Last week, I wrote about my current state of not reviewing a lot of books. The funny thing is, that post devolved from what was going to be my first book review in a while. My brain basically said, “to make a long story short” and then proceeded to tangentially discuss something instead of telling the story. Then I thought about how I’ll be gone for all of “next Tuesday,” which is “today” in post scheduling time, and I decided to write the review anyway.
Now I feel pressure for this one, since I’ve written so much about it before even titling the review. And it doesn’t matter much at all, because it’s not a new book by any means. (The title of the book looked long and clunky in the post title.) So, with much ado…
What I thought of The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix
Books about book clubs, and book clubs in general, get interesting quickly. Questions abound: Are we reading serious fiction? Current best-sellers? Books that changed someone’s life? Who gets to decide? Is it a democracy or an autocracy or really just an opportunity to toss a book in your bag and drink wine, eat snacks, and hang out with friends?
All of those answers are correct, of course, and the three book clubs in The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires encompass a variety of them throughout the story. The core book club encompasses five unlikely friends and a penchant for true crime stories, though they barely call themselves a book club and one of the member’s husbands thinks they’re doing a Bible study each month.
Spanning almost a decade, the book follows what happens when a southern housewife discovers a terrible secret about her new neighbor, an attractive bachelor on whom she performs CPR while delivering a casserole after his great-aunt severs her earlobe. I know that’s a description you likely haven’t read before, and it’s indicative of the entire story.
I adored this book.
The five friends each manage their homes and their families in slightly different ways, and their relationships with their husbands and children are all slightly different — until they’re not.
Like the title states, this book is about vampires, but it’s also about misogyny and perception and community and the way white women sometimes espouse unity until it means making hard decisions about their own actions. Relationships between friends and between spouses are tested in unexpected ways, and the (I think I can say) universal maternal fear of failing our children pervades each decision made by Patricia Campbell, the central character of the novel.
Broken into sections based on what Patricia’s book club(s) are reading, the novel dives into the mind of a southern housewife who makes both bold moves and tentative, disastrous mistakes in an effort to save her family and her own identity. I’m not southern, but I’m drawn to books about the south, particularly stories of women navigating their lives and balancing their identities and strength with a system determined to keep them under some sort of control.
To circle back, though, this book is about vampires — and not of the romantic variety. A few of the scenes feel like nightmares, and they’re not for the faint of heart. Consider that a warning, though it’s possible to skim through those sections without losing the thread of the plot.
For certain readers, I highly recommend this book. It might end up as one of my favorites of the year, though I don’t think my mom should attempt it nor anyone prone to extreme squeamishness when faced with expertly descriptive prose.
