Trash, Allison's landmark collection, laid the groundwork for her critically acclaimed Bastard Out of Carolina, the National Book Award finalist that was hailed by The New York Times Book Review as "simply stunning...a wonderful work of fiction by a major talent." In addition to Allison's classic stories, this new edition of Trash features "Stubborn Girls and Mean Stories," an introduction in which Allison discusses the writing of Trash and "Compassion," a never-before-published short story.
First published in 1988, the award-winning Trash showcases Allison at her most fearlessly honest and startlingly vivid. The limitless scope of human emotion and experience are depicted in stories that give aching and eloquent voice to the terrible wounds we inflict on those closest to us. These are tales of loss and redemption; of shame and forgiveness; of love and abuse and the healing power of storytelling.
A book that resonates with uncompromising candor and incandescence, Trash is sure to captivate Allison's legion of readers and win her a devoted new following.
In 14 gritty, intimate stories, Allison's fictional persona exposes with poetic frankness the complexities of being ``a cross-eyed working-class lesbian, addicted to violence, language, and hope,'' rebelling against the Southern ``poor white trash'' roots that inevitably define her. Bridging the bedrooms, bars and kitchens of its narrator's adult world, and the dirt yards and diners of her '50s South Carolina childhood, this magnetic collection charts a fascinating woman's struggle for self-realization and acceptance through a sensual, often horrific tapestry of the lives of women to whom she is connected. In the mythically resonant early pieces, the conflicts of her foremothers, like Great-grandmother Shirley, ``the meanest woman that ever left Tennessee,'' embody a grim legacy of drudgery that presages the seeds of her own rage and cavernous hunger, later finely played out through various love affairs. With a keen feel for the languid rhythms of Southern speech, Allison ( The Women Who Hate Me ) masterfully suspends the reader between voyeurism and empathy, breathing life into a vast body of symbolic feminine imagery.