The final line reads (and this is no spoiler): "though I had come so far-- miles more than I ever had in Africa or China-- I had never left home." This is a deep exploration of a part of the United States that most people probably think they know (I thought I did), but is largely veiled from view. How many television shows are set in Alabama or Mississippi? How many movies (besides obvious historical fiction) depict Arkansas or South Carolina? I never really thought about it, but I haven't seen many. Paul Theroux explores the region thoroughly, taking back roads and driving into small towns, many poverty-stricken and many still prosperous, almost all divided along racial lines. He speculates that this depression, this separation-- not just between black and white but between the south and the rest of the country-- harkens back to the civil war, a loss that is still felt today and might never leave. In many ways, southerners are defeated people. He also muses (and asks people outright) about the lack of political and philanthropic support to the region, which in many ways is as desperate for aid as any place in Africa or Asia (and which is far closer by), but which receives none. Organizations like the Clinton Foundation (and Clinton is from Arkansas) put no funding there. I'd never really thought about it and it was very interesting. I'm not sure if this book has inspired me to undertake my own physical exploration of the south, but I will certainly take some of Theroux's reading recommendations. And I'll read more about his travels as well.

Paul Theroux believes three things about the South, and he wants you to believe them too:
(1) it's very religious
(2) People are very poor. Aid spent in Africa would be better spent here
(3) the past is still alive (i.e., racism)
He underlines these with anecdotes of conversations that are just a little too short - portraits of many people don't add up to a coherent whole. I enjoyed "Evicted" more, which focused on just 8 poor families struggling with housing.

This, along with Burroughs' Naked Lunch, are the only one star books I actually recommend people read. In spite of Theroux's spectacular pomposity, bizarre thought process, and its seeming total lack editing, there's a lot of useful knowledge in Deep South.

So it sucks, and my partner had to hear me sigh and grumble for a few hundred pages, but it's worthwhile suck.

*3.5

Hoo boy, is the word count here unlimited?

This is an incredibly problematic book on a number counts and it's hard not to question what sort of editorial support he had when he delivered his draft. Who read this with the publishing house and thought "OK, this will work!"?

First and foremost, this is a very drab, dull and unrevealing book. I'm unsure of the author's plan, if he thought he'd hit the road in the deep south, find some characters and just write down what they said, and that didn't happen. It seems he sought out community outreach organizations to talk about poverty. He always asks to meet the people these organizations are helping, but only once or twice does he do this (I'm unsure if he just didn't write about it or the meetings never happened). It is interesting that man who owns houses in Hawaii and Cape Cod was trying to talk to people who couldn't find a house in Alabama or Louisiana.

Two, there's race. He wanted to write a book about race. Or he wanted to write a book about the "n" word. Maybe both. In between two chapters, he has a mini-chapters where he writes about the "n" word. Theroux is white, for the record. This diatribe ends with the always fruitful "why do black hip hop artists get to use the 'n' word?" and then he decries Harvard University, a college he didn't go to, introducing a course of study in hip hop.

As an editorial choice (surely), he rarely, if ever, identifies his interviewees by their race, which typically isn't a big deal if this book weren't about race. Only do we learn the person's race when they reveal that they grew up in segregated neighborhoods or schools. In a later chapter, he inexplicably asks some farm workers (who we assume are black) if they've been called the "n" word. In an early chapter, he writes about driving to an interview and being late. He enters the office, admittedly grinning and admittedly not sorry for being late. The interviewee is upset with him for not necessarily being late or not being sorry about it, but for the "white privilege" of thinking neither mattered. This book was put together in 2012-14 or so, so it's likely this is the first time the idea of "white privilege" is entered Theroux's brain pan. He is taken aback and cannot understand the conflict. Boy, that lady gave him a tongue lashing. In another scene, a woman is complaining of systemic inequality and racism. Theroux responds, "What about the Constitution?"

It's not that he's backwards or a bigot. The thesis behind this trek for Theroux is to come to terms with the woe and want of the South that has existed his entire life while he worked in the Peace Corps in impoverished Africa and Asia. The idea being perhaps people in his own country needed assistance just as much as any starving people overseas.

In a chapter set largely in Arkansas, he goes around asking people why the foundation founded by Bill Clinton does send funds to his home state, instead diverting it to Africa. He literally asks everyone "Would you accept funds from the Clinton Foundation?" He does it so much he literally mentions not mentioning it again.

It's a book of troublesome conclusions and questions. Racism didn't end in 1972 and it's not stopped by the Constitution. And you get the real idea that the author believes this idea. That he didn't need to help the South because it was all solved by the Civil Rights Act or Brown vs. The Board of Education.

Other troublesome spots: At one point he details the anti-semitism in many southern rights groups and how they use the bible to support their ideas. Then in the same breath he ties that into seeing female Mennonites with hair coverings, and how that custom is supported in the New Testament. But he doesn't appear to know what Mennonites are or if they're even real.

Upon hearing a man of 71 being referred to as "elderly," Theroux scoffs at the idea of being old. The problem: The reference was of a man of 71 and his granddaughter being hit and killed by a motorist.

In another mini-chapter, he writes effusively about southern writers. All white. And clearly admitting he didn't mention any black writers, he includes a paragraph on the end about black writers. Just rewrite it all. He also fails to really talk about southern food, music, customs, the Civil War, Reconstruction, the Great Migration and basically any major historical event in the South.

Finally, my final gripe, he begins using phonetics in quoting people to accentuate the accents. For the next 400 pages he probably does just one or two times. I think that's something you got to do throughout or not at all. Furthermore, a vast majority of quotes he gets from interviewees appear to be polished up. Most sound like a public relations writer got a hold of them. I assume he cleaned them up to support his conversational approach. It is very disingenuous. Anyway, don't read this book. It's garbage.

I want to thank Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, Netgalley, and Paul Theroux for allowing me to read this book in exchange for my honest review. I was simply thrilled to be able to delve into these pages. My heart is always in the South and read a travelogue of journeys did my heart good. I have heard that Theroux is a terrific author; but prior to this book I have never picked up one of his books. Shame on me- this was superbly written as if I was in the passenger seat of Theroux's car.

Deep South is a dense book. Full of information, stories, anecdotes, humor, and social observations. Theroux drives through the South and interacts with friends he met previously, new friends he meets along the way, and his thoughts as the miles pass away beneath the tires of his car. This isn't a book that extols the virtue of porch rockers, sweet tea, fried chicken and grits. Rather this is a book that discusses the current state of a rich, and not in a monetary sense, area of our country. The poverty of this region is devastating to read; but the graciousness of the human spirit is inspiring. Theroux observes, asks questions, and respects the history of the region. I highly recommend this book and will be eagerly seeking out his other books.

Interesting, an eye-opener if you are not from the south or spent time there. On the other hand, if you look for what your notions are of a place, you will find them. The hidden and not hidden discrimination are shown.

Paul talks about how it’s great to be not recognized, but laments being shut out for “being an old white man, a cracker” or such words. His own perceptions, true or not.

The book is well worth a read. There is some repetition in it, but that’s perhaps due to pieces being published as articles in publications?