Tupelo

by Alec Clayton

A tale told from beyond the grave by Kevin Lumpkin, the youngest of a set of identical twins, Tupelo is the story of a small town in an era of reluctant change. as seen through the eyes of a white boy born to privilege who comes of age in the time of Freedom Riders, lunch counter sit-ins, civil rights marches and demonstrations. Born in 1943 on the night when their father’s hardware store burns to the ground, Kevin and his brother grow up in idyllic times, the boom years of the 1950s—football, fast cars, rock and roll, and dates with the cutest girls in school. But gradually he discovers that he and his family live in a protected bubble while less than a block away in an area known as The Alley, a handful of black families live in poverty, almost invisible to Kevin and his family. He develops a crush on Maddie Jean, a young girl from The Alley, but they both know they can never be friends. He watches in confusion as his white friends react to the growing civil rights movement, in horror as they riot on campus at nearby Ole Miss when James Meredith breaks the color barrier at the university, and he witnesses the trial of another child of The Alley who is falsely accused of rape and murder.

348 pages, Paperback

Published September 1, 2016

About the author

Born in Tupelo, Mississippi in 1943, I grew up in the Deep South and later moved to New York and later still to Olympia, Washington. I am a painter as well as a writer and continue to show in galleries in the Seattle and Tacoma areas. I write regular art and theater reviews for area newspapers. I am also a gay rights activist.
Although not autobiographical, the settings settings for my novels are the places where I have lived, and my personal involvement in the arts and glbt issues play a large role. My novels are self-published. My first two novels, "Until the Dawn" and "Imprudent Zeal," are about artists. "The Wives of Marty Winters," a work in progress, is about a newspaper editor and gay rights activist. All three are family sagas covering many decades.

Reviews

[Courtney · Rating 5 out of 5]

It's a rare thing to read a book that makes you cry, cringe and laugh out loud -- consistently! This is Tupelo for me.

Let's start at the beginning..."I never understood how my twin brother grew to hate me. At least I couldn't get it while we were still alive." From that line I was captivated by this book. Clayton is a master storyteller and while admittedly semi-autobiographical, his creative genius captures you from the get go.

I love characters in this book and that to me is what keeps one reading. Who else has parents called Punkin' and Driver? Who names their identical twins Kevin and Evan Lumpkin? These two get into countless mischievous acts from hiding and dancing naked in a hidden compartment off the attic, to getting attacked by a rabid dog along with some "colored" children.

There is much to do about race and adversity and the South from 1945 onward into the late 60s. I actually liked it better than The Help from that respect because it is so honest. Kevin's attraction to his maid's daughter Maddie Jean is tender and also a bit sexist at times: .."my attraction to her was at least partially becase she was Black. It was the myth of the highly sexed Black woman" (don't worry Maddie Jean slaps him and tells him off good several times). Kevin says things that sometimes appall you (yes, as a woman) but he's so humble and apologetic and gets when he is in the wrong. Students today could benefit from reading this book and looping back to Black Lives Matter discussion around current events.

The Elvis factor is a hidden gem in the book since Elvis grew up in Tupelo, but it's not a major part of the story. If you grew up in the South during this time though I HIGHLY recommend reading it as Clayton has a firm grasp on the era and descriptions of music, cars and all the rest. I was not prepared for the ending which turns out to be a murder mystery in the courtroom with young journalist Kevin trying to figure out his past and present convictions not to mention all the familiar ties of his youth. Black man accused of killing and raping white woman. I know, I know, but the conclusion is NOT what you expect and gives one hope. I have no doubt this could be made into a fantastic movie as well. Did I mention the twins are charming even as Evan becomes kind of an ass over time? Their bond seems unbreakable which is amazing given what they go through.

I highly recommend this book for anyone who loves quirky, colorful characters, historical novels or memoirs. Share with your friends too. Already bought a copy for my Dad and his book club!

[Christina Butcher · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tupelo is the story of a young man and his family navigating through an evolving cultural landscape, and it is told with a hell of a lot more honesty than other books in the same genre. Oh, and the overall quality of his storytelling is on point, too.

Set in a small Mississippi town struggling to adjust to change during the mid-twentieth century, Tupelo could have been a book about a young, white and male protagonist making all the right moves during his youth and eventually, bridging the cultural and political gap between whites and African American’s during the Civil Rights Movement. It could have been a hero’s journey full of moments where the protagonist did exactly the right thing at exactly the right time and played a pivotal role in changing the world around him. But it isn’t. It’s much more honest than that.

Clayton provides a truer picture of what it was like to grow up in the confusing and racially and politically charged times of the 1950’s and 60’s. His protagonist doesn’t make all the right moves, he isn’t always at the center of the action, and he doesn’t try to cover up the unpopular or insensitive views of the people in his life. Instead, Tupelo offers readers a realistic look at a family and community who aren’t only concerned with the civil rights movement, but are entrenched in their own ups and downs, budding and failing relationships and struggles to survive. It’s about the change, and lack thereof, that a young man, his family and his community are all facing in the midst of an evolving cultural landscape.

And to be perfectly honest, I think Clayton’s focus on representing his youth honestly and without unnecessary fanfare would have been lost on readers if Clayton wasn’t such a strong storyteller. Tupelo is full of sidebar adventures and peripheral characters that eventually circle back to the main plot-line, but the digressions don’t feel unnecessary because Clayton does an excellent job weaving them into the fabric of his larger story. Tupelo’s characters have a healthy dose of positive and negative personality traits, too, which keeps readers invested in the story even when it’s taken a detour. And true to his promise, Clayton ties up any loose ends before readers reach the end of their literary journey.

[Samuel Snoek-Brown · Rating 4 out of 5]

A charming book written in a classic Southern-storyteller voice, full of seeming non sequiturs that, if you know the cadence of Southern storytelling, aren't non sequiturs at all -- they're crucial sidebars to the main narrative that appear where they happen to turn up in the storyteller's mind. It's a clever bit of craftsmanship from Alec Clayton that solidly helps bring to life this charming (and sometimes harrowing) life saga.

[Ned Hayes · Rating 4 out of 5]

Alec Clayton is a true original, delivering his readers a fraught and powerful story of family and community laboring through the past decades of change in the South. Tupelo is a haunting and personal tale, reminiscent of the best of Pat Conroy. Highly recommended!

[Bev · Rating 4 out of 5]

Whenever I finish an Alec Clayton novel I again suspect that this good ol' boy raised in the South is secretly a Russian author. His novels are filled with so many characters -- many of whom are called by more than one, or even more than two different names -- that you might as well be reading Dostoyevsky. Ah...but Dostoyevsky wasn't as much fun. The problems with this cast of thousands and the episodic nature of the story is that it becomes difficult to care about any one person. This is the story of a town and its residents, particularly the friends of the narrator, Kevin, who is the identical twin to Evan and with whom he has a life-long love-hate relationship. It follows the kids through the segregated 50s and the tumultuous 60s and the beginning of the civil rights era. It shows events through the eyes of kids, who were kinda sorta aware of what was going on, but not really.

What keeps you going is Clayton's style, which flows beautifully. His descriptions are fun to read. And if I have any real complaint is that as a professional writer and newsman, he really, really should have had a better proofreader. Too many really sloppy grammar and spelling mistakes ("site" when he means "sight", "Evan and I" when he means "Evan and me." There aren't a lot of these mistakes, but enough to make me cringe when I stumble on them.