January 15th: Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil
In my high school AP English class, we read Ode to an Orange by Larry Woiwode. If you ever have to define 'vignette,' the best place to start would be by reading the way Woiwode writes about an orange. Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil is a crateful of Woiwode's oranges.
If you don't know what a vignette is, let me tell you what it isn't: it isn't a baby salad dressing, it isn't a tiny bottle of vinegar, and it isn't always about oranges. It's a snapshot of sorts; for Woiwode, it's of the experience of an orange, and for Berendt, it's the people he meets when in Savannah.
John Berendt's purpose of writing Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil is to ultimately tell the story of the murder of one, Danny Hansford, by another, Jim Williams, and the ensuing trial. I feel like that's the excuse that Berendt told his published to get them to pay for his trips down South because the murder is quickly eclipsed by the back story. To understand why Jim could shoot Danny, you'd have to understand Jim. To understand Jim means understanding his business--an antiques dealer--, his house--originally built by an ancestor of Savannah-native Johnny Mercer--, his lifestyle, his friends, his lawyer. To understand why Jim would shoot Danny, you'd have to understand Danny: his past, his girlfriend, his criminal record. To understand the long, drawn out trial--Jim Williams was tried four times for the murder of Danny Hansford--, the subsequent macabre fascination with it, the success of the book, you'd have to understand Savannah.
Berendt devotes vignettes in the form of chapters to the characters he meets in Savannah. "The well-bred society ladies of the Married Woman's Card Club; the hapless recluse who owns a bottle of poison so powerful it could kill every man, woman, and child in Savannah; the aging and profane Southern belle who is 'the soul of pampered self-absorption'; the uproariously funny black drag queen; the sweet-talk, piano-playing con artist": the way Berendt writes about them, you would think that they were all co-conspirators. But really, they are important to the story because without them, you wouldn't be able to understand the greatest character, the greatest co-conspirator of them all: the city itself.
Here's what makes it great: it's non-fiction. It reads the most delicious of novels; Berendt couldn't have created these characters any better with his own imagination. It reminds me of those memoirs by comedians that are so popular right now: it's all in the delivery.
I always forget that this book was published almost a decade ago and the events in it took place almost two decades back. THAT'S HOW GOOD IT IS. It's timeless.