Curious thing about the genre of fiction known as Southern Gothic: not much of it takes place in definitely the most southern and arguably the most gothic of Dixie. Of course, there is no argument that geographically, Florida is the deepest one can go in Dixie, but geography is merely one aspect of the South. And not necessarily the most important. The fact is that Florida very quickly gained a reputation as being “different” from the rest of those states that make up the former Confederacy. Sure, Florida may be much more southern than South Carolina, but it is absolutely not in any way, shape, or form more “Southern” than South Carolina. Or Tennessee. Or Georgia. And most definitely not Alabama or Mississippi. Someone once observed that Florida is really the only southern state that northerners trust. And, of course, the reason is obvious: a great bulk of the population of the Sunshine State is comprised of people who moved there from up north.
Lauren Groff was born and raised in the home of the Baseball Hall of Fame, Cooperstown, NY. Her first novel, The Monster of Templeton is informed by that regional aspect; it is not about baseball, but a figure who made it famous long before the Babe came along: James Fenimore Cooper. (Cooperstown. How many have never made that connection before?) The novel was critically well received and set up anticipation for her first short story collection, Delicate Edible Birds. Two more novels and followed and then came Florida, her second collection of short stories. These stories tell a timeless tale: that of the northerner who comes to Florida as an outsider filled with certain expectations only to eventually be drawn into the lesser known—and perhaps less family-friendly—gothic side of the state. Hurricanes instead of sunny days, panthers instead of manatees, and lots more snakes than dwarves and princesses in pretty costumes.
In fact, Disney is out-referenced in this view of the Sunshine State by roughly a 50 to 1 ratio. And even that isn’t anywhere near to the actual figures by which Florida’s immense snake population makes the entire theme park syndicate look like a couple of guys sitting around whittling. By the time one completes the stories in Groff’s collection, they will have a much broader, realistic, and terrifying view of what actually awaits them on their next trip to the peninsula.
