Charming, Secretive, Indulgent
Whenever I visit a new place I try to find a book that is set in that location. Whether it is fiction or nonfiction, poetry or prose, I find that experiencing a city vicariously through the characters in a book enhances my experience once I am actually there myself. As the backdrop for whatever story I find myself engrossed in, otherwise non-descript streets, parks, and buildings become exciting landmarks for me. I inevitably find myself excitedly explaining the plot to whomever I am traveling with.
Despite taking this unique approach to building a reading list, I do no think that the stories I read have ever significantly influenced my own impressions of a city. That is, until Savannah. The same day that I texted a friend “Want to spontaneously road trip to Savannah this weekend?” I downloaded Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt. This book, which I was only partially finished with by the time we rolled into the historic district, had me completely enthralled. I would love to say that the following three words are based on experience alone, but I would be lying. Berendt has had just as much influence on me as the city of Savannah itself - my time there serving more as confirmation of pre-formed impressions rather than inspiration for them. So what follows are my completely biased, heavily influenced, but ultimately still true, thoughts on Savannah.
Charming:
Years before moving to the southeastern United States and years before entering my apple ID and clicking “buy” on Berendt’s book, I stopped in Savannah with my father for an afternoon. We were driving from Upstate NY to my new home in Florida, and he had earmarked Savannah as a city worth seeing. I remember walking down the brick sidewalks, weaving in and out of the beautiful little squares and marveling at the incredible architecture. “You know how the Confederate slogans always talked about preserving the Old South?” asked my dad, a history buff and lifetime northerner like me, “I think this is what they were talking about.” I could see the appeal. Savannah draws you in like a skillful hostess. The architecture is of another time, and the pace of the city moves as slow as the honey you can sample at the Savannah Bee Company. I could understand what had compelled Berendt to rent an apartment in Savannah after one spontaneous visit. Following my most recent stay which lasted less than 48 hours, my friend did a real estate search for Savannah and read the listings to me as we drove out of town. The sights, the feel, and the lifestyle of this out-of-the-way Georgian city enamored us.
Secretive:
Towards the top of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, Berendt describes how people in Savannah are masters of partially keeping their secrets. Some of them have illicit lovers that everyone knows about, others write bad checks, and others still refuse to actually spend a dime of their fortunes all while living among high society. It may have been a confirmation bias, but I felt as if I could sense that the reality of Savannah is resting just beneath the well-polished surface. The facades seem just as symbolic as they were beautiful. The entire time I was there I felt as if I wasn’t quite getting the whole story…like Savannah hadn’t yet decided if she was going to let me into the inner circle. There was more to discover…but only if I was deemed worthy.
Indulgent:
The lush squares, ornate architecture, and open container laws all inform a collective attitude of “I want it, so I’ll have it.” Now, I understand how that statement can be interpreted, so I feel the need to clarify that I did not sense any haughtiness during my short time in Savannah. More than anything the vibe there seems to lazily challenge the concept of “should”. If you were to say “you can’t take that drink to go,” someone would reply with a simple “why not?”. They want the drink to go, so they take the drink to go. It is easy living, and it is certainly something I could get used to.