Reviews

The Store, by Thomas S. Stribling

margaret_j_c's review against another edition

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A complicated book.
Set in the days after the Civil War, when slavery had been abolished in name but remained a reality. Stribling doesn't pull any punches. He doesn't pretend that history was other than it was. There were several times when I literally put the book down because of how revolting it was.
This doesn't mean it wasn't a phenomenal book. Stribling makes it clear what his opinions are. His black characters have agency; they are nuanced and true. They are as significant to the plot as anyone else - something rare today but so much rarer in the 1930s when it was originally published. Through subtle, cutting wit Stribling offers a deadly criticism of the South post-emancipation.

Also? My American Lit professor wrote the intro so that's neat.

leighnonymous's review

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4.0

As the cover suggests, this truly is a stirring novel. I expected a dull, tedious story about The Old South and a lot of mean-spirited whippings. Instead, I found myself engrossed in this tale that, although would never be published today, fascinated me with its characters and plot.

Colonel Miltiades Vaiden puzzled me. Should I hate him because he thought black people (referred to by a different name in this) were inferior and that he still felt a sense of ownership of them? Or should I love him because he was the only one in the book who would help them in any way and always be honest with them, giving them the full pound they paid for instead of cheating them?

His wife, Ponny, was amazingly referred to as "fat" in every single mention. She spoke "flabbily" and her girth was basically the character. I cringed at the scene where she moaned for Milt to fix her a baked potato because she was hungry. The drama.

I admired Gracie in so many ways - honest, kind, understanding, and non-judgmental. Stribling frequently referred to her as "the quadroon" and to her son, Toussaint, as "the octaroon" or "the white [n-word]." Like I wrote, this would never be published today.

Lucy reminded me of Sofia from The Color Purple, full of spunk and ready to make a stand.

Milt's pride certainly got in the way of his plans, though. His sense of entitlement, I thought, would be his downfall.

The ending came suddenly and swiftly and left my heart fallen. Literally, it was the last five pages of the book; do not expect a resolution beyond sorrow and anger.

I recommend this book because it gives what I consider to be probably an accurate portrayal of life in Alabama in the time immediately after the Civil War, when ownership mentality was still there but freedom was in the books. It must have been difficult for people to adjust their perspectives -- one month you own another human being, the next they own themselves.

Strange book but worth the read and worth the Pulitzer for '33 because of its honest portrayal of American life during Reconstruction.

wathohuc's review

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4.0

As for superior writing, I wouldn't rank this 1933 Pulitzer winner for fiction among the best. But it was an enjoyable read and its themes were complex and prodding enough to merit some accolades. Even still, I gave the book a four-star ranking for two reasons, the first having to do with the merits of the book itself and the second for its sociological value: (1) though it was not the work of a literary genius, it has very few, if any, discernible flaws. It's solid, though basic. (2) I found it extremely fascinating to read a book about post-abolition race relations in the deep south but written during a period in which Jim Crow was still very much the operating norm in the same deep south. The novel still has a very uncomfortable coziness with racist tropes and language that would be offensive to almost anyone in today's reality; but even within what we would consider to be a racist apologetic (i.e. the main character of the novel for whom a very empathetic portrayal is given, Col. Miltiades Vaiden, is also an unapologetic and bald-faced racist who even was Klan leader), there is a critique of race relations that one might even point to as being pro-abolitionist. In other words, in the Jim Crow reality of race relations in 1933 in the segregated south, this book might have been well-within the segregationist mainstream, but also one that might have also been considered sensitive to the complexities and injustices of race relations in the immediate post-emancipation south and a critique of a certain kind of continuation of slavery-like racial oppression that managed to linger after the emancipation proclamation.

Another fascinating thing about this book for me was the picture it presented of how incestuous the south was among the white population, partly because of a practice of casual sexual exploitation (rape) of black or mixed-race women by white men which often times produced offspring whose parentage was often publicly obscured for all kinds of reasons.

The more I think about this book, the more I realize that the real villains were often unscrupulous, ignorant, and violent white men; and that incivility often manifested itself among the white population in their relations with one another within the white community, albeit wrapped in the absurd veneer of a kind of imperious and irreproachable southern chivalry and gentility.

In short, there's a lot in this book for a current student of race relations to ponder and evaluate from a variety of angles. How did someone from the Jim Crow segregationist south view the late 19th Century social reality of race relations? What was considered a progressive view of race relations and civil rights in the 1930s? What constituted a novel that could be considered a radical critique of racism and oppression at the time? Etc., etc.

If you want to see what mainstream US literary culture embraced as an example of superior writing about the complex subject of racism in an era of Jim Crow segregationism in the US (and particularly in the US south), this book is a worthwhile read. It certainly makes a reader of today think about these topics in a way that I am sure readers in 1933 couldn't even fathom considering.

jeffs's review against another edition

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1.0

I've never read a book that makes me hate reading so much. This long miserable (Pulitzer Prize winning?!) book is perfect for you if you like casual racism and intricate plots about nothing.

alexisveloz's review against another edition

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5.0

In my pursuit of reading the Pulitzers, I purchased this gorgeous copy of T.S. Stribling's 1933 winner, The Store. I'm sure I spent quite a bit of money on it - it's leather-bound, gilt-edged, and has a ribbon bookmark - I'll be adding it to my permanent collection.


This book, the second in Stribling's trilogy, follows the further adventures of the Vaiden family, focusing specifically on Miltiades Vaiden. It is now post-Reconstruction in Florence, Alabama. Milt hasn't made much of himself since his days as a Civil War hero and local leader of the Ku Klux Klan. Milt is still rankled by what he perceived as a local store owner's "theft" of cotton from the family, and he sets out to get the family's rightful property (or the money owed them therefrom) back from the store owner, J. Handback.


Where Stribling really excels in this book, as he did in his last, is in the close examination of race relations in the post-Reconstruction South. With the recent events in Ferguson, Missouri, it was clear to me that we haven't come that far since the late 1800's - certainly not as far as we should have. White landowners in the South are struggling with how to deal with former slaves who now have rights. Milt Vaiden embodies the lost soul of the white Southerner who has been thrust into an existence that he is neither prepared nor happy for. Once a Civil War hero, a successful overseer, and leader of the KKK, in the New South, Milt Vaiden doesn't know what to do with himself. The book explores the lives of former slaves as they, too, seek to learn how to make do in a land where they no longer have the protection of their former owners, but do not quite have a fully independent existence, due to how they are seen and treated by most whites in the South. The book also explores the lives of those biracial products of rape and/or consensual relations between (usually) white male slave owners and their former slaves, particularly through the person of Toussaint Vaiden. How is a man who is neither white nor black to make his way in the world after the Civil War? Where does he belong, and how does he fit into the self-segregated society that is blossoming after Reconstruction?


As in the last novel, there are many uses of derogatory names for former slaves. The casual way the n-word is used is by far the most disturbing part of the novel, although I'm sure it was par for the course in that time and place (and may still be in some places). There were no rapes in this novel, but ***SPOILER ALERT*** there is a lynching at the very end. Not recommended for those who would be overly offended by these issues.


I give this book five out of five Whatevers. I see why it won the Pulitzer. There is so much about it to admire - the way Stribling strips down race relations after the War and really tries to present both sides of the issue; the slight tinge of spiritualism that invades the book; the examination of love, and the many ways in which one can love another person. I couldn't put it down over the Thanksgiving break, and I'm very glad I read it. I would not say that I liked Milt Vaiden, as a character...he was somewhat of a scalawag. But there were other characters I loved (including Gracie, former slave of the Vaiden family, and Lucy, the educated black woman who tries to teach the neighborhood's black children and eventually marries Toussaint). Highly recommended for an interesting look at the Old South as it became the New South, and for a look at race relations that might just be needed in today's society, as well.

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