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In the Land of Good Living: A Journey to the Heart of Florida
A wickedly smart, funny, and irresistibly off-kilter account of an improbable thousand-mile journey on foot into the heart of modern Florida, the state that Russell calls "America Concentrate."In the summer of 2016, Kent Russell--broke, at loose ends, hungry for adventure--set off to walk across Florida. Mythic, superficial, soaked in contradictions, maligned by cultural elites, segregated from the South, and literally vanishing into the sea, Florida (or, as he calls "America Concentrate") seemed to Russell to embody America's divided soul. The journey, with two friends intent on filming the ensuing mayhem, quickly reduces the trio to filthy drifters pushing a shopping cart of camera equipment. They get waylaid by a concerned citizen bearing a rifle; buy cocaine from an ex-wrestler; visit a spiritual medium. The narrative overflows with historical detail about how modern Florida came into being after World War II, and how it came to be a petri dish for life in a suddenly, increasingly diverse new land of minority-majority cities and of unrivaled ethnic and religious variety. Russell has taken it all in with his incomparably focused lens and delivered a book that is both an inspired travelogue and a profound rumination on the nation's soul--and his own. It is a book that is wildly vivid, encyclopedic, erudite, and ferociously irreverent--a deeply ambivalent love letter to his sprawling, brazenly varied home state.
323 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 7, 2020
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655 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 74 reviews
July 27, 2020
Imagine a Florida travelogue in which three scruffy bros decide, with little preparation, to hike across Florida and film a documentary about their travels. Imagine they drink a lot and do drugs and get into and out of trouble. Imagine a Hunter Thompson-esque writer, but with a mullet, bumbling across U.S. 41 through the Everglades on an electric mobility scooter, flying high on shrooms while dodging all the roadkill. Imagine how bad the three of them smell by the time they make it to Miami Beach.
Then you will get some idea of the garden of earthly delights awaiting you in "In the Land of Good Living," Kent Russell's ode/expose to his home state.
Russell, who grew up in Miami and attended UF, likes words and sometimes goes overboard in explaining things, but otherwise he's a good tour guide to the knavery and chicanery and outright fakery that makes up much of the Punchline State.
Along the way, Russell records their encounters with a wide variety of Florida men and Florida women. They go shrimping with a weed-smoking Trump supporter, assess the artificial purity of Seaside, attend a hurricane party at a motel full of refugees from a storm that never landed, encounter dead-head loggers, sea turtle killers and freelance pot-growers in the failed subdivision of Golden Gate Estates and at one point see or hallucinate a Florida panther with glowing eyes. One of the highlights involves them interviewing a guy whom they THINK plays Jesus at the "Holy Land Experience," a declining Bible-themed amusement park where Christ was crucified six days a week for the tourists. What happens next is both hilarious and horrifying, which pretty well sums up a lot of Florida stories.
Russell swings between straight-ahead narrative and segments that are written like a screenplay for the documentary that never quiiiiiite gels into an actual film. ln between he's prone to dropping epigrams such as, "Of all Florida's invasive species, the most successful has been optimism."
He also sprinkles the story with bits of Florida history, usually unattributed and sometimes a little off. For instance, he repeats the myth that the founder of Miami, Julia Tuttle, persuaded millionaire railroad and hotel builder Henry Flagler to extend his line to her little settlement by sending him orange blossoms in the middle of a freeze that wiped out all the other citrus groves to the north. The truth is she wired him that the citrus trees had survived in her neck of the woods, and he sent his minions to check it out -- and meanwhile she offered him some of her land for free, if he'd build a hotel and municipal utilities, which was the real attraction.
In the end, the trio complete their unlikely trek, somehow avoiding becoming human roadkill despite Florida being the most dangerous state for pedestrians. When you read Russell's book, you'll be glad they did -- but you'll also be glad they decided AGAINST trying to go on down into the Keys. That would have been a Seven Mile Bridge too far.
Then you will get some idea of the garden of earthly delights awaiting you in "In the Land of Good Living," Kent Russell's ode/expose to his home state.
Russell, who grew up in Miami and attended UF, likes words and sometimes goes overboard in explaining things, but otherwise he's a good tour guide to the knavery and chicanery and outright fakery that makes up much of the Punchline State.
Along the way, Russell records their encounters with a wide variety of Florida men and Florida women. They go shrimping with a weed-smoking Trump supporter, assess the artificial purity of Seaside, attend a hurricane party at a motel full of refugees from a storm that never landed, encounter dead-head loggers, sea turtle killers and freelance pot-growers in the failed subdivision of Golden Gate Estates and at one point see or hallucinate a Florida panther with glowing eyes. One of the highlights involves them interviewing a guy whom they THINK plays Jesus at the "Holy Land Experience," a declining Bible-themed amusement park where Christ was crucified six days a week for the tourists. What happens next is both hilarious and horrifying, which pretty well sums up a lot of Florida stories.
Russell swings between straight-ahead narrative and segments that are written like a screenplay for the documentary that never quiiiiiite gels into an actual film. ln between he's prone to dropping epigrams such as, "Of all Florida's invasive species, the most successful has been optimism."
He also sprinkles the story with bits of Florida history, usually unattributed and sometimes a little off. For instance, he repeats the myth that the founder of Miami, Julia Tuttle, persuaded millionaire railroad and hotel builder Henry Flagler to extend his line to her little settlement by sending him orange blossoms in the middle of a freeze that wiped out all the other citrus groves to the north. The truth is she wired him that the citrus trees had survived in her neck of the woods, and he sent his minions to check it out -- and meanwhile she offered him some of her land for free, if he'd build a hotel and municipal utilities, which was the real attraction.
In the end, the trio complete their unlikely trek, somehow avoiding becoming human roadkill despite Florida being the most dangerous state for pedestrians. When you read Russell's book, you'll be glad they did -- but you'll also be glad they decided AGAINST trying to go on down into the Keys. That would have been a Seven Mile Bridge too far.
September 8, 2020
Even though I did not like the author and his comrades, I enjoyed the glimpses of Florida presented in this book.
July 20, 2020
What seems, on the face of it, like a basic buddy comedy/road trip narrative with added intellectual heft is actually so, so much more once you get into this.
It inverts and plays with the well-trodden and centuries-old walking journey/pilgrimage narrative -- typically full of spiritual revelation, personal epiphany, natural connection, yada yada yada -- to ask what an excruciating journey by foot in America's hot-baked, car-dominated, exurban hellscape can teach us about the national soul. Imagine Cheryl Strayed's Wild, except funny, and soulful, and angry, and set in and around Walmart parking lots, state highways, and themed bedroom communities built for the lost, for the dying, or for those who simply can't afford to be found.
If you want to learn how Florida became a punchline, that's here. But if you want to go several levels deeper to understand the state's history, and how it reflects the hucksterism, unbridled individualism, and, yes, the creative spirit that defines us, that's all here, too. In the era of Trump, and now Covid-19, it certainly resonates and will continue to do so.
Entertaining, insightful, formally inventive, and spun out with a preternatural gift for language.
It inverts and plays with the well-trodden and centuries-old walking journey/pilgrimage narrative -- typically full of spiritual revelation, personal epiphany, natural connection, yada yada yada -- to ask what an excruciating journey by foot in America's hot-baked, car-dominated, exurban hellscape can teach us about the national soul. Imagine Cheryl Strayed's Wild, except funny, and soulful, and angry, and set in and around Walmart parking lots, state highways, and themed bedroom communities built for the lost, for the dying, or for those who simply can't afford to be found.
If you want to learn how Florida became a punchline, that's here. But if you want to go several levels deeper to understand the state's history, and how it reflects the hucksterism, unbridled individualism, and, yes, the creative spirit that defines us, that's all here, too. In the era of Trump, and now Covid-19, it certainly resonates and will continue to do so.
Entertaining, insightful, formally inventive, and spun out with a preternatural gift for language.
September 30, 2020
Just finished this one and I’m struggling to remember a crappier book. I read and then re-read pages trying to figure out if this was written as satire or if the author’s statements were genuine. For instance: “Death is a grinding down of obdurate surfaces, a pulverization of even silica’s will.” Did he write this, sit back and feel he’d voiced some great profundity? Or is this meant to sound like a young high school writer going a little far into the sap, feeling proud to have placed big words into a sentence.
Also, the timeline of the events of this book coincide with the last presidential election. I find it interesting that this is published exactly 4 years later to coincide with the 2020 election. The author’s commentary on Floridians was incredibly shallow (again I’m struggling to figure out why). In short he tells us every North Floridian is really dumb and every South Floridian is a cheat or drug lord. The author’s tone is one of jealousy, cloaked in the “I’m a broken down, drug addled New York academic so I know better.”
For the last half of the book I kept wondering where this author is today. In the end I’m convinced he’s out there snorting his cocaine and throwing frozen water bottles at the police to prove some point to us dummies.
Also, the timeline of the events of this book coincide with the last presidential election. I find it interesting that this is published exactly 4 years later to coincide with the 2020 election. The author’s commentary on Floridians was incredibly shallow (again I’m struggling to figure out why). In short he tells us every North Floridian is really dumb and every South Floridian is a cheat or drug lord. The author’s tone is one of jealousy, cloaked in the “I’m a broken down, drug addled New York academic so I know better.”
For the last half of the book I kept wondering where this author is today. In the end I’m convinced he’s out there snorting his cocaine and throwing frozen water bottles at the police to prove some point to us dummies.
August 15, 2020
Amazing premise, well-written historical context, amusing anecdotes...partly ruined by this author’s obsession with his college philosophy class and his thesaurus.
“Betwixt” rather than “between,” really? (The one example I can recall of probably 300 such substitutions.)
“Betwixt” rather than “between,” really? (The one example I can recall of probably 300 such substitutions.)
January 7, 2021
Loved this book. It was funny and confirmed every single bias I've ever had against Florida – a state I have never visited. Russell is self-deprecating and a fine wordsmith. I listened to the book on Audible and when I had missed a minute or two because of noise from other sources, I'd back up the recording to make sure I hadn't missed any witticisms or sardonic/clever observations. Too many favourite scenes to list them.
January 5, 2021
As a native born Floridian, I found the book to be very relatable. I love my state, but am keenly aware of its many faults. Still, there is beauty here among all of the Florida Man foibles! I can see the humor and the hubris the book describes.
October 13, 2022
I absolutely loved this. If this was at times a little navel-gazey, it was far outweighed by the brutally funny objectivity of Russell’s observations. I have never in print read a more honest assessment of American optimism. I found a lot of joy in the banter between our intrepid travellers. I felt a parasocial sameness with them as I read through that made it easy to understand their convictions and empathize with with their humor. The rare book that I finished and immediately wanted to re-read. I would love to read more from this author.
December 29, 2020
I read a review of this in The Atlantic and had to read because I grew up in Coral Springs. Mythic Florida, built on 100% mirage and sinking land. The bro humor and antics were hilarious. I really enjoyed the history of how Florida has always been identity-less and how it's the fraud capital of the world. Funny memoir, but also a very interesting examination of "America Concentrate" as the author calls it.
Also this book includes the BEST LINE EVER: "Everything here feels f*ck-adjacent."
Also this book includes the BEST LINE EVER: "Everything here feels f*ck-adjacent."
August 26, 2020
Horrible. I will read almost any book about Florida, but this one just bogged down in extreme navel gazing. I stuck with it till he got to Gainesville and was free-associating in front of a journalism class while drinking, at which point it became unreadable.
January 16, 2021
Florida! Kent Russell refers to it as "America Concentrate(TM)," which is all too accurate. This travelogue covers his walk across the state, from Panhandle to Miami, with two equally ill prepared friends. Along the way, they encounter all types of people and consider the state's history. How the Spaniards weren't all that interested in actually settling the swamp. How the US eventually bought it merely to get the Spanish off the continent. And most importantly, how its rugged, boggy landscape attracted those with "frontier values - fierce individualism, gun violence, a weak state government, and rapacious attitudes toward the environment" -- all of which rings just as true today as it has throughout history.
His history lessons are great, from how air conditioning made year-round living possible to how Walt Disney secretly amassed the land he needed for his park (which is carefully unincorporated to avoid the jurisdiction of just about every government entity except elevator inspectors - Disney could build its own nuclear reactor if it so chose), leaving Orlando to build on "Uncle Walt's sloppy seconds."
But most interesting is Russell's exploration of the types of values that have created Florida as we know it. While the libertarian streak has always pulsed through the state, the influx of retirees (and particularly Boomers) has intensified it, especially since all those transplants have little reason to care about the local infrastructure when they spend half the year up north. And in a state built on a mirage, "the pure creation of others' demand," the service sector makes up a disproportionate share of the economy. That's barely sustainable in good times, but add in climate change (which the state officially refuses to acknowledge, preventing any long-term planning) and a tourism-destroying pandemic... and well, Florida may foreshadow what's next for all of us.
While Russell's writing can be overwrought at times (put AWAY the thesaurus, please), and his frat boy antics grew tiresome at times, I'll be chewing on the themes of this book for a while to come. Though not from poolside in Florida.
His history lessons are great, from how air conditioning made year-round living possible to how Walt Disney secretly amassed the land he needed for his park (which is carefully unincorporated to avoid the jurisdiction of just about every government entity except elevator inspectors - Disney could build its own nuclear reactor if it so chose), leaving Orlando to build on "Uncle Walt's sloppy seconds."
But most interesting is Russell's exploration of the types of values that have created Florida as we know it. While the libertarian streak has always pulsed through the state, the influx of retirees (and particularly Boomers) has intensified it, especially since all those transplants have little reason to care about the local infrastructure when they spend half the year up north. And in a state built on a mirage, "the pure creation of others' demand," the service sector makes up a disproportionate share of the economy. That's barely sustainable in good times, but add in climate change (which the state officially refuses to acknowledge, preventing any long-term planning) and a tourism-destroying pandemic... and well, Florida may foreshadow what's next for all of us.
While Russell's writing can be overwrought at times (put AWAY the thesaurus, please), and his frat boy antics grew tiresome at times, I'll be chewing on the themes of this book for a while to come. Though not from poolside in Florida.
August 3, 2020
I felt this book did not live to it’s potential.
Good writing , history part was interesting and there should have been more of it.
The transitions from the guys’ experiences, history and story were hard to follow.
Mostly I enjoyed the historic portions.
Good writing , history part was interesting and there should have been more of it.
The transitions from the guys’ experiences, history and story were hard to follow.
Mostly I enjoyed the historic portions.
July 23, 2020
Read my review here
December 30, 2020
This book was okay, not too great. The idea of backpacking around Florida is nuts. I accidentally went on a six mile hike when I lived there and think I sweated about 10 lbs off of my weight. The Florida stories are great. The waxing philosophical between lines of coke make the author seem like more of a douche than anything. The random reminder that he is an Ivy League professor during this trip was also a douchey name drop. We get it you have a great job where you can travel, somehow do a ton of drugs and not get fired. Back to the Florida stories please.
April 22, 2021
Very rarely do I come across books that are just a chore to finish. This book received glowing reviews but I just don't see it. Being a lover of the state of Florida, I was hoping for a romp that took me into the heart of Florida and the people and places that make the state unusual but oh so lovable. What I got were 3 grown men that walked the state (the route itself was weird) and wrote a few things about some people in between drinking, doing coke, and eating mushrooms for a high. The main author was very philosophical in his renderings as well as overly political. I could accept this if that's what the book was supposed to portray. Toward the end, I just wound up skimming in order to finish it. There were a few places where the author actually had some interesting information to share so I did give it a couple of stars. There are other books that extoll the virtues and oddities of Florida that are much more interesting and less didactic. Overall, it was a frustrating and eye-rolling read.
July 21, 2020
Ouch!
My feet hurt for these three guys, reading their neo-gonzo travelogue. Great storytelling with doses of history knitted in. The three participants take one for team USA, going where no American should have to go so we don’t have to. Cheers!
My feet hurt for these three guys, reading their neo-gonzo travelogue. Great storytelling with doses of history knitted in. The three participants take one for team USA, going where no American should have to go so we don’t have to. Cheers!
August 30, 2023
An excellent, insightful, novel and very well written exploration of Florida today, but it didn’t answer the mystery at the heart of the narrative: what happened with the documentary? I guess we’ll never know.
August 16, 2020
I live in Florida so this was fun to read. Sort of uneven tho. Funny, interesting but also repetitive. It was a road trip that didn't quite arrive anywhere, but maybe they never do?
November 6, 2020
DNF at 30% - I found I didn't care about the characters or what happened to them and could not see myself listening for another 6 hours.
March 8, 2021
The history of Florida is interesting. The dialogue between the author and his friends is insufferable.
February 14, 2021
This book is part 3.5 stars; part 2 stars. Three white dudes, including one Canadian, decide to walk the entire length of Florida through the fall of 2016 and create a documentary. Russell writes about the experience. The book is part critique of Florida's development and history, part "band dudes" on the road adventures/trying to create a documentary, and part 'walking narrative' reflections.
The sections that discuss Florida development and history are excellent-- incisive, sharp, drawing attention to the strangeness of Florida, an unwanted swampland and money sink, transformed to military base, tourist destination, and retirement waypoint before death, only for much of the state to be slowly sinking into the ocean. A representation of our capitalist arrogance of taming nature. Impossibility made possible. A Ponzi scheme, deferring the consequences of rising sea waters and falling property values to future buyers.
I also enjoyed Russell's description of the physical infrastructure of Florida as they walked through the state-- the varied trash, roadkill, strip malls, condo developments, power stations, parks, driver behavior, and road signs. It illustrated the mundane and desolate texture of the miscellaneous suburban development that covers so much of the US and a glimpse of Florida beyond marketing brochures of picturesque beaches and palm trees. The final chapters, entering the Everglades, passing through Miami and Miami Beach and heading to Russell's childhood home (a wooden home open to sea breeze razed to the ground to be the "spillover space" for their neighbor's soirees hosted from their garish architectural McMansion) are particularly strong, summarizing what these three guys have experienced walking through Florida, that epitomizes so much of the American narrative (Russell has a striking paragraph that draws a parallel between the Florida's physical configuration and America's history).
Russell's reflections on their journey and its impact on him personally-- the act of walking, the encounters with nature, are well-written though excessively self-aware, and thus constantly interrupted by barreling tractor trailers, or the cursing of his travel mates.... though I don't think Russell has a good alternative than to be conscious of his white male liberal privileged pontification.
I was less enthused about the miscellaneous "band dudes" adventures sections of the book-- arguments and stress on the road, hangovers, miscellaneous drugs, encounters with all sorts of strange people-- mediums, alligator hunters, strippers. These sections are well-written, some creatively in the form of a documentary script, but they comprised the majority of the book, and I'm not that big on miscellaneous "on-the-road" drug-laden adventures.
Recommended for good overview and reflections of Florida's history and current state, but maybe you want to skim the sections about white dudes misadventures in the state, if you're not into that kind of stuff. As mentioned earlier, the final chapters are excellent.
The sections that discuss Florida development and history are excellent-- incisive, sharp, drawing attention to the strangeness of Florida, an unwanted swampland and money sink, transformed to military base, tourist destination, and retirement waypoint before death, only for much of the state to be slowly sinking into the ocean. A representation of our capitalist arrogance of taming nature. Impossibility made possible. A Ponzi scheme, deferring the consequences of rising sea waters and falling property values to future buyers.
I also enjoyed Russell's description of the physical infrastructure of Florida as they walked through the state-- the varied trash, roadkill, strip malls, condo developments, power stations, parks, driver behavior, and road signs. It illustrated the mundane and desolate texture of the miscellaneous suburban development that covers so much of the US and a glimpse of Florida beyond marketing brochures of picturesque beaches and palm trees. The final chapters, entering the Everglades, passing through Miami and Miami Beach and heading to Russell's childhood home (a wooden home open to sea breeze razed to the ground to be the "spillover space" for their neighbor's soirees hosted from their garish architectural McMansion) are particularly strong, summarizing what these three guys have experienced walking through Florida, that epitomizes so much of the American narrative (Russell has a striking paragraph that draws a parallel between the Florida's physical configuration and America's history).
Russell's reflections on their journey and its impact on him personally-- the act of walking, the encounters with nature, are well-written though excessively self-aware, and thus constantly interrupted by barreling tractor trailers, or the cursing of his travel mates.... though I don't think Russell has a good alternative than to be conscious of his white male liberal privileged pontification.
I was less enthused about the miscellaneous "band dudes" adventures sections of the book-- arguments and stress on the road, hangovers, miscellaneous drugs, encounters with all sorts of strange people-- mediums, alligator hunters, strippers. These sections are well-written, some creatively in the form of a documentary script, but they comprised the majority of the book, and I'm not that big on miscellaneous "on-the-road" drug-laden adventures.
Recommended for good overview and reflections of Florida's history and current state, but maybe you want to skim the sections about white dudes misadventures in the state, if you're not into that kind of stuff. As mentioned earlier, the final chapters are excellent.
November 29, 2020
Full disclosure: I’m a Florida native who migrated North after high school.
Although I enjoyed Mr. Russell’s “Hunter Thompson-esque walking tour” I found it highly judgmental and thoroughly negative. Admittedly, there are parts of the state that have certain types of residents who have their obvious shortcomings. (I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to calling a variety of truck-driving-Confederate-flag-waving individuals “riff raft” from time to time when visiting my hometown.) There were those of whom he didn’t bother to include in his self indulgent adventures who were hard working,
decent, and would become some of the wonderful lifesavers in the near Covid impacted future. (See recent 60 Minutes interview with Hillsborough County social worker and the high schooler she located with thousand other unaccounted public school students affected by the the Covid pandemic)
Mr. Russell is a talented writer with a unique voice and fresh perspective. I would compare him to Capote, but he doesn’t seem to have the same
underlying beauty and literary finesse in his writing. While the author self-medicates from psychological and physical pain on his pedestrian Odyssey (seriously he didn’t think he would need a good pair of walking shoes?) he protects himself behind an impressive vocabulary and an often humorous metaphoric wizardry that keeps us, his readers, from ever really knowing him.
This book gave me a sense of someone longing for purpose in life and seeking the meaning to go on. This is why Coconut Grove is the final destination in the last chapter and a Florida Drivers License is still in his possession. In the end or closer to it, we all have a tendency to look back at our childhoods. For those of us who are Floridian natives, I for one can vividly recall hours played in the sand and sun; unsupervised bicycle freedom I was permitted; and an unawareness of time until sunset reminded me to return home for dinner.
We were all at some point during that glorious young period in our lives undeniably clueless of how those formative years were the most carefree and irresponsible. Mr. Russell wants to go home and find this again. This is why I can’t help but think why he distracts us with a diatribe of historical state trivia instead of coming clean with his own personal history. Deep down the self torture he endures with his two friends, who are either naive enablers or misery seekers-not sure which, ultimately concludes to a “last hurrah” before the sun goes down and a Floridian boy’s playtime is officially over. And where the reality of this tethered author’s life as an Ivy league professor fortunately awaits him.
Although I enjoyed Mr. Russell’s “Hunter Thompson-esque walking tour” I found it highly judgmental and thoroughly negative. Admittedly, there are parts of the state that have certain types of residents who have their obvious shortcomings. (I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to calling a variety of truck-driving-Confederate-flag-waving individuals “riff raft” from time to time when visiting my hometown.) There were those of whom he didn’t bother to include in his self indulgent adventures who were hard working,
decent, and would become some of the wonderful lifesavers in the near Covid impacted future. (See recent 60 Minutes interview with Hillsborough County social worker and the high schooler she located with thousand other unaccounted public school students affected by the the Covid pandemic)
Mr. Russell is a talented writer with a unique voice and fresh perspective. I would compare him to Capote, but he doesn’t seem to have the same
underlying beauty and literary finesse in his writing. While the author self-medicates from psychological and physical pain on his pedestrian Odyssey (seriously he didn’t think he would need a good pair of walking shoes?) he protects himself behind an impressive vocabulary and an often humorous metaphoric wizardry that keeps us, his readers, from ever really knowing him.
This book gave me a sense of someone longing for purpose in life and seeking the meaning to go on. This is why Coconut Grove is the final destination in the last chapter and a Florida Drivers License is still in his possession. In the end or closer to it, we all have a tendency to look back at our childhoods. For those of us who are Floridian natives, I for one can vividly recall hours played in the sand and sun; unsupervised bicycle freedom I was permitted; and an unawareness of time until sunset reminded me to return home for dinner.
We were all at some point during that glorious young period in our lives undeniably clueless of how those formative years were the most carefree and irresponsible. Mr. Russell wants to go home and find this again. This is why I can’t help but think why he distracts us with a diatribe of historical state trivia instead of coming clean with his own personal history. Deep down the self torture he endures with his two friends, who are either naive enablers or misery seekers-not sure which, ultimately concludes to a “last hurrah” before the sun goes down and a Floridian boy’s playtime is officially over. And where the reality of this tethered author’s life as an Ivy league professor fortunately awaits him.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 30, 2020
For our annual summer adult Bingo reading challenge, a reader can choose a book to add to the library's collection if he/she completes the "challenge" bingo strip... I had read a review some months ago of Kent Russell's In the Land of Good Living: A Journey to the Heart of Florida and decided to ask for that one. It was quite a rollicking read, and I think I chose well. It is also hard to summarize. Kent and two friends, Glenn and Noah (who is the photographer) decide to make a modern-day trek on foot across over 1,000 miles of Florida, documenting and experiencing. Kent and Noah are originally from Florida, and Glenn is the innocent Canadian. They begin in the Panhandle, cross over East and then south through the center to the Gulf (Tampa area), then south through the Everglades and back to the East and Miami where their pilgrimage ends. They encounter all kinds of people and happenings, are occasionally confronted with guns and wild creatures (but Kent, who is the writer of the book and of their impressions notes that women who tried this kind of walking journey would most likely be harassed, raped or killed along the way), and we the reader learn via Kent's enormous reading and research much of the history of the state. Toward the end, he wraps it up as he speaks into the camera: "In the Land of Good Living, let's call it...It will capture the state that swung the presidential election. It will capture the swamp of self-creation that, for better or worse, leads the nation the way a jutting thermometer leads the infirm...There will be unintentional humor. Oh, yes. Laugh at us all you want. There will also be wistfulness, fabulism, history. There needs to be history. But it will not be history for history's sake. It will be history that makes clear Florida isn't just Weird America--it is Impending America. The further south we walk, the further along the United States' narrative arc we travel. We move from the stagnant Panhandle, where the worst fears of antebellum whites still obtain. We pass through Central Florida, where there is sprawling modern "civilization", of a kind. We wind up in majority-minority, wildly unequal, hilariously corrupt, vapid, gorgeous, climate-change-doomed South Florida, where the shallowness serves to reflect the future like a scrying glass." This would be a great book group discussion, in this of all times.
February 18, 2024
3.75
A somewhat true story about three friends walking over a thousand miles across the state of Florida.
Kent Russell, a pretentious, down-on-his-luck writer takes his two friends- an overly good-natured Canadian film maker and a veteran looking for one last adventure- to his home state in hope of striking gold by creating a documentary and book about their trek.
The book is laid out in a creative way. Streches of narrative are interrupted by what seems to be a movie script. This helps pacing of the book, as well as establish the tone of a buddy comedy-- like the Hangover a la Florida. The book is very fun and Kent does a good job in finding the humor in their strange journey.
Kent also masterfully weaves true facts about Florida into his walking narrative. I'm also a native Flordian and had no idea about how quickly the population of the state ballooned, the infamous owner of a Tampa Strip club or even about the creation of Miami Beach.
The thing that made this book slightly challenging to read is Kent's overly sarcastic and pessimistic tone. I know he describes himself as an asshole in the book and reading it you definitely get the sense that he would be very condescending in most conversations. The only place Kent seems to have reverence for is Miami, his hometown. As a fellow Flordian that also moved out of the state, I had hoped Kent would be able to describe the weird juxtaposition all Flordian live in; being equally proud of our state and simultaneously horrified by it. I feel like Kent is mostly horrified. I wished he would have off-set his negative perception of the Florida with some positive thoughts from his friendly, Canadian friend (if he had any).
I also found the word choice a little difficult to deal with. This book is filled with words that would win you a high score in scrabble. I often had to put down my book and pick up my phone to look up what a word meant. I'm all for expanding my vocabulary, but sometimes it felt like the flowery words made the metaphor or description Kent was trying to give a little muddied.
At the end, I struggled to see the transformation in the three friends. Both Kent and the Canadian stated that the walk made them realize that they were the best people, but besides one fight between them, you don't really see their moral greyness.
Overall, an interesting read that taught me a lot. I have a list of family members already asking to borrow my copy now that I am finished.
A somewhat true story about three friends walking over a thousand miles across the state of Florida.
Kent Russell, a pretentious, down-on-his-luck writer takes his two friends- an overly good-natured Canadian film maker and a veteran looking for one last adventure- to his home state in hope of striking gold by creating a documentary and book about their trek.
The book is laid out in a creative way. Streches of narrative are interrupted by what seems to be a movie script. This helps pacing of the book, as well as establish the tone of a buddy comedy-- like the Hangover a la Florida. The book is very fun and Kent does a good job in finding the humor in their strange journey.
Kent also masterfully weaves true facts about Florida into his walking narrative. I'm also a native Flordian and had no idea about how quickly the population of the state ballooned, the infamous owner of a Tampa Strip club or even about the creation of Miami Beach.
The thing that made this book slightly challenging to read is Kent's overly sarcastic and pessimistic tone. I know he describes himself as an asshole in the book and reading it you definitely get the sense that he would be very condescending in most conversations. The only place Kent seems to have reverence for is Miami, his hometown. As a fellow Flordian that also moved out of the state, I had hoped Kent would be able to describe the weird juxtaposition all Flordian live in; being equally proud of our state and simultaneously horrified by it. I feel like Kent is mostly horrified. I wished he would have off-set his negative perception of the Florida with some positive thoughts from his friendly, Canadian friend (if he had any).
I also found the word choice a little difficult to deal with. This book is filled with words that would win you a high score in scrabble. I often had to put down my book and pick up my phone to look up what a word meant. I'm all for expanding my vocabulary, but sometimes it felt like the flowery words made the metaphor or description Kent was trying to give a little muddied.
At the end, I struggled to see the transformation in the three friends. Both Kent and the Canadian stated that the walk made them realize that they were the best people, but besides one fight between them, you don't really see their moral greyness.
Overall, an interesting read that taught me a lot. I have a list of family members already asking to borrow my copy now that I am finished.
August 28, 2024
After just taking a month + to read “Moby Dick,” I didn’t realize that I was getting into a new non-fiction adventure by a writer who must have been greatly influenced by Melville. Here we go again: story, history lesson, character development, social commentary, screenplay? And repeat. For a thousand miles across the state of Florida. Three buds - Kent (writer), Noah (veteran), and Glenn (aspiring Canadian filmmaker) come up with the idea of walking across the state of Florida to make a documentary about the land and the people of the state. While lugging camera gear along the highways on various carts they find and thriving off protein bars, they interview anyone and everyone who seemingly represents “The Florida Man.” Along the way they find hurricane parties, coke parties, new age mass, get wasted at Epcot Center, have close camping encounters with gators, get lapdances, and of course bicker and fight and make up with each other. There was an odd contrast to the tone. First it’s, “look at us, we’re dirty drifters with mullets.” But throughout their voyage they continuously verbally spar each other with intellectual banter and philosophical debate. They come across as annoyingly condescending to everyone they encounter, and judging of the lifestyle of the swing state. Yes, the 2016 election takes place throughout their hike and there’s a great moment of their shock and disbelief (and hopelessness) when they read of Trump’s victory. Come on, know your surroundings. I guess it humbles them because by the time they get past Miami and down to their final point they each have their little epiphany-like moments and all seem to agree that there isn’t much of a documentary after all.
There was a great blend of Florida history and debauchery here.
There was a great blend of Florida history and debauchery here.
March 16, 2025
I was very excited to read In The Land of Good Living by Kent Russell. It’s marketed as the true account of a couple guys who decided to walk from the panhandle to Miami and what they find along the way.
It started out great, I especially loved their encounters in the panhandle, they came across a schizophrenic woman who gave the guys her riffle “because she has plenty and they were going to need one on their journey”. In Carrabelle they meet a man who explains that Floridians from south Florida and New Yorkers are basically the same. They did not come to Levy County but they walked through Alachua and Gainesville. The author’s description of cows was humorous. As they journey further into south Florida it becomes more about the authors drugged out experiences on mushrooms (yes they get high numerous times during their trek south) and political thoughts and that was not what I wanted to read about I kept hoping that they would have more funny encounters so I finished the book. Had I known it was going to be a dissertations on their opinion of Florida politics I would have skipped it. Although there was one more thing I found fun, they had encounters with crocodiles, alligators, water moccasins and a panther. Those encounters were mildly entertaining. I guess if you want to read the opinion on Florida politics (city/county/state/federal) of someone who doesn’t live in Florida you might like this but if not I think you can skip it.
2.5 stars because no one cares what you think about our politics Kent Russell. The author was born in Miami and moved for college and has lived in Southern California and now Brooklyn New York 😊
It started out great, I especially loved their encounters in the panhandle, they came across a schizophrenic woman who gave the guys her riffle “because she has plenty and they were going to need one on their journey”. In Carrabelle they meet a man who explains that Floridians from south Florida and New Yorkers are basically the same. They did not come to Levy County but they walked through Alachua and Gainesville. The author’s description of cows was humorous. As they journey further into south Florida it becomes more about the authors drugged out experiences on mushrooms (yes they get high numerous times during their trek south) and political thoughts and that was not what I wanted to read about I kept hoping that they would have more funny encounters so I finished the book. Had I known it was going to be a dissertations on their opinion of Florida politics I would have skipped it. Although there was one more thing I found fun, they had encounters with crocodiles, alligators, water moccasins and a panther. Those encounters were mildly entertaining. I guess if you want to read the opinion on Florida politics (city/county/state/federal) of someone who doesn’t live in Florida you might like this but if not I think you can skip it.
2.5 stars because no one cares what you think about our politics Kent Russell. The author was born in Miami and moved for college and has lived in Southern California and now Brooklyn New York 😊
August 28, 2022
I was so looking forward to reading this book for so long and was quite disappointed. I didn't give it one star because there was a tiny bit of informational/historical content that I appreciated. Other than that is was nothing what I expected. I expected the recounting of a journey by foot all around Florida that shared adventure, history, culture, and whimsy. One major aspect effecting my disillusion of this read, was that I did not expect to need a dictionary as I read. The author's reflections and interpretations of the trip were so intellectualized (which did thankfully improve as the book went on) I often thought I was reading an educational journal. There were also many pivotal areas/cities that were randomly overlooked - like Daytona Beach, West Palm Beach, and Key West. The three hikers went to random tourist traps and communities, so why not the iconic mermaids of Weeki Wachi Springs, rafting down Ichetuknee Springs, or Spook Hill in Lake Wales? Conversely, I did appreciate learning about the psychic community in Titusville - I had no idea that existed. Russell seemed to use this book as a sounding board for his personal views, opinions, and rhetoric but failed in really creating a complete picture of all the intricate pieces and places that make up this very unique State. Maybe it was my fault for expecting a story about the many facets of Florida when it fact it was much more about how this journey on foot was a coming of age for these three, thirty something men.
July 16, 2020
The results are in. Kent Russell really truly is a giant asshole. We know this because in the last few pages of the book, Kent Russell comes to the realization that throughout the entire book, he has been a total giant asshole. What is his excuse? He is a child of the State of Florida.
This book is an ostensibly true story, told by a completely unreliable narrator, about three friends who start at the Alabama border and walk the length of Florida to Coconut Grove, a town just south of Miami.
On their trip they meet a cross-section of Floridians, which the narrator takes explicit pains to point out both is and is not equivalent to a cross-section of Americans. Florida, they point out, is a distillation of all that is America, so therefore the people must be a distillation of what it is to be American. Except maybe not, because Florida is so damn unique.
Throughout this Odyssey, Kent Russell is the friend no one really likes, but they tolerate him because they think their other friends like him. Wild Kent does things like hock his friends camera to buy cocaine.
Eventually the three friends reach the location of Kent's childhood home, which has been torn down and is now a vacant lot. Holy metaphor alert, Batman.what does that say about Florida? And what does that say about America? We don't really know, because Kent is such an unreliable narrator, we don't even know if this trip really took place.
This book is an ostensibly true story, told by a completely unreliable narrator, about three friends who start at the Alabama border and walk the length of Florida to Coconut Grove, a town just south of Miami.
On their trip they meet a cross-section of Floridians, which the narrator takes explicit pains to point out both is and is not equivalent to a cross-section of Americans. Florida, they point out, is a distillation of all that is America, so therefore the people must be a distillation of what it is to be American. Except maybe not, because Florida is so damn unique.
Throughout this Odyssey, Kent Russell is the friend no one really likes, but they tolerate him because they think their other friends like him. Wild Kent does things like hock his friends camera to buy cocaine.
Eventually the three friends reach the location of Kent's childhood home, which has been torn down and is now a vacant lot. Holy metaphor alert, Batman.what does that say about Florida? And what does that say about America? We don't really know, because Kent is such an unreliable narrator, we don't even know if this trip really took place.
September 6, 2020
On a discovery mission, three guys at the upper edge of youth go walking through Florida, one pushing a grocery cart containing various cameras and backpacks. They start at the panhandle of the state, proceed to Gainesville, Ocala, St. Augustine and Tampa/St.Petersburg, then to the Everglades and Miami Beach. They're buddies who have an eye for the outrageous and stand ready for a party when it's time to celebrate. This book that results from the walking (and sometimes hitchhiking) tour, reveals that Florida is both mythic and real. Meanwhile, its shore lands are falling into the sea. The prose is a bit on the edge of modern. With a dictionary at my side, some words I couldn't locate or define, but I'm 50 years older than I suspect they are. They skipped the Suwannee River Valley, which is my part of Florida–I'm a native too–but I forgive them that, because my section of Florida is much akin to the folk culture in the panhandle, and not that far off from the Gainesville crowd. The narrative is original and will prod you to think of Florida, its residents and future residents and the shifting sands they live on.
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