City (2007). Wilcox is also the author of three short stories that were published in The New Yorker between 1981 and 1986, three of only four short stories that the author has published. He has written book reviews for The New York Times and The Los Angeles Times, and two pieces for ELLE. He was the subject of an article by James B. Stewart in The New Yorker's 1994 summer fiction issue; entitled "Moby Dick in Manhattan", it detailed his struggle to survive as a writer devoted purely to literary fiction.
Wilcox, a recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship in 1986, has held the Robert Penn Warren Professorship at Louisiana State University since September 2004. He is also the director of the university's creative writing program.
Wilcox is the author of eight comic novels set in, or featuring characters from, the fictional town of Tula Springs, Louisiana. Wilcox's first book Modern Baptists (1983) remains his best known work. His other novels are North Gladiola (1985), Miss Undine's Living Room (1987), Sort of Rich (1989), Polite Sex (1991), Guest of a Sinner (1993), Plain and Normal (1998), Heavenly Days (2003), and Hunk City (2007). Wilcox is also the author of three short stories that were published in The New Yorker between 1981 and 1986, three of only four short stories that the author has published. He has written book reviews for The New York Times and The Los Angeles Times, and two pieces for ELLE. He was the subject of an article by James B. Stewart in The New Yorker's 1994 summer fiction issue; entitled "Moby Dick in Manhattan", it detailed his struggle to survive as a writer devoted purely to literary fiction.
Wilcox, a recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship in 1986, has held the Robert Penn Warren Professorship at Louisiana State University since September 2004. He is also the director of the university's creative writing program.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 79 reviews
November 29, 2023
If you want to spend a few days in the company of a handful of reprobates, this is for you.
Considered a modern classic of American literature Modern Baptists is enjoyable enough.
Often disturbing, sometimes frustrating and occasionally funny. It’s a satire on life in a southern US town, a town where nothing much really happens, a depressing place of no ambition or joy.
Mr Bobby Pickens, a middle-aged dude living alone in the family home, has his world disrupted by his brother – a good looking, ‘aspiring actor’ with a six pack and a sometime crook. His brother, F.X., decides to set up shop at Mr Pickens’ (the author uses this title throughout) joint, following his release from prison. This is a shock to Mr Pickens as he thought the house was left to him, to him alone, by his parents. F.X. comes with a VERY LARGE footprint – causing no end of stress for Mr Pickens.
Mr Pickens works at a local store called Sonny Boy, managed by a tight-fisted, petty man, called Mr Randy. A salesgirl works there, and Mr Pickens has a crush on her – she is many years his junior, Antoinette is her name. But there’s also another woman in town called Burma, who seems to hold a flame in her heart for the hapless Mr Pickens. However, Burma has a fiancée called Emmet. Emmet would be the dullest tool in this toolbox – and that’s saying something!!!
Mr Pickens had a spot on his back, on the shape of New Jersey, diagnosed as malignant by the lab……….referred to as ‘back cancer’ later in the book.
There’s a smattering of other flat-lining small-town characters here, many religious (Baptists), who create drama in this story devoid of plot.
”Bobby, do you think you drink too much?”
“I guess so.”
“And we’re Baptists.”
“Modern Baptists can drink. It’s only stuffed shirts like Dr McFlug who don’t.”
“Well, I guess I’m a modern Baptist, then. Wanna get drunk?”
I haven’t visited a southern small town in the US, but this book does create a unique feel – it is relentless in creating an aura of hopelessness. I have visited many and lived in some, small towns in rural Australia – so I get the feeling. You, know – shops boarded up in the main street, no jobs, small town gossip.
There is fun to be had here – that’s if you like laughing at the misfortunes of others. This is something I can do – in the world of fiction of course. But this kind of hopelessness can also be funny in real life stories – providing no animals or small children are hurt.
This is good fun and will give your emotions (good and bad) a bit of a kick up the bum – worth a try.
4 Stars
Considered a modern classic of American literature Modern Baptists is enjoyable enough.
Often disturbing, sometimes frustrating and occasionally funny. It’s a satire on life in a southern US town, a town where nothing much really happens, a depressing place of no ambition or joy.
Mr Bobby Pickens, a middle-aged dude living alone in the family home, has his world disrupted by his brother – a good looking, ‘aspiring actor’ with a six pack and a sometime crook. His brother, F.X., decides to set up shop at Mr Pickens’ (the author uses this title throughout) joint, following his release from prison. This is a shock to Mr Pickens as he thought the house was left to him, to him alone, by his parents. F.X. comes with a VERY LARGE footprint – causing no end of stress for Mr Pickens.
Mr Pickens works at a local store called Sonny Boy, managed by a tight-fisted, petty man, called Mr Randy. A salesgirl works there, and Mr Pickens has a crush on her – she is many years his junior, Antoinette is her name. But there’s also another woman in town called Burma, who seems to hold a flame in her heart for the hapless Mr Pickens. However, Burma has a fiancée called Emmet. Emmet would be the dullest tool in this toolbox – and that’s saying something!!!
Mr Pickens had a spot on his back, on the shape of New Jersey, diagnosed as malignant by the lab……….referred to as ‘back cancer’ later in the book.
There’s a smattering of other flat-lining small-town characters here, many religious (Baptists), who create drama in this story devoid of plot.
”Bobby, do you think you drink too much?”
“I guess so.”
“And we’re Baptists.”
“Modern Baptists can drink. It’s only stuffed shirts like Dr McFlug who don’t.”
“Well, I guess I’m a modern Baptist, then. Wanna get drunk?”
I haven’t visited a southern small town in the US, but this book does create a unique feel – it is relentless in creating an aura of hopelessness. I have visited many and lived in some, small towns in rural Australia – so I get the feeling. You, know – shops boarded up in the main street, no jobs, small town gossip.
There is fun to be had here – that’s if you like laughing at the misfortunes of others. This is something I can do – in the world of fiction of course. But this kind of hopelessness can also be funny in real life stories – providing no animals or small children are hurt.
This is good fun and will give your emotions (good and bad) a bit of a kick up the bum – worth a try.
4 Stars
May 18, 2013
"Bobby, do you think you drink too much?"
"I guess so."
"And we're Baptists."
"Modern Baptists can drink. It's only stuffed shirts like Dr. McFlug who don't."
"Well, I guess I'm a modern Baptist, then." She was still looking at the sky. "Want to get drunk?"
Bobby Pickens's life will never be the same now that his half-brother, F.X., has been sprung from prison and parked himself on the plastic-covered love seat in Bobby's house. Within a matter of days, EVERYTHING will be crazy, convoluted and spiraling out of control.
Wilcox's first novel is chock-a-block with flawed characters who all have plans and dreams and cockamamie schemes. Some dream of unattainable love, and others wish for fame, but they would ALL like to stop being so miserable all the time...even if it means turning to religion...
Mr. Pickens knew that once he got his preaching diploma, he would open a church for modern Baptists, Baptists who were sick to death of hell and sin being stuffed down their gullets every Sunday. There wasn't going to be any of that old-fashioned ranting and raving in Mr. Pickens's church. His Baptist church would be guided by reason and logic. Everyone could drink in moderation. Everyone could dance and pet as long as they were fifteen--well, maybe sixteen or seventeen. At thirty, if you still weren't married, you could sleep with someone, and it wouldn't be a sin--that is, as long as you loved that person. If you hit forty and were still single, you'd be eligible for adultery not being a sin, as long as no children's feelings got hurt and it was kept discreet. But you still had to love and respect the person: you couldn't just do it for sex.
Amen! Now, pass the collection plate!
"I guess so."
"And we're Baptists."
"Modern Baptists can drink. It's only stuffed shirts like Dr. McFlug who don't."
"Well, I guess I'm a modern Baptist, then." She was still looking at the sky. "Want to get drunk?"
Bobby Pickens's life will never be the same now that his half-brother, F.X., has been sprung from prison and parked himself on the plastic-covered love seat in Bobby's house. Within a matter of days, EVERYTHING will be crazy, convoluted and spiraling out of control.
Wilcox's first novel is chock-a-block with flawed characters who all have plans and dreams and cockamamie schemes. Some dream of unattainable love, and others wish for fame, but they would ALL like to stop being so miserable all the time...even if it means turning to religion...
Mr. Pickens knew that once he got his preaching diploma, he would open a church for modern Baptists, Baptists who were sick to death of hell and sin being stuffed down their gullets every Sunday. There wasn't going to be any of that old-fashioned ranting and raving in Mr. Pickens's church. His Baptist church would be guided by reason and logic. Everyone could drink in moderation. Everyone could dance and pet as long as they were fifteen--well, maybe sixteen or seventeen. At thirty, if you still weren't married, you could sleep with someone, and it wouldn't be a sin--that is, as long as you loved that person. If you hit forty and were still single, you'd be eligible for adultery not being a sin, as long as no children's feelings got hurt and it was kept discreet. But you still had to love and respect the person: you couldn't just do it for sex.
Amen! Now, pass the collection plate!
January 28, 2013
All I can say is, if you don't like it, then fuck you and I don't want to be your friend.
March 1, 2019
The first hundred pages had me convinced I was in the presence of some near-Portis masterpiece of deadpan spot-on Southern weirdness. About halfway through, though, a strong streak of farce emerges, the kind of large gestural pratfall-y stuff that's more Funny than funny. Even more dismaying was Wilcox's tendency toward those 'lyrical' descriptions of plants and dirt and shit that so many Southern writers can't seem to avoid. Stuff like: "The alligator willow guyed against the alpanthea knobs, which were speckled with creosote and spring rain; across the bayou, the moon threw shards of light like a thousand pieces of broken pottery among the shadows of the gumstumps and the sycamores." I just made that up off the top of my head and it's more egregious than anything in this book but my point remains: What kind of comedy is this where the characters constantly stop mid-action to observe the delicate behavior of roadside plants? Maybe I'm going too hard on this book because so often it feels like it's within striking distance of true greatness, and that's not nothing. Mr. Carl Robert Pickens is an incredible literary character - a huffy doughy Louisiana nebbish in loud rumpled clothing who can't seem to go more than a few hours without having some sighing breakdown over how put-upon he is, pathetic in the sense of being a clueless turd and pathetic in sense of one who evokes pathos - and Wilcox's attention to the dumb/beautiful trappings of his milieu (canned chop suey, Fritos with blue cheese dip, bourbon and Tab cola, bright orange undershirts with matching briefs, etc etc) reminds me of nothing less than early Jonathan Demme.
February 17, 2013
A very satisfying read with a gentle story. The hero (Mr Pickens) is brilliantly exasperating and exasperated with his brother's (the awesomely named F.X.) constant pursuit of fame and adoration. I fell in love with the female characters (Donna Lee and Burma) as they try to fix the lives of the hapless brothers, although I secretly hoped they'd give up on them and leave Tula Springs for better things. This book makes you feel like you're bathing in a hot southern sun on a wooden porch (maybe in a creaky rocking-chair) even if you're on the other side of the world in snow. Written in small bite sized chapters, this book is as close to the perfect novel to read when dashing between places/a quick read before sleep as you could ever hope for. Just awesome
June 13, 2019
Funny, I think I know some of the characters in this book. I live in the community in which this story takes place and, I can tell you, it is an accurate account. The humor is subtle but sharp. I found myself laughing at things a few pages later... Don't understand why some people hated it so much. I do agree that you kind of expect more to happen but then, nothing really happens here anyway.
November 27, 2012
Mr. Pickens is intensely unlikeable. He's that dumpy, clueless, slightly creepy guy you've undoubtedly run into during the course of your life. He probably hit on you. He doesn't realize he smells faintly of BO or that his hair hasn't been washed in a while. There were probably food stains on his haphazardly tucked-in shirt. He's desperate to be liked, but he's so unlikeable and socially inept that he's always alone, thus exacerbating the antisocial behavior. He doesn't pick up on social cues that would signal that you're not interested in whatever he's expounding upon – the mating behavior of armadillos, for instance.
The other characters aren't quite so distasteful, but they're not cuddly specimens either. Toinette (short for Marie Antoinette) is 18 going on 35; Burma is 37 going on 22; and FX is a slimy bastard.
Wilcox is a good writer. The fact that his characters are so quirky and generally unlikeable is a testament to that fact. Wilcox writes in a similar style as John Irving, with unique characters, crazy plotlines, and dark wit. I wish I enjoyed the book.
The other characters aren't quite so distasteful, but they're not cuddly specimens either. Toinette (short for Marie Antoinette) is 18 going on 35; Burma is 37 going on 22; and FX is a slimy bastard.
Wilcox is a good writer. The fact that his characters are so quirky and generally unlikeable is a testament to that fact. Wilcox writes in a similar style as John Irving, with unique characters, crazy plotlines, and dark wit. I wish I enjoyed the book.
May 17, 2020
I bought a job lot of ten 'classic humourous literature' novels a decade or so ago, several of which ('Lucky Jim', 'Three Men in a Boat', 'Diary of a Nobody', 'Cold Comfort Farm') I read fairly quickly. This was one of the three or four which have sat on my shelf since my purchase.
It was OK. It was at least readable (contrast the dreadful 'A Confederacy of Dunces') and I think it succeeded in doing what it set out to do - a slightly farcical tale of a bit of a mess of a man and how his life is turned upside-down after he lets his half-brother stay with him in Louisiana after leaving jail. There's some humour derived from coincidences, men and women not understanding each other, contrived set-ups, slapstick and situation comedy.
I just never really connected. It was like some classic American sit-coms I have seen the odd episode of - you can understand the critical acclaim but on not finding it particularly amusing and hard to engage with, much of it doesn't really land in my humble opinion.
It was OK. It was at least readable (contrast the dreadful 'A Confederacy of Dunces') and I think it succeeded in doing what it set out to do - a slightly farcical tale of a bit of a mess of a man and how his life is turned upside-down after he lets his half-brother stay with him in Louisiana after leaving jail. There's some humour derived from coincidences, men and women not understanding each other, contrived set-ups, slapstick and situation comedy.
I just never really connected. It was like some classic American sit-coms I have seen the odd episode of - you can understand the critical acclaim but on not finding it particularly amusing and hard to engage with, much of it doesn't really land in my humble opinion.
Read
May 18, 2019takes some time to rev up so if you're not instantly, like, rolling on the floor & beating yourself in the face w/ a frying pan in laughter like the blurbists apparently were... give it a minute. this here's one of those comedies where events conspire to make a character look/act steadily more ridiculous despite all their efforts to the contrary (cf. that one seinfeld where george ends up dressed like henry viii ranting about lloyd braun) & it gets a lot of farcical mileage outta mr. pickens's unraveling, but there's also an elegiac streak: none of the principals really get what they want, the revamped community center's on a toxic waste dump, &c. reminiscent in a lotta ways of another slept-on fav of mine (yates paul: his grand flights, his tootings by james baker hall) -- which, if you've read that and haven't read this, read this; or vice versa. namaste
March 11, 2019
First half of the book was a 2 for me; I kept saying to myself Clyde Egerton does "really small town South" so much better. But second half had some great scenes, I'd give those chapters a 4. Story starts with poor Mr. Pickens, 40 years old unmarried assistant manager at town's bargain store, regretting the invitation to his half brother to share his house temporarily.
Donna Lee, the liberal daughter of local lawyer whose return to the little town of Tula Springs, is the catalyst for some of my favorite scenes.
Donna Lee, the liberal daughter of local lawyer whose return to the little town of Tula Springs, is the catalyst for some of my favorite scenes.
June 1, 2011
Jim Wilcox is one of the nicest writers I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. He's super generous with his time, gracious in his feedback on others' writing, and always the Southern gentleman. And in Modern Baptists, a sense of the genteel buts up against some fairly Faulkner-esque happenings, and the comic plot that ensues provides characters ample opportunities to miss sharply described chances at changing for the better. Tula Springs, the fictional setting of this novel, is so clearly inscribed in my mind (perhaps in part because it's not very different from the Livingston Parish home of my grandfather) that it's difficult for me to distinguish real small-town Louisiana from it. And the characters that arise out of this setting--FX and his half-brother who struggle at living together, especially--behave in classically surprising but inevitable and always funny ways that are deftly described at every turn, every page. This is, simply put, one of the best novels to come out of the South in the last 50 years.
July 3, 2019
Southern comic novel somewhat reminds me of “The Confederacy of Dunces.” Brings two half-brothers, one of whom has been in prison for a time, together, upending the other one’s life. Lots of funny, interesting characters, but I never really loved any of them. Thus, the ending was more of a denouement instead of a conclusion. Rating more accurately about 3.5 stars.
June 7, 2015
This is one of my favorite books of all time, but there's really nothing I can say about it that hasn't already been said in this review.
May 12, 2020
Ómerkileg bók. Hinn aumkunarverði Pickens var skemmtilegur karaktet framan af en smátt og smátt minnkaði áhugi minn á honum þar til ég fékk nóg. Leiðinlegar persónur, ómerkilegur söguþráður og bjánaleg persónuþróun.
August 5, 2016
Poor Bobby Pickens. His doctor has diagnosed him with malignant cancer, his half-brother, F.X., has moved in after being been released from Angola Prison, and Bobby is in danger of losing his job as assistant manager at the Sonny Boy Bargain Store in Tula Springs, Louisiana.
If that doesn't sound particularly funny, read on for a few pages and see why Bobby Pickens (or "Mr. Pickens" as he is usually addressed) might be the most amusing Southern anti-hero since Ignatius Reilly in Confederacy of Dunces. James Wilcox's Modern Baptists is filled with small-town dreamers: the handsome and Hollywood-obsessed F.X., the stuck-up and leggy red-head Toinette, and the big-hearted and big-boned Burma, who is about to be married but can't shake her longing for another man.
We see all of these characters through the very shallow lens of Mr. Pickens, a chubby, middle-aged man with a bad comb-over, several layers of self-pity, and an unfortunate talent for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. We follow him through one awkward social encounter after another. Bobby Pickens is like most of us on our worst days: unsteady, unkempt, self-conscious but yet hopelessly unaware of that piece of toilet paper sticking to the bottom of our shoe. That's every day for Mr. Pickens, and it's sometimes a wonder he can pick himself up from the plastic-covered love seat in his elderly mother's house.
James Wilcox wrote Modern Baptists in the early 1980s, and many critics have hailed it as one of the finest novels you may not know about. GQ magazine's 45th anniversary edition rated it as one of the best works of fiction in the past 45 years. It certainly must be one of the funniest. Wilcox has a dry delivery that lets you in on his characters' flaws without being heavy-handed about it. Watching two residents of Tula Springs interact is like watching a chess match between a pair of barely sober checkers players. Each has a different agenda, and each is certain that he or she is achieving it. Yet Wilcox gives you just enough information to know that no one is winning much of anything. I haven't laughed so hard reading a book in a long time.
Bobby Pickens suffers countless indignities. The other characters beat on him like a tetherball through most of the 239 pages. In one scene when Mr. Pickens kneels with another man to pray in a darkened bedroom, you cringe in anticipation of the embarrassment that is sure to come.
Through all the defeats, however, the main character of Modern Baptists carries on and maybe even earns a smidgeon of dignity along the way. If not a hero, he at least becomes someone you can root for. That is what makes Wilcox's book a study in humanity as well as humor.
If that doesn't sound particularly funny, read on for a few pages and see why Bobby Pickens (or "Mr. Pickens" as he is usually addressed) might be the most amusing Southern anti-hero since Ignatius Reilly in Confederacy of Dunces. James Wilcox's Modern Baptists is filled with small-town dreamers: the handsome and Hollywood-obsessed F.X., the stuck-up and leggy red-head Toinette, and the big-hearted and big-boned Burma, who is about to be married but can't shake her longing for another man.
We see all of these characters through the very shallow lens of Mr. Pickens, a chubby, middle-aged man with a bad comb-over, several layers of self-pity, and an unfortunate talent for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. We follow him through one awkward social encounter after another. Bobby Pickens is like most of us on our worst days: unsteady, unkempt, self-conscious but yet hopelessly unaware of that piece of toilet paper sticking to the bottom of our shoe. That's every day for Mr. Pickens, and it's sometimes a wonder he can pick himself up from the plastic-covered love seat in his elderly mother's house.
James Wilcox wrote Modern Baptists in the early 1980s, and many critics have hailed it as one of the finest novels you may not know about. GQ magazine's 45th anniversary edition rated it as one of the best works of fiction in the past 45 years. It certainly must be one of the funniest. Wilcox has a dry delivery that lets you in on his characters' flaws without being heavy-handed about it. Watching two residents of Tula Springs interact is like watching a chess match between a pair of barely sober checkers players. Each has a different agenda, and each is certain that he or she is achieving it. Yet Wilcox gives you just enough information to know that no one is winning much of anything. I haven't laughed so hard reading a book in a long time.
Bobby Pickens suffers countless indignities. The other characters beat on him like a tetherball through most of the 239 pages. In one scene when Mr. Pickens kneels with another man to pray in a darkened bedroom, you cringe in anticipation of the embarrassment that is sure to come.
Through all the defeats, however, the main character of Modern Baptists carries on and maybe even earns a smidgeon of dignity along the way. If not a hero, he at least becomes someone you can root for. That is what makes Wilcox's book a study in humanity as well as humor.
May 1, 2020
Goodreads recommended this to based on my love of Anne Tyler novels, and the copy I bought did have a gushing blurb by Tyler on the back. Despite being a quirky character-driven novel that takes place in a small Southern town (things I usually like in a book), Modern Baptists failed to move me the way a Tyler novel usually does. Mr. Pickens and his brother, F.X., were generally unlikable characters and the whole thing felt like an academic experiment by its author, a Yale graduate, who maybe said to himself, "Hmmm...let's see if I can write about a bunch of weirdos in some podunk town and make it convincing." Well, in my opinion, it wasn't. Back to Anne.
August 3, 2011
Not really sure what to make of this book. According to the reviews, the author has 'real comic genius' but I can't say I noticed it. It is certainly a different book to one that I would usually read and I haven't read one set in America for a long time. I suppose it is quite a good depiction of middle class life in America's deep south but I couldn't really relate to the central character initially. As the plot unfolded I began to understand Mr.Pickens more and more and will conclude that the book is fairly well written but probably more relevant to the American reader.
February 2, 2008
I swear I just must not get it.... one of my best, funniest friends gave this to me. And I hated it. Simply abhorred it. ?
July 28, 2018
Tedious
May 5, 2017
I discovered this book in a search for "authors like Charles Portis," which I knew was a fool's errand but couldn't resist the possibility that there might, somewhere, be another author out there I liked as much.
So of course my first reactions to "Modern Baptists" were of a comparative nature, and generally negative-- I'd say the closest Portis analogue is "Norwood," and "Norwood" got me laughing a lot more and a lot louder. However, as I made my way through Wilcox's novel, it grew on me in all the right ways. It *is* funny--but seldom laugh-out-loud funny. Though Wilcox does engage freely in slapstick, it's often simultaneously sad. At the same time, all that's sad in his novel-- the unlovable-ness of his protagonist, the brokenness of FX, the general decrepitude of Tula Springs-- becomes gradually funny. It does so not because Wilcox is mocking the subjects of his novel (an issue I'm having with a later novel of his, "Sort of Rich," though I am going to wait it out and see if his satire shifts or softens), but because they prove to be richer, more capacious, in some ways even more self-aware than they had seemed initially. For instance, Bobby is a creepy middle-aged man infatuated with a much younger woman-- but he realizes, as he's sitting in his car watching said younger woman at her cheerleading practice, that this is exactly what he must look like. So he drives away--without judging himself too harshly. Similarly, I found myself judging the book's misfit characters less and less harshly as the story progressed. Life is rough, and we cope as we can, with laughter and especially with forgiveness.
I also really admired Wilcox's powers to evoke a sense of place. Without drawing attention to his atmospheric stylings, he managed to make Tula Springs come vividly alive, in its decrepitude and its beauty.
So why only four stars? I must return, ultimately, to a Charles Portis comparison--though one of (I hope) a higher order. For those of you who have read "Norwood," you will remember its symphonic ending--the way the apparently scattered, haphazard plot comes together, and so do the characters, in unexpected but completely fitting ways. It seemed to me that "Modern Baptists" had similar aspirations for its ending; but I wasn't totally convinced by the way the loose ends were tied. The Christmas Party, which was a great place (from a plot perspective) to end things, left me feeling cold; and the romantic pairings at the end seemed to me (in the one case) odd or borderline perverse, and (in the other case) unconvincing. I felt that Wilcox was taking more of a trendy-short-story-writer approach to his material at the end, which in my opinion sold his novel a bit short.
BUT. All this being said, I still loved the novel and would highly recommend it. It's a page-turner, revelatory and funny and absorbing and Southern. You'll be glad you read it.
So of course my first reactions to "Modern Baptists" were of a comparative nature, and generally negative-- I'd say the closest Portis analogue is "Norwood," and "Norwood" got me laughing a lot more and a lot louder. However, as I made my way through Wilcox's novel, it grew on me in all the right ways. It *is* funny--but seldom laugh-out-loud funny. Though Wilcox does engage freely in slapstick, it's often simultaneously sad. At the same time, all that's sad in his novel-- the unlovable-ness of his protagonist, the brokenness of FX, the general decrepitude of Tula Springs-- becomes gradually funny. It does so not because Wilcox is mocking the subjects of his novel (an issue I'm having with a later novel of his, "Sort of Rich," though I am going to wait it out and see if his satire shifts or softens), but because they prove to be richer, more capacious, in some ways even more self-aware than they had seemed initially. For instance, Bobby is a creepy middle-aged man infatuated with a much younger woman-- but he realizes, as he's sitting in his car watching said younger woman at her cheerleading practice, that this is exactly what he must look like. So he drives away--without judging himself too harshly. Similarly, I found myself judging the book's misfit characters less and less harshly as the story progressed. Life is rough, and we cope as we can, with laughter and especially with forgiveness.
I also really admired Wilcox's powers to evoke a sense of place. Without drawing attention to his atmospheric stylings, he managed to make Tula Springs come vividly alive, in its decrepitude and its beauty.
So why only four stars? I must return, ultimately, to a Charles Portis comparison--though one of (I hope) a higher order. For those of you who have read "Norwood," you will remember its symphonic ending--the way the apparently scattered, haphazard plot comes together, and so do the characters, in unexpected but completely fitting ways. It seemed to me that "Modern Baptists" had similar aspirations for its ending; but I wasn't totally convinced by the way the loose ends were tied. The Christmas Party, which was a great place (from a plot perspective) to end things, left me feeling cold; and the romantic pairings at the end seemed to me (in the one case) odd or borderline perverse, and (in the other case) unconvincing. I felt that Wilcox was taking more of a trendy-short-story-writer approach to his material at the end, which in my opinion sold his novel a bit short.
BUT. All this being said, I still loved the novel and would highly recommend it. It's a page-turner, revelatory and funny and absorbing and Southern. You'll be glad you read it.
May 29, 2024
Before I can review this I have to say what a shame it is that I seem to have the only copy in the world of the Penguin Contemporary Fiction Edition (1984) with the illustration by Greg Couch as the cover. I never, ever, would have picked up ANY of the copies with the covers I've seen online and the only reason this book has been sitting on my shelf for literal YEARS is because I love the cover so much I couldn't stand to get rid of it (and generally once I've read something it goes out the door). I can't show it to you here since there isn't anything online to link to....just trust me - it's fantastic. Mr. Pickens torso is in the bottom center. He is wearing an open-collared white dress shirt with a little undershirt showing and there is a devil on one shoulder and and angel on the other. Behind him is a Tula Springs street with stores for movies, music, and cocktails on the devil's side and a church and fire hall on the angel's side. It's a great image. The title and author's name are in a bright orange on a blue background (the sky part of the street image) and it really pops. I don't think any of the other covers convey the image that there's something funny happening inside - and there is. This might be a long and misguided note but I just can't stand that I won't see that image on my "read" shelf!
Anyway - the story happens to be great, too. Its time and place make it obviously reminiscent of Confederacy of Dunces - at least for me. The characters solidified the connection - mainly, two men who don't know how to get their lives together. The players who fall into their path certainly have their own issues but it's Mr. Pickens and his half-brother F.X. (who just got out of Angola) who drive the story.
There's a strange sense that nothing happens even though lots of things happen in this story. I think this is mostly because Wilcox has the characters reacting to everything that happens and never being proactive about anything. It makes it seem as if they are just along for the ride, in a manner of speaking, which is a weird way to feel about a book's main characters. It's this lack of control, however, that makes the whole thing such a farce and so fun to read.
I will absolutely check out some of Wilcox's other books that take place in Tula Springs - it's a crazy little town and I can't wait to see what everyone else's troubles are!
Anyway - the story happens to be great, too. Its time and place make it obviously reminiscent of Confederacy of Dunces - at least for me. The characters solidified the connection - mainly, two men who don't know how to get their lives together. The players who fall into their path certainly have their own issues but it's Mr. Pickens and his half-brother F.X. (who just got out of Angola) who drive the story.
There's a strange sense that nothing happens even though lots of things happen in this story. I think this is mostly because Wilcox has the characters reacting to everything that happens and never being proactive about anything. It makes it seem as if they are just along for the ride, in a manner of speaking, which is a weird way to feel about a book's main characters. It's this lack of control, however, that makes the whole thing such a farce and so fun to read.
I will absolutely check out some of Wilcox's other books that take place in Tula Springs - it's a crazy little town and I can't wait to see what everyone else's troubles are!
April 1, 2010
This is another one of those books: I’m not sure whether I’m judging myself or the book.
This is humorous fiction. The characters are more or less ordinary people living in a small town in Louisiana. Almost all reflect the community’s lack of intellectual, educational and financial opportunity. At the beginning, Mr. Pickens is an assistant manager of what seems to be a cheap “department store” called Sonny Boy. Two of the prominent female characters are Burma, in her late thirties, and Toinette, much younger; both work there. The book opens with the arrival of Mr. Pickens’ half brother, F.X., who has just been released from prison after serving time for a small cocaine sale. These and other characters struggle with their yearnings, mostly for love (and maybe for meaning) within the confines of Tula Springs. They do absurd things and things that turn out absurdly. And they yearn to get beyond their failings.
Critics have given Wilcox’ work enormous praise and Modern Baptists seems to be his most highly regarded novel. According to the cover squibs, it is a comedic novel and Wilcox is a comic genius. Anne Tyler, no less, says she “laughed so hard” she kept forgetting to mark passages for use in her review.
I liked this book a lot; maybe it comes closer to 4 stars for me than 3. I finished it last night and already it is growing on me. While I read it, I smiled a lot, at least inwardly, and I got two soft outward chuckles out of it, perhaps as much as anything at the concept of modern Baptists who would allow you progressively more vice as you got older– Mr. Pickens’ version of the church he considers founding. But I didn’t have Anne Tyler’s reaction (and who am I not to?). Nor was I enormously amused at the other fictional humor book I’ve listed on Goodreads (de Vries).
So is it me, lacking appropriate physical responses to humor (no hard laughing), or is it the book?
As soon as I ask myself that question, I instantly want to defend the book: I liked it. I’ve been trying lately to find the kind of analysis of humor that my academic background (not in literature) leads me to seek – a long article or short book that carefully analyzes and illustrates types of humor in fiction, with abundant examples and a clear explanation why it works as it does. Almost despairing, I’m reading humorous fiction, meaning that I’m looking for humor. Therefore, it’s my fault, not the book’s, that I failed to laugh so hard I lost my place in the book.
That leads me to ask myself this morning what I laugh at, and I surprise myself by what first comes to mind: Michael Keaton’s wonderful performance as Dogberry in Branagh’s Much Ado About Nothing. And not just Keaton, but Shakespeare’s lines themselves. The second thing that came to mind was Falstaff. Whoa. Am I stuck in this kind of rollicking 17th century humor?
I’m thinking that humor in fiction (and I don’t mean wit or witty language or the subtler delights of irony) is often based on how the author treats flaws of the characters. It is surely easier to laugh when a pretentious character is exposed, especially when, as with Dogberry, he exposes his own pretentiousness. (Dogberry, a man with shaky grasp of words and their meanings, is trying nevertheless to impress with his high language. He manages to say seemingly contradictory things like “thou villain, thou art full of piety,”– a line that reveals Dogberry’s ignorance and maybe also take a swipe at those who are full of piety but in fact also villainous, so we might even have layers of laughter.)
But Wilcox characters, though maybe familiar, are not stereotypes, and their flaws are mostly of a different order than those of Falstaff and Dogberry. Their flaws derive mostly from their confinement and their painful, unsatisfied yearnings, yearnings we are allowed to see and experience. That’s true even with the preachy, controlling Donna Lee. No doubt even Dogberry has his yearings, but we are not allowed to see those acted out. To be sure, Wilcox treats his characters’ failings lighttheartedly, humorously; neither their flaws nor their actions are grand enough for an easy tragedy. And they are indeed absurd and funny at times. But we also see their very real feelings, especially in the main characters here.
A teacher I respect enormously once warned that the author must not be patronizing (nor invite the reader to be). Yet, much of the humor (apart from clever or witty language) is based on character flaws, treated lightly. How is the author to avoid being a put-down artist if, after all, he is making fun of his characters? Perhaps by proportioning the humorous jibe to the targeted flaw? By making the character evil as well as flawed, so that the put-down is deserved? By giving the character a redeeming grace on some surprising matter, so they are not merely inadequate but have other dimensions, too? Wilcox, it seems to me, solved the problem by giving his characters human misery and yearning, treated lightly, to be sure, but very real. As one blub-quoted reviewer said, Wilcox had enough kindness toward his characters to make us care.
Maybe Wilcox' humane feelings for his characters damped my laughter. I guess if your funny characters are suffering, no matter how ridiculous their pains appear from the point of view of readers with relatively advantaged lives, the book must finely balance their suffering and their absurd actions. Even that won’t guarantee all readers will laugh out loud, because some readers will surely react to the characters’ pain and desire so much that outright laughter is hard to reach; compassionate smiles at characters' ridiculous actions are about all such readers can manage. Other readers, maybe more balanced, can, in Lyndon Johnson’s elegant phrase, fart and chew gum at the same time – feel for the characters and laugh at them, too. So I’m still not sure if my failure to achieve Anne Tyler laughter is me or the book.
One thing I am sure of: less than half a day from finishing it, it is growing on me and I love this book.
This is humorous fiction. The characters are more or less ordinary people living in a small town in Louisiana. Almost all reflect the community’s lack of intellectual, educational and financial opportunity. At the beginning, Mr. Pickens is an assistant manager of what seems to be a cheap “department store” called Sonny Boy. Two of the prominent female characters are Burma, in her late thirties, and Toinette, much younger; both work there. The book opens with the arrival of Mr. Pickens’ half brother, F.X., who has just been released from prison after serving time for a small cocaine sale. These and other characters struggle with their yearnings, mostly for love (and maybe for meaning) within the confines of Tula Springs. They do absurd things and things that turn out absurdly. And they yearn to get beyond their failings.
Critics have given Wilcox’ work enormous praise and Modern Baptists seems to be his most highly regarded novel. According to the cover squibs, it is a comedic novel and Wilcox is a comic genius. Anne Tyler, no less, says she “laughed so hard” she kept forgetting to mark passages for use in her review.
I liked this book a lot; maybe it comes closer to 4 stars for me than 3. I finished it last night and already it is growing on me. While I read it, I smiled a lot, at least inwardly, and I got two soft outward chuckles out of it, perhaps as much as anything at the concept of modern Baptists who would allow you progressively more vice as you got older– Mr. Pickens’ version of the church he considers founding. But I didn’t have Anne Tyler’s reaction (and who am I not to?). Nor was I enormously amused at the other fictional humor book I’ve listed on Goodreads (de Vries).
So is it me, lacking appropriate physical responses to humor (no hard laughing), or is it the book?
As soon as I ask myself that question, I instantly want to defend the book: I liked it. I’ve been trying lately to find the kind of analysis of humor that my academic background (not in literature) leads me to seek – a long article or short book that carefully analyzes and illustrates types of humor in fiction, with abundant examples and a clear explanation why it works as it does. Almost despairing, I’m reading humorous fiction, meaning that I’m looking for humor. Therefore, it’s my fault, not the book’s, that I failed to laugh so hard I lost my place in the book.
That leads me to ask myself this morning what I laugh at, and I surprise myself by what first comes to mind: Michael Keaton’s wonderful performance as Dogberry in Branagh’s Much Ado About Nothing. And not just Keaton, but Shakespeare’s lines themselves. The second thing that came to mind was Falstaff. Whoa. Am I stuck in this kind of rollicking 17th century humor?
I’m thinking that humor in fiction (and I don’t mean wit or witty language or the subtler delights of irony) is often based on how the author treats flaws of the characters. It is surely easier to laugh when a pretentious character is exposed, especially when, as with Dogberry, he exposes his own pretentiousness. (Dogberry, a man with shaky grasp of words and their meanings, is trying nevertheless to impress with his high language. He manages to say seemingly contradictory things like “thou villain, thou art full of piety,”– a line that reveals Dogberry’s ignorance and maybe also take a swipe at those who are full of piety but in fact also villainous, so we might even have layers of laughter.)
But Wilcox characters, though maybe familiar, are not stereotypes, and their flaws are mostly of a different order than those of Falstaff and Dogberry. Their flaws derive mostly from their confinement and their painful, unsatisfied yearnings, yearnings we are allowed to see and experience. That’s true even with the preachy, controlling Donna Lee. No doubt even Dogberry has his yearings, but we are not allowed to see those acted out. To be sure, Wilcox treats his characters’ failings lighttheartedly, humorously; neither their flaws nor their actions are grand enough for an easy tragedy. And they are indeed absurd and funny at times. But we also see their very real feelings, especially in the main characters here.
A teacher I respect enormously once warned that the author must not be patronizing (nor invite the reader to be). Yet, much of the humor (apart from clever or witty language) is based on character flaws, treated lightly. How is the author to avoid being a put-down artist if, after all, he is making fun of his characters? Perhaps by proportioning the humorous jibe to the targeted flaw? By making the character evil as well as flawed, so that the put-down is deserved? By giving the character a redeeming grace on some surprising matter, so they are not merely inadequate but have other dimensions, too? Wilcox, it seems to me, solved the problem by giving his characters human misery and yearning, treated lightly, to be sure, but very real. As one blub-quoted reviewer said, Wilcox had enough kindness toward his characters to make us care.
Maybe Wilcox' humane feelings for his characters damped my laughter. I guess if your funny characters are suffering, no matter how ridiculous their pains appear from the point of view of readers with relatively advantaged lives, the book must finely balance their suffering and their absurd actions. Even that won’t guarantee all readers will laugh out loud, because some readers will surely react to the characters’ pain and desire so much that outright laughter is hard to reach; compassionate smiles at characters' ridiculous actions are about all such readers can manage. Other readers, maybe more balanced, can, in Lyndon Johnson’s elegant phrase, fart and chew gum at the same time – feel for the characters and laugh at them, too. So I’m still not sure if my failure to achieve Anne Tyler laughter is me or the book.
One thing I am sure of: less than half a day from finishing it, it is growing on me and I love this book.
November 22, 2021
I've been going off fiction a little due in part to maybe the type of fiction I have been reading.
Nothing wrong with it but usually it's some ripping yarn which satisfies but has no real gravity after it finishes...as such it was great to read something like this wholly unknown to me but something that gripped me throughout.
It has a darkly numerous underbelly and is really the story of life getting somewhat out of control...I could give a better synopsis but in honesty best read.
Anyhow it's one of those works of fiction I think will grow on in memory or one I will mention here and there in time.
Nothing wrong with it but usually it's some ripping yarn which satisfies but has no real gravity after it finishes...as such it was great to read something like this wholly unknown to me but something that gripped me throughout.
It has a darkly numerous underbelly and is really the story of life getting somewhat out of control...I could give a better synopsis but in honesty best read.
Anyhow it's one of those works of fiction I think will grow on in memory or one I will mention here and there in time.
November 6, 2025
I found this 1983 book while cleaning out our garage and decided it would be a nice short read in between book club books. It was a stressful read for me with all the crap going on with the MAGA/tRump administration and the SNAP crisis and govt shutdown. Obviously norms in the 1980’s (smoking, rampant misogyny) don’t play well in 2025 — I remember those days and reliving them made me uncomfortable and angry at sexist expectations and how women were treated. The characters in the book are lost and sad. Mr. Pickens, FX, Bruma, Tonietta, all just remind me of poor rural people who are brainwashed into MAGA but their lives are caught in unfulfilling cycle.
April 12, 2022
I'm so impressed by this author's writing, his economy of words, his portrayal of characters (at once both efficient and poignant). He captures life in small town segregationist Louisiana with precision and subtlety, never resorting to stock characterizations or stereotypes. The writing carries a sense of humor and satire that too is subtly rendered.
There are a number of characters whose lives get intertwined over the course of the book, and as such I can envision this rendered in theatrical form.
Again, most impressed by the absence of any wasted words in the prose.
There are a number of characters whose lives get intertwined over the course of the book, and as such I can envision this rendered in theatrical form.
Again, most impressed by the absence of any wasted words in the prose.
August 15, 2022
6/10 10% Another classic obviously above my meagre intellect. A pleasant enough short read but hardly “acutely comic (1 minor titter circa every 30 pages) nor as psychologically penetrating” as described. By the end I felt slightly invested in what happened next to the central characters, but not enough to read a sequel if one even existed. Another for the charity shop.
December 21, 2025
One of the funniest novels I've ever read. Equal parts wry and laugh-out-loud funny. I read this as part of a Modern Southern Novel class I took with Donald Hayes in grad school.
May 13, 2017
The characters in this book are alot of fun- nothing like backwoods Louisiana.
September 26, 2017
This was the first James Wilcox novel I've read but it won't be the last. Quirky, funny and a good read - I enjoyed it and am definitely going to check out his other work.
March 31, 2018
A funny story, but that's all it is: a funny story with no substance.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 79 reviews