Bragg’s voice is as rich as ever as he finds fresh ways of telling stories both hilarious and poignant ... little jewels on family, faith, food and Fords. Bragg’s Alabama roots especially shine through when he writes about his family, and oh how we love hearing about his family ... Bragg balances the quaint by dipping his toe into current events—something he has typically shied away from in his writing ... In lighter, more mouthwatering chapters, Bragg reveals himself to be a heck of a food writer ... vintage Bragg: comforting, thought-provoking and as heartfelt as it gets.
Reading a Rick Bragg book is like sitting down with an old friend --- a cantankerous and frequently funny old friend ... His diehard fans will revel in revisiting their favorites, while newcomers will enjoy his wit and wisdom and his insight on a wide range of seemingly ordinary topics ... The genius of Bragg’s storytelling is his ability to spin a yarn that most people will connect with in some way regardless of where they grew up. While he writes about the South, his stories touch on universal themes ... the perfect mix of humor and storytelling, and will delight and enthrall readers of all ages. Upon reaching the final page, some may find themselves immediately starting the book over again (which is what this reviewer did).
The larger slices of Southern life are the most welcome (the reader often is still hungry when the tidbits end) ... Without even trying, Bragg explains why it is humans came to believe in miracles.
... reads as if designed for our current short-attention-span state, many of the pieces just a couple of pages long, each of them offering a dose of humor or nostalgia or adventure or, quite often, descriptions of food that make you feel you can’t live another minute without a plate of fried chicken ... Many of the pieces are funny.
Bragg’s most evocative writing comes forward as he recounts his love for the primitive pleasures of pigs’ feet from small-town Alabama, which he respects as much as the sumptuous fare of New Orleans’ Commander’s Palace. Bragg includes his reminiscences of writers Harper Lee and Pat Conroy, and he expresses his appreciation of Billy Graham as the best champion of Southern religion. Particularly recommended for regional collections.
Many of the columns aren't more than two or three pages long — less than the length of this review — but, collectively, they do add up to yet another heapin’ helpin’ of feel-good musings about mommas, and pickup trucks, and coon huntin’, and guns, and tomato sandwiches, and did I mention guns? The articles are loosely grouped according to subject — childhood, present-day irritations, holidays, and so on. Some are humorous, some are cranky, and many are sentimental ... While Where I Come From’ offers many well-crafted and charming diversions, they generally lack the emotional depth and memorable characters that populated Mr. Bragg’s best-selling memoirs about the red clay hills of northeastern Alabama. But if you’re seeking a respite from this year’s reality overload, and you think that blog entries are just about the ideal article length, then Where I Come From’ might just be your perfect getaway.
To be sure, not every piece is as memorable as Skinny’s, and a few are flimsy. Among them, the author writes multiple letters to Santa, and you can only go to that well once—if you should have occasion to go there at all. But such contrivances are the exception. On balance, the columns are clever, unassuming, and, most notably, told in a distinctive voice. They do what good columns do: sometimes tug at your heart, sometimes make you laugh to yourself, sometimes both. You read one and then go on with your day with a better sense of what it’s like to be from somewhere ... A column-per-day prescription for those looking to find a new friend on the page.
Despite a generous helping of folksy wit and charm, this compilation of previously published columns from Pulitzer winner Bragg amounts to a frustratingly shallow tribute to the South. There are laugh-out-loud moments throughout ... However, Bragg’s jabs at contemporary culture, as a self-described 'crotchety relic,' wear thin as the book proceeds ... Bragg grouses that too many Southerners 'anchor themselves with clichés,' but the whole book is a paean to Southern clichés. More damagingly, Bragg makes a half-hearted attempt to account for the hate on display at the 2017 Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, Va ... Bragg’s longtime fans will enjoy the piquant one-liners they’ve come to expect, but new readers looking for meaningful insight into the South should look to his previous works.
