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Deep South Books
B-Four
Newspapers, the Civil War, love, barbecue . . . Nothing escapes Hodges's twisted sense of southern culture in his outrageous novel B-Four.
Beauregard Forrest has been a faithful son to his wealthy and quirky father, joining him in Civil War reenactments and morning coffee, and an uncomplaining second fiddle to his brother Jackson, an ex-Crimson Tide football player.
To please his father, Beauregard works as a cub reporter at the Birmingham Standard-Dispatch, a job his father hopes will raise Beauregard's college entrance test scores and gain him admittance to prestigious and gentrified Washington and Lee University.
Far from honing his skills and sharpening his wit, however, Beauregard's assignments at the Standard-Dispatch--Pet of the Week and obituaries--promise to bury him in Section B, Page 4, hence his nickname.
Beauregard's road to Page 1 is filled with more potholes than an Alabama back road. Assigned to cover a speech by a British cleric, the young reporter believes he may have escaped journalistic limbo, only to discover the entire sermon delivered in Latin. When he files his story partly in Latin, he finds himself once again covering breaking news at the Humane Society.
Hoping to woo his love interest, Lorena, and wow his fellow reporters with a sizzling front-page scoop, B-Four investigates an anti-Atlanta campaign organized by the Birmingham Boosters. The hilarity that ensues launches him on the road to self-discovery.
Beauregard Forrest has been a faithful son to his wealthy and quirky father, joining him in Civil War reenactments and morning coffee, and an uncomplaining second fiddle to his brother Jackson, an ex-Crimson Tide football player.
To please his father, Beauregard works as a cub reporter at the Birmingham Standard-Dispatch, a job his father hopes will raise Beauregard's college entrance test scores and gain him admittance to prestigious and gentrified Washington and Lee University.
Far from honing his skills and sharpening his wit, however, Beauregard's assignments at the Standard-Dispatch--Pet of the Week and obituaries--promise to bury him in Section B, Page 4, hence his nickname.
Beauregard's road to Page 1 is filled with more potholes than an Alabama back road. Assigned to cover a speech by a British cleric, the young reporter believes he may have escaped journalistic limbo, only to discover the entire sermon delivered in Latin. When he files his story partly in Latin, he finds himself once again covering breaking news at the Humane Society.
Hoping to woo his love interest, Lorena, and wow his fellow reporters with a sizzling front-page scoop, B-Four investigates an anti-Atlanta campaign organized by the Birmingham Boosters. The hilarity that ensues launches him on the road to self-discovery.
288 pages, Paperback
First published June 1, 1992
27 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
March 12, 2023
BOOK REPORT
It is so fitting, in an almost unbelievably bittersweet way, that I read this book this week of all weeks.
That is because the venerable Birmingham News ceased to exist after this past Sunday—February 26, 2023—after having been in production continuously, in some for or another, since its inception in either 1887 or 1888, depending on which authoritative account one chooses to cite. (An undisputed fact is that “the newspaper” was called a few different things until receiving its longstanding moniker in 1894.)
Point being: The edition that rolled off the presses a few days ago marked the end of a more-than 130-year-old institution. An institution that influenced my choice of university study, my career, my friendships and familial and romantic relationships, and my approach to politics, finance, and professionalism.
Oh, sure, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky, I get that. I really, really do. But it was still hard to stomach, the idea that something that once seemed to quite literally hold a community together could just be….gone.
But we all knew it was coming. Even back when my former journalism colleague Sam Hodges wrote B-Four, which was published in 1992.
Exhibit A, this from p62: Price and the Midwesterners worried openly about the future of newspapers, given the decline in circulation and death of so many afternoon dailies; but at breakfast, everybody grabbing for it, the newspaper seemed as essential as forks and knives.
[Unrelated to most of the rest of this little essay: Why didn’t Sam say knives and forks? Don’t most people say it that way?]
I happened to be reading this book because another former journalism colleague, my college friend John Archibald, wrote about it in his weekly newsletter. John had been with the Birmingham News since 1986; he remains with the media company that subsumed it, and does damn fine work comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable. As did Sam when I knew him; we’ve basically lost touch over lo, so many decades, after first meeting when we were both working at The Orlando Sentinel in 1987.** John, winner of a Pulitzer Prize for Commentary and author of the non-fiction book Shaking the Gates of Hell, had just been one of a team of journalists honored with the George Polk Award, the oldest journalism award in the United States of America. John mentioned that it was only the second time an Alabama-based media outlet had received it, and that Sam was one of the previous honorees.
John then went on to say: “Sam Hodges, by the way, is the author of one of my favorite – and one of the most under-rated – Alabama books: B-Four. It features newspapers, corruption, Civil War reenactment and searching for records at the Birmingham School Board. B-Four, by the way, is a reference to Section B, Page 4 of a newspaper, where all the unimportant news went to die. Read it.”
I responded: “Thank you for reminding me about Sam Hodges' book; I've had it on my Goodreads To Read list for forever. Went ahead and ordered it this morning.”***
John then responded: “I haven’t read it in 30 years, but loved it then. Hope it holds up.”
Well, yes and no, John. Yes and no.
If you ever worked in journalism in or near Birmingham at any point from about the mid 1970s to the early 2000s, then yes, this book holds up. It is a lovely walk down memory lane for those of us ink-stained wretches who truly believed that we were the living embodiment of the fourth pillar of democracy, that what we did _mattered_, and that there was no greater honor known to man than to have one’s byline above the fold on A1 come a Sunday morning.****
It was also a fun look at Alabama’s “Magic City” during a certain era.
I just don’t think it would be as enjoyable a read for anyone who is not a journalist, active or recovering. Also, sadly, there are some folks out there who probably wouldn’t be able to read this as a work of historical fiction; they’d want to take issue with a lot of the “War Between the States” references and seeming veneration of Robert E. Lee. A couple of times some of this seemed a little much even to me, and I remember quite well when such was simply an accepted fact of life where I lived. I’m just not used to reading about it in that way any longer.
So, 5 stars for some great writing and memories, but rounding down because of the overall reading experience.
AND NOW IT’S ASTERISK TIME!
Well, almost. Before I get to them, let me note for the record that Sam had worked for the now-long-defunct
Birmingham Post-Herald before writing this book, and not the Birmingham News. But the two were housed in the same building, and everybody knew each other.
The Orlando Sentinel in 1987.**
Let me also be quite clear on this point: I was a paid summer intern on the features desk and Sam was an actual, honest-to-gosh, bigshot (to me) reporter at the time. But that is where we first met. I eventually did a short stint at the News on the business desk in the early 2000s. He worked for the parent company at a sister paper, the Mobile Press-Register and then as a correspondent in Washington, D.C. We never crossed newsroom paths as journalists other than that one summer. But I kept up with him for a long time both as a friend and as corporate communications practitioner who needed to stay in touch with reporters on certain beats. Am using the reading of this book as an excuse to get back in touch.
"Went ahead and ordered it this morning."***
This is significant because I do not, for the most part, buy books. (Long story about a little book-related credit card debt in the ‘90s…..) But because I’d wanted to read this for so long and it was back on my radar screen yet not available at any library to which I have access, I made the rare exception.
No greater honor known to man than to have one’s byline above the fold on A1 come a Sunday morning.****
The Associated Press, once the undisputed arbiter of all things printed, also once said “man” was to be considered non-gender specific in such usages. This of course has since changed. Today it would make more sense to just say “no greater honor than to have one’s byline.” But it feels weird to write it that way, even now. So this time I didn’t. CULTURAL FOSSIL THAT I AM.
This particular asterisk set also includes reference to the belief "that what we did _mattered_." Please don't misunderstand me; the work true journalists do today still matters. It matters very, very much. Which is why it is so distressing to see it devalued in so many ways.
IN SUMMARY
It is also fitting and bittersweet that I finished this book today, February 28, 2023, on what would’ve been my late father’s 82nd birthday. He is the one who got me into journalism, taking me to school board meetings when I was in middle school and then asking me to compare what I read in the paper about the meetings with what I had experienced firsthand. He and Mother both read the local paper and the Birmingham News cover to cover, setting great examples for all of their children.
I remember being so, so excited when my above the fold A1 was a NASCAR-related business story, because Daddy was such a big racing fan. Felt like I had outkicked my coverage with that one, so to speak.
Ah, the memories. I’d keep writing, were it not for the tears slicking up my keyboard.
Roll Tide, y’all. Roll Tide.
It is so fitting, in an almost unbelievably bittersweet way, that I read this book this week of all weeks.
That is because the venerable Birmingham News ceased to exist after this past Sunday—February 26, 2023—after having been in production continuously, in some for or another, since its inception in either 1887 or 1888, depending on which authoritative account one chooses to cite. (An undisputed fact is that “the newspaper” was called a few different things until receiving its longstanding moniker in 1894.)
Point being: The edition that rolled off the presses a few days ago marked the end of a more-than 130-year-old institution. An institution that influenced my choice of university study, my career, my friendships and familial and romantic relationships, and my approach to politics, finance, and professionalism.
Oh, sure, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky, I get that. I really, really do. But it was still hard to stomach, the idea that something that once seemed to quite literally hold a community together could just be….gone.
But we all knew it was coming. Even back when my former journalism colleague Sam Hodges wrote B-Four, which was published in 1992.
Exhibit A, this from p62: Price and the Midwesterners worried openly about the future of newspapers, given the decline in circulation and death of so many afternoon dailies; but at breakfast, everybody grabbing for it, the newspaper seemed as essential as forks and knives.
[Unrelated to most of the rest of this little essay: Why didn’t Sam say knives and forks? Don’t most people say it that way?]
I happened to be reading this book because another former journalism colleague, my college friend John Archibald, wrote about it in his weekly newsletter. John had been with the Birmingham News since 1986; he remains with the media company that subsumed it, and does damn fine work comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable. As did Sam when I knew him; we’ve basically lost touch over lo, so many decades, after first meeting when we were both working at The Orlando Sentinel in 1987.** John, winner of a Pulitzer Prize for Commentary and author of the non-fiction book Shaking the Gates of Hell, had just been one of a team of journalists honored with the George Polk Award, the oldest journalism award in the United States of America. John mentioned that it was only the second time an Alabama-based media outlet had received it, and that Sam was one of the previous honorees.
John then went on to say: “Sam Hodges, by the way, is the author of one of my favorite – and one of the most under-rated – Alabama books: B-Four. It features newspapers, corruption, Civil War reenactment and searching for records at the Birmingham School Board. B-Four, by the way, is a reference to Section B, Page 4 of a newspaper, where all the unimportant news went to die. Read it.”
I responded: “Thank you for reminding me about Sam Hodges' book; I've had it on my Goodreads To Read list for forever. Went ahead and ordered it this morning.”***
John then responded: “I haven’t read it in 30 years, but loved it then. Hope it holds up.”
Well, yes and no, John. Yes and no.
If you ever worked in journalism in or near Birmingham at any point from about the mid 1970s to the early 2000s, then yes, this book holds up. It is a lovely walk down memory lane for those of us ink-stained wretches who truly believed that we were the living embodiment of the fourth pillar of democracy, that what we did _mattered_, and that there was no greater honor known to man than to have one’s byline above the fold on A1 come a Sunday morning.****
It was also a fun look at Alabama’s “Magic City” during a certain era.
I just don’t think it would be as enjoyable a read for anyone who is not a journalist, active or recovering. Also, sadly, there are some folks out there who probably wouldn’t be able to read this as a work of historical fiction; they’d want to take issue with a lot of the “War Between the States” references and seeming veneration of Robert E. Lee. A couple of times some of this seemed a little much even to me, and I remember quite well when such was simply an accepted fact of life where I lived. I’m just not used to reading about it in that way any longer.
So, 5 stars for some great writing and memories, but rounding down because of the overall reading experience.
AND NOW IT’S ASTERISK TIME!
Well, almost. Before I get to them, let me note for the record that Sam had worked for the now-long-defunct
Birmingham Post-Herald before writing this book, and not the Birmingham News. But the two were housed in the same building, and everybody knew each other.
The Orlando Sentinel in 1987.**
Let me also be quite clear on this point: I was a paid summer intern on the features desk and Sam was an actual, honest-to-gosh, bigshot (to me) reporter at the time. But that is where we first met. I eventually did a short stint at the News on the business desk in the early 2000s. He worked for the parent company at a sister paper, the Mobile Press-Register and then as a correspondent in Washington, D.C. We never crossed newsroom paths as journalists other than that one summer. But I kept up with him for a long time both as a friend and as corporate communications practitioner who needed to stay in touch with reporters on certain beats. Am using the reading of this book as an excuse to get back in touch.
"Went ahead and ordered it this morning."***
This is significant because I do not, for the most part, buy books. (Long story about a little book-related credit card debt in the ‘90s…..) But because I’d wanted to read this for so long and it was back on my radar screen yet not available at any library to which I have access, I made the rare exception.
No greater honor known to man than to have one’s byline above the fold on A1 come a Sunday morning.****
The Associated Press, once the undisputed arbiter of all things printed, also once said “man” was to be considered non-gender specific in such usages. This of course has since changed. Today it would make more sense to just say “no greater honor than to have one’s byline.” But it feels weird to write it that way, even now. So this time I didn’t. CULTURAL FOSSIL THAT I AM.
This particular asterisk set also includes reference to the belief "that what we did _mattered_." Please don't misunderstand me; the work true journalists do today still matters. It matters very, very much. Which is why it is so distressing to see it devalued in so many ways.
IN SUMMARY
It is also fitting and bittersweet that I finished this book today, February 28, 2023, on what would’ve been my late father’s 82nd birthday. He is the one who got me into journalism, taking me to school board meetings when I was in middle school and then asking me to compare what I read in the paper about the meetings with what I had experienced firsthand. He and Mother both read the local paper and the Birmingham News cover to cover, setting great examples for all of their children.
I remember being so, so excited when my above the fold A1 was a NASCAR-related business story, because Daddy was such a big racing fan. Felt like I had outkicked my coverage with that one, so to speak.
Ah, the memories. I’d keep writing, were it not for the tears slicking up my keyboard.
Roll Tide, y’all. Roll Tide.
September 3, 2017
I tracked this book down upon the recommendation of a book reviewer I admire. Otherwise, I would never have heard of it. After 85 pages, I've given up - something I've done less than half a dozen times. Compared by some to Confederacy of Dunces, it isn't even in the same league - by a long shot. It is very southern. But I didn't find it funny, engaging or particularly well-written.
December 3, 2018
Somewhat entertaining "coming-of-age" story set in Alabama during the transition of the South--with its remnants of Old South, to the "New South.
The story also takes place in a time when newspapers, with multiple editions, were still relevant.
Civil War--excuse me--War Between the States--reenactments are mixed like a salad with city rivalries (at least an imagined one), small business development, newspaper arcana, budding romance, parental conflict, moral resolve, and Alabama football--roll Tide.
Recommended, especially a vacation or travel read.
The story also takes place in a time when newspapers, with multiple editions, were still relevant.
Civil War--excuse me--War Between the States--reenactments are mixed like a salad with city rivalries (at least an imagined one), small business development, newspaper arcana, budding romance, parental conflict, moral resolve, and Alabama football--roll Tide.
Recommended, especially a vacation or travel read.
October 22, 2017
Amusing, easy read, but a very, very sharp turn from the last book I read that was set in the Deep South. (Jesmyn Ward’s exquisite _Men We Reaped_.) It took a while for me to get into the story of an upper-class civil war-infatuated re-enactor, newly minted as a post-high school, pre-college newspaper reporter. Not particularly a deep or important book, more a mildly funny snack story.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews