By Donna Jo Napoli
An unforgettable novel, in line with a real tale, approximately racism opposed to Italian american citizens within the South in 1899.
Fourteen-year-old Calogero, his uncles, and his cousins are six Sicilians residing within the small city of Tallulah, Louisiana, miles from any in their countrymen. They develop greens and promote them at their stand and of their grocery store.
Some humans welcome the immigrants; so much don't. Calogero's family members is stuck in the course of tensions among the black and white groups. As Calogero struggles to conform to Tallulah, he's startled and delighted through the risk of nighttime gator hunts within the bayou and through his strong emotions for Patricia, a sharp-witted, sweet-natured black lady. in the meantime, each day, and each false impression among the white neighborhood and the Sicilians, convey Calogero and his kinfolk toward a terrifying, violent confrontation.
In this affecting and unforgettable novel, Donna Jo Napoli's encouraged learn and spare, attractive language take the vintage immigrant tale to new degrees of emotion and searing fact. Alligator Bayou tells a narrative that every one americans should still recognize.
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Extra info for Alligator Bayou
Except for the crickets. There must be millions of them. We pass Sheriff Lucas’ house, and his two dogs charge off the porch, ears and jowls flopping. I’m glad there’s a fence. The dogs are massive, and their short hair covers loose, wrinkled skin. I pull back. Cirone reaches between pickets and pets one. I gasp. ” But that dog is acting as if he likes it. ” I feel stupid. ” Cirone shoves the hand that petted the dog in my face. ” I sneeze. ” Cirone laughs. ” A soft sound comes from above. It’s a large bird.
As good as his. We’ll have a nice talk. ” Wasting all that white paint—all that money—just to impress the doctor? Supper is quiet; things have settled down. Francesco’s talk with Dr. Hodge yesterday morning went well. Francesco told Carlo all about it, and I eavesdropped. The doctor didn’t mention goats. ” Francesco is going to leave his shotgun at home. And when Willy needs groceries, he’ll send a servant. If the two men see each other on the street, one of them will cross to the other side. That’s what the doctor promised, anyhow.
The cat hisses low. Then he walks on toward the stench of the slaughterhouse. Cirone’s fingers dig into my arm. “A panther,” he breathes. “They stay in the forests, away from people. ” I’m shaking. In Sicily mountain wildcats don’t even come up to your knees. “I can do without special. ” “We did good. We did really good, Calo. You’re never supposed to run from them. You just stare. A panther won’t attack unless you look away. ” I yank his arm, and we run. We don’t slow down till we see our house.