South of Broad
Booksellers looking at this year鈥檚 bottom lines through parted fingers finally have a reason to smile. August brings one name (besides Oprah, Harlequin, and Dan Brown) able to pry $30 from recession-weary Americans: Pat Conroy.
The author of 鈥�The Prince of Tides,鈥� which sold more than 5 million copies, is one of a very few writers able to bridge commercial and literary circles, and South of Broad is his first novel in 14 years. It鈥檚 a sprawling story that stretches across 20 years and both ends of the United States.
Conroy is from the more-is-more school of writing 鈥� if one analogy is good, three are better. And his lush, florid style has served him well with his fans. Minimalists can go mope at a Soho installation. Conroy is here for the story颅telling, and won鈥檛 let readers go away bored. Sometimes, he tries a little too hard. As if one abused child weren鈥檛 enough; here we have a minivan鈥檚 worth. And the parallels with 鈥淭he Prince of Tides鈥� extend beyond both main characters鈥� love for South Carolina.
鈥淪outh of Broad鈥� is the story of teenage Charleston pariah Leopold Bloom King. After his beloved big brother committed suicide at age 13, Leo spent years in mental institutions, only to be arrested for drug possession as a ninth grader. (An older student put cocaine in Leo鈥檚 pocket.) Leo鈥檚 dad is a gentle science teacher; his mother is a James Joyce scholar, a high school principal, and, as Leo discovers as the novel opens, an ex-nun. (The Roman Catholic church is unlikely to put 鈥淪outh of Broad鈥� on its summer reading list.)
Dr. King takes a dim view of her surviving offspring, who lacks the golden charm of her dead son. (Leo鈥檚 nickname among peers is the Toad.) When we meet him, Leo鈥檚 coming off parole, giving him a clean slate, as his father tells him. 鈥淣ot with me, young man,鈥� his mother snaps. (Conroy pulls back from making Leo鈥檚 mom a total monster 鈥� she鈥檚 fair-minded regarding race and class issues and an icily ferocious defender .)
But in the summer of 1969, a strange thing happens: Leo starts making friends his own age. Twins move in across the street, bringing with them an alcoholic mother and a father who could terrify your average serial killer. Leo鈥檚 mom asks him to look out for two teenage orphans, and to help support her high school鈥檚 new black football coach, whose white team roster is shrinking daily. It turns out Coach Jefferson has a son. Finally, there are Molly Huger and Chadworth Rutledge X, two high-society teens who got kicked out of their rarefied world and have to slum it at public school. This unlikely crew develops into a circle, with kindhearted Leo at its center, that deepens 20 years later, when they travel to San Francisco to rescue one of their own.
Conroy has poured in many of the themes from his earlier novels: abused and raped children, emotionally distant mothers, violent fathers, team sports as a path to manhood, and a deep love of South Carolina鈥檚 tidal country.
鈥淪outh of Broad鈥� isn鈥檛 free of clich茅s. In fact, its very first sentence 鈥� 鈥淣othing happens by accident鈥� 鈥� is one. Some of the dialogue can be painfully stilted, and characters have a tendency to be awed by how historic and momentous everything is. The plot also suffers from Conroy鈥檚 excessive generosity. One character doesn鈥檛 just become an actress; she鈥檚 an Oscar-winner who鈥檚 written as a combination of Raquel Welch and Meryl Streep. Leo鈥檚 generosity isn鈥檛 saintly; it鈥檚 almost a pathology.
However, a lonely kid who will do anything for his friends is certainly believable, and Conroy does point out the self-destructiveness that can accompany extreme selflessness.
And for every speech that clunks, there are three interchanges that will make you grin. Most important, Conroy hasn鈥檛 lost his ability to make readers care deeply about his damaged children or his beloved South Carolina. When Conroy loves something 鈥� a great teacher, a graceful old city 鈥� he鈥檚 not afraid to let you know it. And Leo is such an appealing character that it鈥檚 a pleasure to watch the Toad become a prince.
Yvonne Zipp regularly reviews fiction for the Monitor. She blogs at .
