Book Club #1 Returns: Flannery O’Connor and the Southern Gothic WTF-Fest

Well, we're back on Book Club #1 posts. After my last post, which may or may not have (definitely did) caused some light personal controversy. I’m here to talk about The Life You Save Might Be Your Own by Flannery O’Connor.

What a fucking hoot this one was.

We start with not one, but two disabled characters (still okay to say that, right?). One dude is mysteriously missing an arm (when I say mysterious, I mean literally no explanation given). The other is a deaf-mute woman who’s described as “innocent,” which we’re clearly meant to read as both virginal and childlike (we’ll come back to that disaster shortly).

Enter hillbilly mom, stage left, who meets this drifter and practically begs him to marry (read: bang) her daughter. And her big sales pitch? The girl is “innocent” (again, ew), underage (she’s not, but mom really leans into it), and, here's the bonus, she won’t talk back. Because, you know, she can’t.

Mom of the year, folks.

But the fun doesn’t stop there. Our one-armed Romeo takes the bait, marries the girl, abandons her asleep in some greasy diner, and steals the car that was mom’s wedding gift. Just dips. Gone. Leaves the deaf-mute bride behind like she’s luggage.

And just when you think we’ve hit peak Southern Gothic insanity, you flip the page and realize, nope, not quite yet! One final WTF: the guy picks up a young hitchhiker, who promptly hurls himself out of the moving vehicle after ranting some Jesus-laced nonsense.

Flannery. Dude. What were you on.

What a hoot.