Ouch

In a nutshell, this story made me a little bit sick. But in a good way. Sort of.

It's always interesting to read and write about a place, and the culture accompanying that place. You realize that some stereotypes are abhorrent, malicious bastardizations of these, yet most exist for a very real reason.

Having been born and raised in Alabama, I've experienced countless secondhand instances of culture shock from peers and visitors from other parts of the country and the world that are shocked both by how stereotypical the South is and by how different it is from their preconceived notions.

This story was, for me, a sickening look at why so many of these stereotypes do exist.

We have the burning, which in many ways was like a county fair, with children, and frat boys bring dates, and the main attraction--a bigot attacking things for biased reasons. We have the hate-language, the terrified black driver, the black maid. And all of this made me sad--I could identify everything physical about this story, and as such was forced to accept, once again, that I am a part of a culture with a background that is, in certain aspects, despicable.

Yet amidst this stereotypical backdrop, we have a story about curiosity, change, and infidelity. I didn't find Marla's desire to attend the rally strange. I've met many non-natives that have wanted to partake in all things southern, for better and for worse. I was much more intrigued by the relationship between her and Pinion.

Vice makes a phenomenal move with the final scene, which I found to be the most compelling of the story. Marla finally submits to the adultery that she had planned, with increasing conviction, to commit. The act is set against the backdrop of the "running of the loons." There is a certain shock and pity associated both with the initial and then the mass of Bryce patients that sets them apart. Yet what is insanity, if not plotting and knowing all of the downfalls and the lack of upside and doing it anything, the world be damned? Marla is the same as these people whether she knows it or not.

Though the topic of religion is never broached directly, the patients serve as a reverse baptism. The elements are there--a river, a cross, a change. When the car is stopped and then washed over by this group of mental patients, she finally connects the last dot, not only knowing what she is doing, but finally feeling it for the terrible action it was.

In sum, I feel like Vice combined a number of intricate elements, set it against a backdrop that is familiar, at least to me, and combined the two to make a phenomenal story that was both a stereotype and the exact opposite.