By Janis Owens
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JOLIE HOYT is an efficient SOUTHERN lady residing in Hendrix, a small Florida Panhandle city. The daughter of a Pentecostal preacher who sells assurance at the part, and the easiest buddy of a full of life good looks who strikes to the large urban to pursue a profession in inside layout, Jolie is all too conscious of her family’s closet packed with secrets and techniques and long-held mistrust of outsiders. however, she throws warning to the wind while she meets Sam Lense, a Jewish anthropology scholar from Miami, who's on the town to review the ethnic make-up of the region.
Jolie and Sam fall recklessly in love and dream of starting a existence jointly, far-off from Jolie’s buried prior. yet their affair ends by surprise while Sam is came across to have pried too deeply into Hendrix’s darkish racial heritage and he turns into the newest sufferer in a protracted culture of small-town violence.
Twelve years later, while a black businessman from Memphis returns to Hendrix to do correct via his father’s reminiscence, Jolie and Sam are introduced jointly back. they're pressured to revisit the unresolved problems with their younger love and eventually make clear the gruesome historical past of Jolie’s hometown.
A complicated and compulsively readable Southern saga, carrying on with within the culture verified by means of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings and taken into the hot millennium by means of writers like Karen Russell and Kathryn Stockett, American Ghost used to be encouraged by means of Janis Owens’s vast study on a true lynching that happened in 1934 in Marianna, Florida.
American Ghost is a richly woven exploration of the way the occasions of our prior hang-out our current
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Extra info for American Ghost
In the two summers I spent with him, the only movie people—the only people, for that matter—who ever appeared at the house were King Vidor, Frank Reicher, an old German character actor, and Dr Cecil Reynolds, his stage-struck doctor. On his recent visit to England, Chaplin had been warmly entertained by the Astors, who owned the paper I was writing for. He had also struck up a congenial relationship with another Alister, the son of Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald. It was as simple as that. At any rate the ‘interview’ dissolved into lively conversation, and from there we went to lunch and then up to his house, where I was introduced to ‘my friend Miss Goddard’.
Well primed by this cautionary tale, Chaplin boarded the train for the journey east and relaxed into the five days of anonymity that would precede the social whirl he had been warned to expect from the actors and actresses and social-theatrical hangers-on in New York. On the evening of the second day, he was standing in his underwear shaving in the washroom as the train pulled into Amarillo, Texas. He was aware of a vague baying sound as the train slid into the station. He peered out and saw a dense crowd on the platform and a line of trestle tables piled with refreshments.
He pulled his hair down into a ropy forelock, slipped one hand into his breast pocket and slumped into a wistful emperor. He started to talk to himself, tossing in names strange to me—Bertrand, Montholon—and then took umbrage, flung an accusing finger at me and, having transformed his dreamy eyes into icicles, delivered a tirade against the British treatment of him on ‘the little island’. His face was now a hewn rock of defiance. I have it still on film, and it is still a chilling thing to see.