In her 1983 Flora Levy Lecture in the Humanities at the University of Southwestern Louisiana, Shirley Ann Grau commented, "A writer is an evangelist whose preaching is subtle and utterly disguised--often from himself." This statement strikes at the heart of the contradictions in the work of this writer whose objective style belies the moral force of her narratives. At once worldly and quintessentially Southern in her sentiments, Grau professes surprise at the multiple, complicated responses that her texts inspire in critics. Her stories present a mysticism that underlies everyday reality, the unshakable vestiges of inherited (sometimes cursed) tradition that persist from generation to generation. Grau's fiction covers a surprising narrative range, giving voice to nostalgic adults and pampered children, to the poverty of the South and its wealthy grandeur, to the concerns of aging summer cottagers on the East Coast and to whites and blacks in the uncomfortable racial...