As is his style, Richard Grant inserted himself squarely in the midst of Natchez, Mississippi in order to tell the stories of the eccentric town. Tucked away from major thoroughfares and with a long history, Natchez is quintessentially Mississippian in some ways and entirely unique in others. Alternating between present day and the late 1700s, Grant offers epitomizing narratives of a place plagued with a racist history that continues to have a lasting affect on social interactions throughout the town that is torn between tradition and progress. Via stories about the annual Tableaux (a low-budget musical put on by the whole town depicting a very whitewashed history of the area), the Deacons for Defense of Justice during the civil rights era, and lbrahim (West African royalty who was sold into slavery and ended up in Natchez), the book gives you a window into this absurd, resilient little town. Ultimately, there is a tension between preserving what makes Natchez charming (a la “Keep Austin Weird”) while also reckoning with its past and addressing growing racial animosity. Like many towns in this era, they are taking steps in both directions. ⁣
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Had I not read Grant’s previous memoir (Dispatches from Pluto), I may have actually had a hard time with this one because the stories feel just so utterly absurd. But having that grounding gave me confidence in Grant’s reporting and allowed me to lean into the stories in all of the wild peculiarity. I enjoyed learning more about Natchez, but, as Grant admits at the end, would never want to live there.