Murder Ballads and Givens Books & Little Dickens

 

Cover of Murder Ballads: Illustrated Lyrics &
Lore, by Katy Horan

WIR: Murder Ballads: Illustrated Lyrics & Lore

No, you are not flashing back to my earlier blog.

If you've known me for a bit, you'll be familiar with Murder Ballad Monday, which was a blog I co-founded and edited for about 6 years, up to about 6 years ago. That project was a hugely meaningful one for me in lots of ways, but I think for my purposes generally ran its course. Happily, SingOut! magazine still maintains the archive of posts, although some of the embedded links and videos have gone dead.

Katy Horan's 2025 introduction to the genre is heartfelt, nuanced, and beautiful gateway to a complicated subject, involving not only horror and violence, but a host of other individual and social sins, including misogyny and racism. With stunning contributions of her own visual art, she provides a quite winning starter course for others--speaking both the powerful force of the songs, as well as their many challenging dimensions.

Each of the 20 chapters tells the basic story of a song, provides as a succinct backround, and a short recording history for each. As it's a book, the listening will of course be left up to you and your own devices, but she does provide a version of the lyrics for each of the songs, and her distinctive art work, which has a good "ear" and "eye" for the music.

Horan's explorations do at least two things well. First, she's able to engage the songs sincerely because she understands that exploring a theme through song is different from endorsing that theme. That is, singing about murder or other individual or social sins is not in itself an endorsement or celebration of them. 

For some reason, that benefit of the doubt for artistic distance is not as readily given to singers or songwriters as it is some other artists. For instance, we don't suppose Agatha Christie was a terrible person just because she like to write about murder. A recent installment of NPR's Hidden Brain podcast discussed how horror film-makers and even horror film viewers are not given this space--with reviewers' critiques sometimes focusing more on condemning the "kind of person" who would go see such a film than on the film itself.

I've seen many genre critiques that make overly facile, indeed presumptuous, suppositions about artists' and listeners' inner motivations in exploring murder ballads. Horan, to her credit, doesn't go there, and indeed acknowledges the powerful, meaningful, and creative tension in her own attachment to the genre.

Without dipping too far back into MBM territory, one of my go-to illustrations that art and endorsement are different things is a performance of "Poor Ellen Smith" by Crooked Still (here for official audio; here for an audience video of a live performance). Among the two main variants of that song, Crooked Still performs the more rampantly misogynistic one. sung however, in the gentle voice of Aoife O'Donovan. All kinds of interesting space opens up in the cognitive dissonance between the words we hear and the voice we hear them in. 

Second, Horan gives space to recognize that the times and places that spawned these songs may be different and meaningfully alien to our contemporary sensibilities. Her discussions of "Lamkin" and "Marrowbones" toward the end of this collection give space for the "weirdness" between that time and this. I've discussed in MBM posts how difference between 19th century "courting culture," and 20th century "dating culture" might affect our understanding of how these songs functioned for folks at various times. 

Horan's volume is a fine combination of sound, sight, and sense, blending an artistic vision fully in-line with the Gothic themes and folk traditions of these songs. Murder Ballad Monday had a small cadre of contributors and 6+ years of writing to cover a lot of territory, and there's some overlap here. Horan cites some posts from my fellow Co-Founders in the end-notes. She also provides recording histories and recommended reading for those wishing to take even deeper dives. To that latter list, I would add Steven L. Jones's Murder Ballads, Old & New: A Dark & Bloody Record. Steve's book reworks much of his Murder Ballad Monday material, adding quite a bit more, across an even broader vision of the genre.

AWIGI: Givens Books & Little Dickens

I hope Danny Givens and his family and colleagues at Givens Books & Little Dickens in Lynchburg, Virginia will forgive me for pairing their delightful store with this grisly content. In some respects, what better place than in the Piedmont to find a book on this particular cultural heritage? Indeed, the events of "Poor Ellen Smith," mentioned above, happened not too far south of Lynchburg, across the border in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. That said, the atmosphere inside the store radiates welcome, wonder, and discovery--for both adults and kids.

I stopped into GB&LD on a rainy day in May, 2025. I was on a bit of a retreat, and staying at some friends' nearby lake house. I made some day trips to Lynchburg and Roanoke. By rainy day, I mean:

Dashboard photo from the parking lot of Givens Books 
& Little Dickens

My phone was telling me the cloudburst was soon to pass, and I wasn't in a particular hurry. Good thing I already had something to read with me.

Once I got in the store, though, I was immediately drawn in by the overall vibe. To my immediate left was the new books portion of the store, and to my right was the kids' section, including both books and toys. Behind the central info desk and cashier station was a cafe, and the prospect of a solid used book section toward the back left of the store. 

My son had recently stumbled across Horan's book at a bookstore in Richmond, Virginia, and he sent me a WhatsApp message about it. After a little bit of browsing, I figured I would look for it at Givens. I did need a little help, which was happily provided by a staff member behind the desk. She looked it up in the system, as it had just come in.

The brief history of the store on its website relates that it's been family operation for five decades. I dropped Danny Givens's name at the top of this section, as he was mentioned specifically by a friend of mine in the area after I posted about my visit on Facebook. She spoke up to say that Givens was a "key player in local economics and hometown pride." My own visit showed how the store promotes the solid rationale behind local, independent bookstores--with posters pitching "buy local" and explaining the jobs impact behind local retailer:

Poster inside GB&LD (5/13/25)

Painted orange and blue, GB&LD's exterior looks like a converted warehouse or garage, but the inside is warm and welcoming. As I've only visited Lynchburg that one day, and only a couple stores, it's difficult for me to speak to its accessibility for folks in the region. (For context, I live in an urban, academic neighborhood that has at least 6 good independent bookstores within easy walking distance from my home, and a city that affords me access to dozens of others through transit.) I welcome correction if I'm wrong, but it feels to me that getting to GB&LD requires a drive, but if you have a car, it's worth it.

You can take a video tour of the store here.

Givens Books & Little Dickens is set to celebrate their 50th year in business in early 2026. Congrats! Highly recommended as a regional bookstore with strong inventory, good shelf-curation, helpful booksellers, and a welcoming vibe. 

Yours truly at the slightly less rainy
tail end of my visit.

250 Years of Struggle & Song and Indy Reads

Cover image of African American Poetry:
250 Years of Struggle & Song (fourth printing)

O Black and *Known* Bards...

I try to sustain a regular poetry-reading practice. This year, I set myself the challenge of reading the Library of America's 2020 anthology of African American poetry--968 pages of poetry over the course of 12 months. I've taken many breaks for stand-alone volumes, but I started in January and am set to finish by the end of December. All I need to do is read about 5 pages a day for the rest of the year, so I could finish early.

My intent with WIRAWIGI is generally to wait until I've finished a book, or at least stopped reading it, before reviewing it. I'm just about 90% of the way there now, though, and this post will give me further incentive to meet my target. (Inviting the external surveillance, Monsieur Foucault...)

Most of the time, I read the poems aloud. Doing so slows me down in helpful ways, and tunes me in to the sound and the sense more fully. 

As a rule, I prefer single volumes by individual poets, discrete titles reflecting poems curated by the poets themselves, with their editors, intentionally to fit together. Anthologies are not my preference, and I even try to avoid "selected poems" editions by individual poets. I'll explain more about why that is another time.

I'm not an expert on the canon Kevin Young engages here. I'm immensely grateful, though, for the doors his efforts have opened for my reading--introducing me to key influencers in the history of American letters, not to mention history, and turning me on to poets I haven't yet encountered. As a general rule, I'm inclined to be more trusting of the choices as "canonical" the farther in the past they are, but I am eager to get through the last 10% of the work to see what other poets I might meet and begin following now.

Some highlights for me:

* An introduction to Angelina Weld Grimké. Her works in this volum were wonders in and of themselves, and the encounter with them led me to Kerri K. Greenidge's The Grimkes: The Legacy of Slavery in an American Family I will write more about that book in another entry.

* Renewed appreciation of Gwendolyn Brooks as a marvel and a wonder. (I'm based in Chicago, and so this is somewhat boosted by some personal reasons. She is also, I believe, the only poet in the first 90% of the book whom I've heard read their works in person.)

* An introduction to Afaa M. Weaver, a Baltimore-based poet whom I had not previously encountered. I've picked up a solo work by him, and look forward to more. I grew up in Maryland and have ties to Baltimore. Weaver's work is but one example of how this anthology is stoking my To Be Read (TBR) pile.

* Finally, I was grateful for Young's inclusion of works by James Weldon Johnson. Johnson's "Lift Every Voice and Sing," dubbed the Black national anthem, has been proposed as a candidate for the National Hymn. It's a bit beside the point here, but my take on the First Amendment makes the idea of a National Hymn a non-starter. Absent this issue, though, I wouldn't object.

What was new to me, though, was Johnson's "O Black and Unknown Bards." The first stanza:

O black and unknown bards of long ago,

How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?

How, in your darkness, did you come to know

The power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre?

Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes?

Who first from out the still watch, lone and long,

Feeling the ancient faith of prophets rise

Within his dark-kept soul, burst into song? 

That this anthology reflects Young's curation of 250 years of struggle and song, and not 400, reflects at least a little of the contrast between the oral and musical literacies African folks brought to North America and the disparities in access to reading and writing literacies afforded to them and their descendants over those four centuries. Johnson's poem links the struggle and the song--an apt complement to "Lift Every Voice."

Yours truly and spouse visiting Indy Reads
December 1, 2024

Indy Reads...Together!

I picked up the discounted copy of the anthology on a December 2024 visit to the Indy Reads bookstore in Indianapolis. It's located in the Fountain Square area of Indy, southeast of downtown, and just east of the intersection of I-65 and I-70. Indy Reads is a local literacy non-profit driving a culture of 100% literacy, and the bookstore's proceeds help fund adult literacy programs in the region.

Led by the inimitable Ruba Marshood, Indy Reads provides a range of Adult Foundational Education, High School Equivalency, and English Language Learner programs for adults in the region. Indy Reads's web site cites levels of low literacy within Indiana as a key opportunity to rally in support of greater access to education, workforce development and generational impact. Their statistics state that 1 in 6 Indianans is reading below the adult equivalent of a 5th grade level. I'm not sure of the precise dates they are drawing from, but this data is not too far at odds with national-level statistics in the U.S. You can check out recent OECD data here.

Interior shot of Indy Reads Bookstore (K. Bigger)

As mission-based and mixed used & new bookstores go, the Indy Reads Bookstore supports a healthy critical mass of titles--with some strong curation by the booksellers as well as a fair amount of serendipity for the used book buyer. I'd rate it a medium sized shop, based on my experience across a range of cities and stores. 

My copy of the Library of America Anthology was likely a remainder copy, not used. They offered a nice discount, as well as offering a point-of-sale opportunity to make a donation to Indy Reads's vital mission.

Helpfully, the neighborhood also offers some strong dining options near by, so it can be well worth your while to stop through Indy Reads on your way through town. As I start to build out these posts, I'll revisit this one with a link to an interactive map that can allow you to chart your way there.

I'm generally of the opinion that we can make too much of the distinction between learning to read and reading to learn. They are at root both information-seeking behaviors, where we look for the tools, symbols, and experiences to help us navigate the world we live in with one another. Indy Reads offers a terrific opportunity to embody that solidarity in supporting both your learn journeys and those of others who might face greater barriers. 

Intro to WIRAWIGI

The author at Talk Story Bookstore, Hanapepe, Kuaui, Hawaii
Westernmost independent bookstore in the U.S.

Welcome!

A common internet truism declares that reading books and buying books are two different hobbies. I won't argue. Nevertheless, WIRAWIGI (or "What I Read and Where I Got It") will be a place to discuss both, and maybe find a few illuminating points of contact.

Despite this being an internet blog, in both cases--stores and books--I plan to discuss physical things.  I'm a devotee of both physical books and brick-and-mortar independent bookstores. 

I prefer reading physical books for a couple different reasons, but mostly because of the comprehensive, multi-sensory experience they offer. I'm not saying this approach is better for you. It's just better for me. I've occasionally gotten an audiobook on CD in the past (obviously, the past), and have read at least a half dozen or so books on an e-reader. I may tell the story about why that is at some point, but generally, I like the feel of the book in my hand, the experience of turning the pages, and all its other subtle virtues. As reading technologies go, it's pretty durable.

The other reason I prefer the physical books is that at least with a significant subset of my non-fiction reading, I'm often flagging passages and writing in the margins. That's something that e-readers make possible, perhaps in better way, but it's not enough of a reason to go there.

Although I'm a big advocate for libraries, I tend not to use them as much as bookstores. This is, again, a personal preference and not a recommendation to you. Part of it for me is that library bindings don't offer the above-mentioned feel of the book in hand. Part of it, also, is that books can quickly become tools or friends for me, and I'm not always ready to return them when I'm done reading them the first time.

I've also come to be a firm believer in the importance and value of local, independent bookstores to the quality of my life and the quality of life of my community. I think of my participation in them as a kind of social investment in community and democracy. I can and will say a good bit about that later, but I think several common goods emerge out of creating a market for books in communities and helping to circulate that money in local economies.

What I propose to do going forward is to provide brief reviews of both a book and a store, perhaps putting them in conversation. I hope the posts will inspire you to explore one or the other, or both. 

2024 and 2025 have been busy years for me, both in terms of reading and in terms of visiting a wide array of locally-owned and operated bookstores. Between January 2024 and December 1, 2025, I have read over 200 books and visited over 250 independent bookstores, across 30 U.S. states (plus the District of Columbia) and 4 foreign countries (Scotland, the Netherlands, Iceland, and Canada). 

I get a small dose of joy when I see social media posts with book stacks. I get similar joy entering into books and entering into bookstores. Both stoke my curiosity and offer opportunities for connection. I hope this conversation does at least a little of the same for you.

Note: For sustainability reasons, I'm planning on incorporating advertisements on this blog, although not accepting ads from certain companies operating at cross-purposes with several of the values I'm trying to elevate here. This will no doubt be an evolving list.

If you're curious about a book I discuss here, and want to acquire a copy for yourself or others, I encourage you to go and order it from your local, independent bookseller. If that's not feasible, then I would lift up bookshop.org as an on-line ordering platform you might wish to use, which will allow you to designate a beneficiary independent bookstore.