Saving CeeCee Honeycutt

Saving CeeCee Honeycutt

Hoffman, Beth.  Saving CeeCee Honeycutt.  Penguin Books:  New York, USA, 2010.

Saving CeeCee Honeycutt

Book Description:  Twelve-year-old CeeCee is in trouble.  For years, she's taken care of her mother, Camille, the town's tiara-wearing, lipstick-smeared laughingstock, a woman who is trapped in her long-ago moment of glory as the 1951 Vidalia Onion Queen.  When tragedy strikes, Tootie Caldwell, CeeCee's long-lost great-aunt, comes to the rescue and whisks her away to Savannah.  There, CeeCee is catapulted into a perfumed world of prosperity and Southern eccentricity - one that appears to be run entirely by strong, wacky women.  Both hilarious and heartbreaking, Saving CeeCee Honeycutt charts the journey of an unforgettable girl who loses one mother, but finds many others in the storybook city of Savannah.

See:  http://www.bethhoffman.net/.

Beth Hoffman disappointed me.  She's from OHIO, not the south.  Dammit.  I can usually tell who are the imposters and who are the genuine Southern writers.

I guess, really, that's a good thing.  I love Southern Fiction. 

'Cecelia Rose, I'm taking you to Georgia.  I want you to see what real living is like.  All the women dress so nice.  And the people are kind and friendly - it's so different from how things are here.  (p. 1-2)

Deserted by her weak father, CeeCee manages the worst of her mother's progressing mental illness pragmatically.  After giving her mother a bath and putting her to bed at the age of twelve, CeeCee cleans the mess her mother'd left in the kitchen.  'After filling a bucket with hot soapy water, I scrubbed the macaroni and cheese off the stovetop, then I stood on a chair and wiped down the cupboard doors.  There was nothing to be done with the scorched pan, so I tossed it in the garbage.  Once I'd cleaned everything up, I got down on my knees, reached behind the stove and pulled the plug from the outlet.  From now on  Momma could eat cold sandwiches unless I was home to keep an eye on things.' (p. 20)

While visiting Oletta's Aunt Sapphire, CeeCee meets an old lady:  "One old lady with deep suffering eyes reached her hand through the metal rails surrounding her bed, spread her bony fingers, and begged me to take her home.  It was the saddest five seconds of my life. (p. 177).

While playing Chinese checkers with the old ladies, CeeCee encounters a problem:  "I tried not to smile as I gathered the marbles.  After counting them out by color and placing them into the holes, I looked at Sapphire and shrugged.  'There aren't enough.' 

Miz Obee's face tensed, but Sapphire looked at her friend kindly, patted the table, and said, 'Just set up the board as best you can.  We'll play with whatever we got.'

I thought that was one of the wisest things I'd ever heard anyone say. (p. 180)

As I watched this silent exchange between Sapphiree and Miz Obee, it occurred to me that that's what friends should do: cherish the good and pretend not to notice the harmless rest.  (p.181)

As I watched all the comings and goings and listened to the charming 'Welcome to Savannah's' and heartfelt 'I'm so pleased to meet you's' that dripped like honey from these women's lips, I realized that Southern hospitality not only came from the heart, but was a practiced social art that had been passed down from one generation to the next - like fine silverware or china.  Southerners had a way of doing things that made you feel special, and Mrs. Odell soaked in every drop of the kindness.  (p. 263)

[Momma'd] been more distraught than usual about her life in Ohio and was on a rampage when I got home from school.  After smashing a coffee mug against the refrigerator, whe looked at me and cried, 'Being in the North isn't living - it's absolute hell.  Northerners have no idea what real living means, and they don't know a damn thing about etiquette or hospitality.'

What triggered that outburst I'll never know, but as crazy as Momma sometimes was, I now recognized that her statement held more than a grain of truth. (p. 267).

And as the sweet aroma of the fresh peaches mingled with the sound of their voices, I folded the memory into myself, feeling a peace I'd never before known. (p. 273)

Momma had left this world and set herself free, and in doing so, she had set me free too.  As much as I missed her and wished I could hear her laughter one more time, I believed she was out there in the big bright somewhere, watching me, cheering for me.  Loving me. (p. 306)