A charming collection of a novella and eight short stories by Edward M. George. A celebration of the natural world by Margaret Renkl. A bold collection of poems by Matthew Minicucci. My review of these and other books, along with a treasure trove of other reviews, may be found at the Alabama Writers’ Forum website: writersforum.org.
Happy Reading and Happy Giving.
photo (2016) by Carmen K. Sisson
Twenty years ago, my Christmas card was not intended to be the start of an annual tradition. I saw a white country church on a hill in Bibb County one December and commented that it would be a nice Christmas card image. A year later, I stopped to photograph that church and, a year later, I had Christmas cards made featuring one of those images.
The authenticity of the image pleased me and the response was positive and I decided to do it again if I found the proper image. Now it has become not just a personal tradition but a ritual, the planning for which commences each December. As soon as my cards are at the post office on December 1, I begin – like a Mardi Gras krewe planning a float down on the coast – to think about next year’s Christmas card.
It usually has to feature an old Alabama church – preferably white and wood-framed. These are the preferences of my recipients, actually. I have on occasion featured something other than a house of worship – a boathouse on Mobile Bay, a sprawling live oak – and I have heard what amount to complaints for not sending out another church. As printing costs and postage rates have increased, so has my Christmas card list. Friends around the country and across the world promptly notify of changes of address so that “we don’t miss out on this year’s Christmas card.”
For me, it has become a welcome distraction. I do not go overboard for Christmas – a wreath on the door, a bow on the mailbox – but I do find escape and peace in the personal meditation of signing and addressing a Christmas card. I have written about that kinship in the past. This year, unexpected passings have altered the names on my address list – they always do – but there always seem to be new names to add and the list grows rather than shrinks.
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My Christmas card this year features a church that has been on my wish list of images for years. Malbis Memorial Church (its official name is much more ornate) is a Greek Orthodox structure in Baldwin County, Alabama, near Daphne. It was built in 1965 as a memorial to Jason Malbis, a Greek immigrant who founded the self-sufficient Malbis Plantation in 1906. Over time, the plantation became a thriving community of Greek immigrants with influence in Baldwin County and in the city of Mobile across the bay.
Jason Malbis died on a trip to Greece in 1942 and the Malbis community built the memorial church that he had dreamed of. Greek and Italian artists and artisans did the highly detailed mosaics and iconography that give the church its wonder and majesty. Red marble columns and pilasters in the church’s interior create a splendor that belies the relatively small size of the building.
Nowadays, the church and plantation, which once existed in relative isolation, are on a busy highway surrounded by the sprawl of twenty-first century suburbia. Once at the church, however, it is not difficult to block out the noise of the traffic and forget the increasingly encroaching sprawl and find a place of peace and quiet meditation.
Happy Holidays and Peace in the New Year, everyone.
I think there is a certain kind of pride in being from Alabama that people from outside the state – and many inside – don’t completely understand. Despite the ongoing embarrassment of the state by its politicians – which, of course, has to be blamed on the state’s electorate – those of us who aspire to be better plod on and remain hopeful that the political fervor and fever around us may somehow break. The more progressive thinkers among us feel almost like an underground movement since we don’t get much attention – but we’re here.
Birmingham, by far the most progressive Alabama city, tried to raise its minimum wage and elected to become a “sanctuary city” years ago; both moves were thwarted by a Republican governor and state legislature propped up by an Alabama constitution that dates back to 1901, geared at the time toward advancing Jim Crow and limiting “home rule” for Alabama’s city and towns. When Birmingham hosted the 2022 World Games and mayor Randall Woodfin wore a tee-shirt declaring “I am from the Great State of Birmingham,” I knew exactly what he meant.
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I found a proud Alabama tribe recently when I attended an event at Birmingham’s Grand Bohemian Hotel that reminded me that we who hope (and work) for a better Alabama are not alone. Alabama Humanities Alliance (AHA) presented the Alabama Colloquium honoring its Alabama Humanities Fellows of 2023.
The 2023 honorees are David Mathews and Imani Perry. David Mathews was the president of the University of Alabama when I was an undergraduate in the 1970s. At the time, he was the youngest president of a major university in the country. Mathews, from Grove Hill, Alabama, was Secretary of the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare in the Gerald Ford administration. He left Alabama to become the longtime director and CEO of the Kettering Foundation with a mission to strengthen democracy through community involvement. Alabama’s Center for Civic Life at American Village was renamed the David Mathews Center for Civic Life in his honor. His books include Politics for People, Together: Building Better, Stronger Communities, and With.
Scholar and writer Imani Perry is a Birmingham native and a professor of everything, it seems (law, literature, history, cultural studies), at Harvard University. Her most recent book, South to America, was a 2022 National Book Award winner that everyone should read. She is the recent recipient of a 2023 MacArthur Fellowship – the much-vaunted “genius grant.” Her books include Looking for Lorraine: The Radiant and Radical Life of Lorraine Hansberry and May We Forever Stand: A History of the Black National Anthem.
CNN’s Kaitlan Collins, another Alabamian, was originally scheduled to moderate the conversation between Perry and Mathews and had to bow out after being sent to cover the war in Israel. She sent a video greeting and a “Roll Tide” from Tel Aviv, however, and was ably replaced by NPR’s Priska Neely, managing editor of the Gulf States Newsroom based in Birmingham. The ensuing conversation was wide-ranging, entertaining, astute, and riveting.
I was seated with friends and colleagues from Alabama Writers’ Forum, which supports literary arts, education, and awareness from around the state. The audience was diverse, and I definitely spotted some known Republicans in the mix, but the reputation of Alabama as a “deeply red” state – while evidenced by the politicians who seem to be perennially elected here – is misunderstood and misleading, perhaps, outside our borders. The “red state / blue state” trope, I’m afraid, emphasizes our differences more than our commonalities.
What strikes me is the fact that many people outside our state don’t comprehend that these sorts of public events and conversations happen frequently within our borders. In a time of condemning stereotypes, I’m afraid that certain condescending Southern stereotypes are still given credence by misinformed people.
Even so, it was rewarding to be in the company of like-minded and engaged Alabamians with a national influence and to note the ever-present hope and potential for our state and our nation moving forward. It’s always more productive, I think, to work for progress and change from within than to criticize from without.
For the first time in my memory, my mom has decided she likes fall leaves on the ground. On her afternoon walks up the neighborhood streets, she has been admiring the beauty of the leaves on the ground – and even says she hopes the neighbors don’t rush to rake or blow them away.
This is noteworthy because I remember a childhood of being told how messy the leaves looked and having to rake them repeatedly throughout the fall. It was frustrating to rake all Saturday afternoon with leaves still falling all around me. Even then, I would stress the virtues of letting the leaves decay where they lay; only years later did I learn that I was right.
Those afternoons were made sweeter if I had a radio nearby broadcasting John Forney and Doug Layton announcing another Alabama football victory with Coach Paul “Bear” Bryant at the helm.
Mother is particularly taken with a young maple in the front yard across the street. Its bronzy saffron leaves almost covered the yard and a brisk breeze would send them dancing into the street and neighboring yards. Its foliage turned color from the top down and now there is a thin layer of colorful leaves at the bottom, crowned by the bare limbs.
Early this morning, the neighbor’s yard maintenance guy arrived. Within a half hour, the maple leaves on the ground were gone. An hour after he left, a healthy amount of the striking leaves was already drifting down, covering the grass again. 
Unless you go the short distance from Shades Mountain into the higher mountains, this area is not known for a brilliant fall display. The fall color is even more subdued and muted this year, with a significant drought building since September. As much as I despise cold weather, however, there is an undeniable energy in the air when the weather begins to change and the fleeting beauty of Nature takes hold for a few weeks before the holiday season fully kicks in.
As the sun sets and more leaves fall, trees become more visible down the hill, creating a brief and peaceful display down the mountain toward the creek.
This year, most of the warm weather plants were damaged in a short-lived freeze. Some plants weathered it and others gave up. They have been replaced by pansies, which my mom loves (although I prefer violas for cool weather blooms). More pansies will be added over time, complemented with violas probably, as more of the remaining plants fade away.
A bag of bulbs arrived recently and are now in the ground; I planted them but will be surprised when they start popping up in late winter. Years ago, at my house in another town, I randomly planted ninety crocuses in the front yard one November. I planted them so I knew they were there. Even so, I was always startled when the first bud appeared in early February.
Pre-planned serendipity. 
My review for Magic City by Burgin Mathews was just posted on the Alabama Writers’ Forum website. Magic City, to be released in November, explores the rich heritage of jazz that emerged from the Birmingham area and went on to have national influence. Here’s a preview:
Magic City: How the Birmingham Jazz Tradition Shaped the Sound of America
Here’s a book that’s kinda different. Silent Bob by Joe Taylor is a comic fantasy novel about how our lives are really controlled by viziers on the roof. Who knew? My review for Alabama Writers’ Forum is just out.
Alabama Writers’ Forum has just published a new crop of reviews. I review Ayana Mathis’s new novel, The Unsettled, and a packed collection of short stories, The Best of the Shortest, that grew out of the legendary “literary slugfest” Southern Writers Reading in Fairhope, Alabama. And while you’re there, enjoy Susie Paul’s lively review of Jacqueline Allen Trimble’s How to Survive the Apocalypse, a new book of poetry. Check them out here:
Leah Myers has written a powerful and beautiful memoir about the challenges of maintaining a Native identity in the contemporary world. Here’s my review for Alabama Writers’ Forum:
Birmingham’s Sidewalk Film Festival is a festival which packs a lot of action, films, workshops, panels, and parties into a single weekend – the last full weekend in August before college football begins (this is Alabama, after all). The 2023 edition, which ended on August 27, was the 25th Annual Sidewalk. I have been going for most of those years and realized that my Sidewalk tee shirt from 2003 was older than many of the people around me on Opening Night.
In the years before I moved back to Birmingham, I would get a hotel room downtown on Sidewalk weekend, park the car, and walk everywhere. Last year, I tried commuting from my house south of town to downtown for the weekend’s events. In the process, I found that I was missing things I wanted to see.
John Hand Building, Birmingham
This year, I went back to the tried-and-true hotel plan and booked a room at the Elyton Hotel at the “Heaviest Corner on Earth” – the intersection of 20th Street and 1st Avenue N. The “Heaviest Corner” designation is a relic from the early days of skyscrapers and Birmingham’s “Magic City” boom years, when skyscrapers ranging from ten to twenty-one stories were built between 1902 and 1912 on each corner of the intersection. The Elyton is in the sixteen-story Empire Building, catty-corner from the twenty-one story John Hand Building – still one of the most impressive tall buildings downtown.
Before the pandemic and other complications arose in my world, I averaged seeing two or three movies a week in movie theatres. They aren’t made for small screens and I don’t like to watch them on small screens. Now, though, I depend on the annual Sidewalk Fest to splurge. Over the years I have learned “how to Sidewalk” and, to use a much-overused word, I “curated” a list of my weekend movie destinations. In addition to four nights of “Spotlight” films (“Alabama,” “Life & Liberty,” “Shout LGBTQ+,” and “Black Lens”), the festival screens over 300 titles (shorts and features) over three days on nine screens within walking distance in downtown. It’s important to plan, knowing there’s no way to see everything you might want to see. In the early years, I tried to catch as many titles as possible. My record, on a weekend when I saw a lot of shorts screenings, was thirty-two titles under my belt; nowadays, I know what I would be most interested in and draw up a more reasonable and relaxed schedule. I have seven screenings on the list this year.
OPENING NIGHT
After checking in, unpacking, and settling into my room on Friday, I headed up to the rooftop bar, Moonshine, to check out the views. To the south, there are views of the railroad tracks that run through the center of the city, Railroad Park, the sprawling UAB campus and Children’s of Alabama hospital, the Five Points South and Highland Park neighborhoods crawling up Red Mountain, and the ubiquitous Alexander Shunnarah law firm billboard perched atop the old Bank for Savings Building. 
To the north, the central city skyline dominates. What stands out for me in that view, though, is how much green is visible in all directions. The Birmingham Green project was started when I was an elementary school student. Now, the tree-lined streetscape of 20th Street provides a shaded promenade to Linn Park and the museums, stadium, and sports and entertainment spaces beyond the City Walk.
After spending time on the roof, it was time to grab dinner and catch a movie.
Art for Everybody, directed by Miranda Yousef; Alabama Theatre
I debated whether to catch the Opening Night film. In the early years of Sidewalk, more challenging films were offered on Opening Night. That seemed to end and go in the other direction after a John Sayles film was the opener and audiences were not pleased. The nadir was an opening night movie about a famous cat on social media. Since then, opening night selections have been more middle-of-the-road, trying to appeal to a wide audience. We all gather for Opening Night and split into our various tribes of film tastes on Saturday and Sunday.
Art for Everybody explores the surprisingly complex rise and spectacular fall of Thomas Kinkade, the “Painter of Light,” whose work was retailed in shopping malls throughout the country. In exploring Kinkade and his following, the film also touches on the national divide in the country. After Kinkade’s death from an overdose of alcohol and drugs, his daughters discover a vault of personal artworks that are completely different from the works he’s known for and cause some art critics to have second thoughts about Kinkade as an artist.
Art for Everybody is a surprise, but the most valuable part of the screening for me was the Q&A afterwards. Listening to director Miranda Yousef during the Q&A, I started to recall the days when I took great pleasure in being a striving creative artist. Yousef’s career in film, primarily as a film editor, has finally led to her directing a surprising and moving work of documentary art about art.
Leaving the Alabama, I was in the middle of the popular Sidewalk Opening Night Party in the street on 3rd Avenue N. Looked like fun, but I headed the two blocks to my hotel and bed.
SATURDAY
Passages, directed by Ira Sachs; ASFA Dorothy Jemison Day Theatre
I was excited to see the latest film by Ira Sachs so soon after reading competing reviews by Richard Brody and Anthony Lane, two film critics for The New Yorker whom I like very much and often agree with. Their reviews of Passages, however, run counter to each other and I was anxious to see with whom I agreed.
Passages presents a disturbing love triangle when Tomas (Franz Rogowski), who is married to Martin (Ben Whishaw), strikes up an obsessive affair with Agathe (Adele Exarchopoulos). The manic Tomas, a demanding film director, is one of the least appealing, most annoying, protagonists I can think of. He is full of cringe-worthy moments and pronouncements, and I wondered why anyone would be willing to put up with him. I didn’t like putting up with him for ninety minutes and was happy it was screened in the morning so I could forget it quickly.
Lane writes, “It’s the unhappiest film I’ve watched in a long while, steeped in Freudian pessimism …” Brody exults “the realm of emotional and sexual freedom that ‘Passages’ explores … is the crucible of imagination, the hallmark of progressive politics, and the essence of art.”
Alrighty then. I am Team Lane on this one.
Free Time, directed by Ryan Martin Brown; Sidewalk Cinema
Free Time is a comedy about a Millennial, about to turn 30. Drew (Colin Burgess) abruptly quits his desk job to find freedom and happiness. His ennui at work turns into ennui on the streets and spurs a movement of Millennials who, lemming-like, follow Drew’s dead-end lead. The amusingly frustrating performance by Burgess carries the movie. It is a refreshing document of a generational moment.
Parachute, directed by Brittany Snow; Lyric Theatre
Actor Brittany Snow adds “writer/director” to her resume with her debut directing effort, Parachute, written with Becca Gleason. Parachute is a look at Gen Z angst, addiction, and dependency that is, surprisingly, not a total buzzkill. In fact, the angsty are also rather charming. Riley (Courtney Eaton), fresh out of rehab for eating, body image, and relationship disorders, meets Ethan (Thomas Mann), a really nice guy with gradually revealed “issues” of his own. From serious subject matter, Snow applies a light touch that treats a serious subject seriously but is never gloomy in the process.
Leaving Parachute, I realized that, without planning to, I chose three narrative features in a row with really frustrating protagonists. Riley makes a series of bad choices and seems to dig herself further into a hole of her own making while a group of steadfast friends try to support her. We root for Ethan to win her over and become more than her “good friend.”
Moonage Daydream (2022), directed by Brett Morgen; Sidewalk Cinema
No frustrating protagonist here. Moonage Daydream, a trippy documentary about David Bowie, was released last year and had a run at Sidewalk Cinema in 2022. Sidewalk brought it back for the film festival audience that packed the house. Sidewalk co-founder and audience favorite Alan Hunter provided some pre-screening comments, including a reminder that he appears in Bowie’s 1990 “Fashion” video, and the tidbit that he and Bowie’s wife, Iman, took an acting class together.
Bowie, always a fascinating figure, moves majestically through Moonage Daydream in all of his personae – from elegant to extreme. Vintage video, performances, interviews, and plentiful music provide a kinetic audio feast, a celebration of a singular, irreplaceable artist.
Moonage Daydream seemed to be the proper way to end a full film-viewing day. Before turning in, I decided to walk a few blocks to a place that my writer friend John T. Edge told me to visit as soon as possible. House of Found Objects is Faizel Valli’s latest venture in downtown following the closure of his very popular Atomic Bar and Lounge. The place is an art installation with a bar. On a crowded night, it was hard to take it all in. John T. Edge wrote a great description for Garden and Gun: John T. Edge Toasts a Birmingham Bar Where Patrons Are the Stars – Garden & Gun (gardenandgun.com)
SUNDAY
I have always loved the quiet of downtown Birmingham on a Sunday morning. It has become a tradition for me for seek out meditative documentaries for my Sunday Sidewalk experience. After checking out of the hotel, I drove around for a while. People were walking dogs, taking morning runs, riding bikes. Birmingham streets would have been deserted not that long ago, before the downtown area became a residential as well as business hub. I like the neighborhood feel of today.
45365 (2009), directed by Bill Ross IV & Turner Ross; Birmingham Museum of Art
The fact that I know the zip code of Sidney, Ohio, tells how big an impression the Ross Brothers’ 2009 documentary about their home town made on me. In honor of the 25th Sidewalk, programmers added screenings of some films that have been shown over the past two-and-a-half decades. 45365 certainly merits a repeat viewing.
45365 chronicles life in a small American city. There is no narration – just an all-seeing camera following the people who live there. There is an occasional visit to the control booth of a local deejay. Most of the characters are only seen for a moment or two, but we feel like we know, have known, them.
I feel comfortable declaring that 45365 is one of my favorite movies of the 21st Century so far. Check out the trailer: 45365 Trailer – YouTube
King Coal directed by Elaine McMillion Sheldon; Sidewalk Cinema
After reading reviews and watching the trailer for King Coal, the documentary by Elaine McMillion Sheldon, I knew it would be the perfect documentary to pair with 45365. Sheldon, who is from West Virginia, explores the coal industry in Appalachia, the mythology and pride that surround the culture, and the hopes for a future beyond coal. King Coal, filmed in parts of several states, deals with the complexity of an industry that has sustained its communities while it also has exploited and destroyed them. At one point, Sheldon says, “I remember learning that if I said anything bad about the King, I was betraying my loved ones.” Watching the film, and remembering a time when Birmingham was dominated and sustained by iron and steel and heavy industry, I understand the conundrum Sheldon addresses in her lyrical and poignant celebration of her home, its past, and its uncertain future. Here’s a preview:
King Coal (2023) | Official Trailer | Full HD – YouTube
There was plenty more to see, but I decided that King Coal was a fitting denouement to a good weekend of viewing. Plus, walking from venue to venue in 96-degree temperatures helped me lose five pounds (another reason to attend this festival).
Those who love movies owe it to themselves to check out future Sidewalks. Years ago, Time listed Sidewalk as one of the “Top 10 Festivals for the Rest of Us.” MovieMaker has cited it many times, including as one of “The 25 Coolest Film Festivals in the World” and “20 Great Film Festivals for First Time Moviemakers.”
No matter what’s going on in my world, I’m always happy I showed up at Sidewalk.
Happy Sidewalk! 
Former Alabama governor “Big Jim” Folsom figures prominently in this collection of five plays. For those who don’t know about Alabama’s progressive (by Alabama standards) governor at the dawn of the Civil Rights Era, this might be a worthwhile introduction.
Professional Southerner 