Thank you for these wonderful poems. “Good Country People” is my favourite Flannery story. I see myself in Hulga. I heard O’Connor wanted to convince people evil is real, as a prerequisite for grace. Often those in her stories who think they know what’s what—teachers, psychologists, sentimental church ladies—are the blind ones. It may take an act of “violent grace” to wake us up to our own state, but I like this poem because it shows Flannery not standing aloof judging people but rather praying we might come to our senses without violence. Her stories can be dark but that isn’t the point of them; grace is.
It’s refreshing to read the writings of someone who wrote of evil without apology. She truly understood the blindness and stumblings of human depravity and violence and blood as its inevitable end.
Thank you for these wonderful poems. “Good Country People” is my favourite Flannery story. I see myself in Hulga. I heard O’Connor wanted to convince people evil is real, as a prerequisite for grace. Often those in her stories who think they know what’s what—teachers, psychologists, sentimental church ladies—are the blind ones. It may take an act of “violent grace” to wake us up to our own state, but I like this poem because it shows Flannery not standing aloof judging people but rather praying we might come to our senses without violence. Her stories can be dark but that isn’t the point of them; grace is.
It’s refreshing to read the writings of someone who wrote of evil without apology. She truly understood the blindness and stumblings of human depravity and violence and blood as its inevitable end.
Wow. What a fascinating concept. This one was very thought-provoking.