Rating: 
Summary: A Little Too Grotesque?
Review: After reading O'Connor's collection of short stories as a part of an honors college class, my classmates and I tried to decide if this was truly a great book. We were split half and half in our vote of yea or nay. I voted nay.O'Connor was a master of the grotesque, which is evident in each of her short stories. Her writing has excellent verisimilitude and many different layers can be found with each new reading. It is a book that can be read and understood by high school drop-outs and college graduate students alike. To truly understand the multiple layers, though, a deeper understanding of the Bible is required. O'Connor was a deeply religious author and has many Biblical references in each of her stories. I personally did not like her stories, although I thought her writing style was excellent. I can learn the lessons O'Connor tries to present in a way other than what O'Connor uses in her stories. Her lessons are excellent, but her means to her ends are a little too violent for me. Our generation has been raised in extreme violence, and in effect has become numb to it. The violence in O'Connor's stories is less extreme and hence I found it more disturbing. It, as well as the lesson it illustrates, stays with the reader long after the book has been closed.
Rating: 
Summary: Converge, Diverge
Review: Anyone who has read the book will know that it does not depend on the substantiation of physics. The book is about O'Connor's beliefs concerning life. The stories are not destroyed by her title, in fact, the title gives the stories a unity of theme that otherwise would not be obvious. Every story in the collection is excellent, with the weakest probably being Parker's Back. Everything the Rises Must Converge is the best collection of short stories published in the twetieth century and anyone who has not read it has missed a great deal of both enjoyment and insight.
Rating: 
Summary: Everything that rises must fall
Review: Flannery O'Connor's novel is a blending together of nine short stories, all independent of one another working together to achieve a common goal. In my opinion, if I have read 155 books in my life, this book does not make the top 150. No single story was very appealing, making it nine slow starts and nine mediocre finishes. To give a more objective view of the book, it was written in a third person omniscient point of view. O'Connor takes a somewhat cynical approach toward each of her characters. In their descriptions, the flaws of each character are pointed out rather than the virtues. These are some of the more obvious styles that O'Connor uses. In the stories, various devices are used. Among these are flashback, imagery, and hyperbole. Each of these individually contributes to the overall story. Without these devices, the point O'Connor was trying to make would not be as solid. The overall theme in the book seen throughout the stories is a need for personal change. Each protagonist goes through a series of events and detailed descriptions of what is wrong with everyone else, only to point the finger at themselves at the end. The moral of this is that rather than trying to pin our problems on others, maybe we should take responsibilities for our own flaws. If from what I have said you still wish to read the book, by all means, go ahead. Many people have liked this book, but I am quite convinced, it is not my style.
Rating:
Summary: Everything that rises must fall
Review: Flannery O'Connor's novel is a blending together of nine short stories, all independent of one another working together to achieve a common goal. In my opinion, if I have read 155 books in my life, this book does not make the top 150. No single story was very appealing, making it nine slow starts and nine mediocre finishes. To give a more objective view of the book, it was written in a third person omniscient point of view. O'Connor takes a somewhat cynical approach toward each of her characters. In their descriptions, the flaws of each character are pointed out rather than the virtues. These are some of the more obvious styles that O'Connor uses. In the stories, various devices are used. Among these are flashback, imagery, and hyperbole. Each of these individually contributes to the overall story. Without these devices, the point O'Connor was trying to make would not be as solid. The overall theme in the book seen throughout the stories is a need for personal change. Each protagonist goes through a series of events and detailed descriptions of what is wrong with everyone else, only to point the finger at themselves at the end. The moral of this is that rather than trying to pin our problems on others, maybe we should take responsibilities for our own flaws. If from what I have said you still wish to read the book, by all means, go ahead. Many people have liked this book, but I am quite convinced, it is not my style.
Rating:
Summary: AWESOME COLLECTION TO START YOU ON A LOVE OF O'CONNOR
Review: Flannery O'Connor's untimely death at the age of 39 cut short a gifted career that certainly would of produced even more vivid works than are available. This collection includes some of her finer short stories. My favorite, and the one I would like to review is titled, "Revelation". This is a story of Mrs. Turpin, a self righteous bigit who spends most all her time analyzing and judging other people (sound like anyone you know???). O'Connor seethingly depicts the racial tensions in the south, just as William Faulkner does in so many of his writings. As a reader you come to dislike Ms. Turpin so much that you are relieved when in the end, Ms. Turpin certainly does receive a 'revelation'. The ending is a little silly, but that is part of O'Connor's style. She makes fun of the everyday and brings it to life! In all of Flannery O'Connor's writings look for the mention of light, this is the authors way of letting you know a revelation is about to be had! Read all the stories in this collection and you are guaranteed to be an O'Connor fan forever! HAPPY READING!!!
Rating:
Summary: Oddly beautiful
Review: I nearly fell out of my chair when I began reading this collection. I then read it cover-to-cover in a single sitting. It is difficult to describe O'Connor's style, simply because it is so infinitely unique. "Visceral" is a start, but it falsely suggests an explicit rendering of detail and emotion. Rather, the stories are written with an odd, and even ethereal, detachment. Each story surprises and frightens you; and, as you finish one, you find that you must read the next. It is a strange spell. The characters seem so exaggerated, yet palpable and familiar. I do wonder why Flannery O'Connor isn't read more. Her writing is so taut and finely tuned; her stories disturbing, haunting, and ineffably sad.
Rating:
Summary: Oddly beautiful
Review: I thoroughly enjoyed this book, composed of short stories by the late Flannery O'Connor. As much as I liked The Movie-Goer by Walker Percy, I enjoyed this much more. Her stories indeed contain violence. Not all of them. It is the theme of the stories that to come to know the truth is a costly, painful experience. I still get chills thinking about the ending of the story "The Lame Shall Enter First". Her style of writing is clear. She depicts nature well, from forest scenes to eye color. She does a wonderful job in spinning the story. There may be the limitation of maintaining the spotlight only on southern folk. But the good author writes on what he or she has experienced. Her stories are parabolic: pulling out the rug from under us, and with the rug, how we perceive the world. I also look forward to reading more of this shooting star who has left us too soon.
Rating:
Summary: Joke's on you, buddy.
Review: In response to Mr. Allison's mechanistic musings (see below), it should be pointed out that O'Connor was a trenchant critic of De Chardin. The title is *meant* to be ironic in the extreme, which is obvious if you read the title story.
Rating:
Summary: All Time Best Short Story Author
Review: Kurt Vonnegut considers Flannery O'Connor the world's best short story author and I can easily see why. In each of her stories the depression era south is vividly depicted in a unique, concise and impactful style. Each character is uniquely and realistically flawed and the scenerios are almost without exception tragic, and still reading her words is a truly delightful experience. For anyone interested in writing fiction these short stories are great inspiration.
Rating:
Summary: One of the best in the genre
Review: My copy of _Everything That Rises Must Converge_ has been shouting at me from high up on my bookshelf for several years now. I don't know when I picked up this book; in the dark ages, I suppose, back when I appreciated no book more than the Bible, and most books less than Louis L'Amour's _Sackett's Land_. But my book keeps yelling. "Hey ...!" it says. "I'm getting booklice up here! What are you reading that [book] for ...?"--Don't be too alarmed. All of O'Connor's books shout at readers that way. Do you want to know something, though? The book has a pretty good reason to shout. Although it's been months since I finally read the collection, it hasn't quieted down. Moreover, I've grown appreciative of its company. _Everything that Rises..._ was released after O'Connor's death. The hallmark story leads a parade of nine others, a veritable Mardi-Gras of intellectuals, petulants, vindictives, intolerants, and misconceivers, all down a path toward redemption, and thankfully, all with their shirts _on_ (except for that one guy with the tattoo, of course). "Theology--ugh. Stop saying 'redemption'," some readers holler. Fortunately, O'Connor's theology is well-masked. In fact, I had to read her biography, look at her essays, and dig with a backhoe before I located any theology. But I found it. It was hiding there in plain sight, and once I saw it, I wondered that I had ever missed it. I had trouble locating her theology because O'Connor has a habit of flaying peoples' minds to reveal their darker side. And when you flay somebody's mind, well, to quote Lady Macbeth, "Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?" Wait now--before you shout "Violence--ugh. Stop saying 'flay'," I need to tell you about her work. O'Connor uses no words of mystery. That woman was club-thumping blunt. If you prefer stories that wash down pleasantly with watercress sandwiches and Darjeeling, then you'd better find your authors elsewhere. However, if you need something that brands your soul, and if you want the burn to last a long, long time, then read this collection. O'Connor was passionate about two things in her life (well, three things actually, if you count large domesticated birds, but that's for another review): she loved her religion, and she loved the South. Her writing feels the effects of both. If the South provides the actual meat and potatoes of the story, then her Catholicism provides the salt, without which her stories truly might have been intolerable.
The South is not just a home for O'Connor. The south looms over her writing like a half-ton gorilla. But in a good way. Her region gives her work location, yes, but more importantly a sense of history, and of direction. She was fiercely unrepentant of her Southern heritage, at least in terms of its importance to her craft. Her collection of essays asserts that her Southern characters were grotesque because of their bad manners, yet to her, "bad manners are preferable to no manners at all." Her work is equally tempered by her fierce Catholicism. In this age, where the church itself is virtually anathema, readers may be surprised that O'Connor attended Mass nearly every day of her life. O'Connor is unrelenting in her work to provide situations of redemption and grace to broken people, and just in case the reader accidentally misses her point, she makes her characters very ugly and her redemptions--well, the only word to describe an O'Connor redemption is violent. O'Connor's God is not a bubbly, bearded Gnome who dances with pixies at lake's edge. _Her_ God whomps you on the head with a plank, because _someone_ hasn't been paying attention in Life 101. Pow! Redemption! This concept may be difficult for Protestant readers, because we are often quick to identify grace as a gift from the God of mercy. We do well, therefore, to read this Catholic, who reminds us that grace is doled out by a God who is just. I guess I am telling you this because O'Connor's characters don't fall off cliff because it was determined that way--her characters fall because they are so fallen in the first place. They fall because of the inevitability of the character's nature. Humankind, in O'Connor's opinion, needs the occasional swift kick-in-the-pants to return them to a state of grace before God. Besides, is it not infinitely more pleasurable to watch the Coyote fall into the canyon when his hand-made Acme hang-glider collapses, than to endure the Care-Bears' fight against the bad, evil meanies, with the power of good? Robert Fitzgerald assembled a 25-page introduction to this work. Despite its length, Fitzgerald's piece is probably the best biographical account on the market, and is certainly a useful look at the work it precedes. However, Fitzgerald, like too many writers of forewords, assumes too much knowledge of O'Connor's works on the part of the reader. He supposes we have heard of Taulkingham, or of Ruby Turpin, or Hazel Motes. We will not encounter these people in the present work, and the extra names and plot summaries only get in the way. Fitzgerald is dead, though, so I guess he won't be changing the introduction any time soon. O'Connor's works are audacious and skilled. Occasionally, the reader can spot the thorns popping through the seams of some of the stories, due to her untimely death. It is evident to the reader that a few of these stories needed more rubbing and polishing. Yet, one by one, O'Connor's characters, depraved sons-of-guns one and all, limp through their metronome world until they are ultimately redeemed by their God. The intensity of reader's experience does not slacken until the last page. I think this explains why _Everything that Rises Must Converge_ still shouts at me. And it will shout at you, to remind you that you are fallen, too--"Hey stupid! Put down your pen and read me again!"
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