The city of Savannah, isolated in the coastal South of America has always been an enigmatic place. There are more popular towns in the region, such as its richer and better dressed cousin, Charlestown, Atlanta is also just around the corner, along with the throngs of Louisiana with its mystical bayou similar to the swamps of Savannah. New Orleans and its occult isn’t too far away either. It is a bit out of the way after all, and you have to go there with deliberation or you might just get stuck in other cities leading up to it, like Charleston. You’d probably need to change flights too.
I remembered trying to go to Savannah once to visit a friend and it was difficult to get to and expensive, so I gave up on the idea. The little I know from the American South I know only passing through my extended trips in greyhounds. When Berendt visited Savannah he was enamoured by how quaint the place was — there are more squares than any cities in America, each prettier than the last. It is a place where a lot of movies are shot, especially period pieces where old houses serve as good backgrounds. And the people there are unique in their own way as the place itself is unique.
The characters that Berendt encountered during his sojourn ranges from a black drag queen, lawyers who care more about football than he does on the outcome of his case, an eternal partygoer who uses his rented homes as a museum (not to mention his criminal records), a pianist who has 6,000 songs under her store of memory. Berendt is not so much an active participant in the lives of the Savannah residents but his presence is merely an observer. Perhaps he had in mind a novel based in Savannah instead of a travelogue packed with anecdotes of the wild Savannah personages. Instead, the second half of the book shifted into true crime for the alleged murder of Billy Hanson by Jim Williams.
Williams is an antique dealer whose humble origins did not stop him to manage to snag some of the world’s renowned antique to his home in Savannah — some of the most reputable work by Fabergé has passed through his hands. He managed to purchase the Mercer house, owned previously by the songwriter Johnny Mercer but who never lived in it because of bad debts. Williams treats the Mercer house as his fortress and pleasure castle, where he throws an exclusive party once a year which is the highlight for many Savannah residents, but a secret party the following day where the real shenanigans happen. Williams does things his way and couldn’t care less much about what people think, but he does have a precarious relationship with Billy Hanson, which later results in Billy’s death.
Jim Williams’s trial is dissected with a microscope, coupled with the collected stories of author’s interaction with the people directly involved with the trial. At times the book meanders to their lives moreso than the case itself. And I do think this is the intention, that although the latter part of the book veer towards a resolution of some kind, the tangents it reroutes to make up the fibre of the story. The presence of the mystic South, where Jim Williams often consult the root doctor Minerva makes up for a fascinating read. The title is also derived from one of Minerva’s many rituals — the half hour before midnight is for doing good and the half hour after is for the sinister.
It is also an exploration of the justice system in the States, but with the scope of someone who can afford the cost of legal fees. Jim Williams spent a fortune to take up his case multiple times and was willing to spend all of it, seeing money as the ammunition for the legal fees. It is also how Williams is perceived, he is eventually, revealed to the judge and jury as a homosexual who was very much involved with Billy Hanson. Perhaps Williams’s identity played a part in the results of his verdicts.
I have never been to Savannah myself, but if I can guess, the book may imitate the pace of the city — relaxed and meandering, you can be exposed to the anecdotes to the point that you can retell the stories, but I doubt that you will have a bond of intimacy to any of its characters. I find the characters here fascinating, especially as they are portrayals of real residents in Savannah. However, I cannot be drawn to Berendt’s own character as he stands as an observer, nor am I sympathetic with Jim Williams’s plight in his trials. It is a well-written book, but without much to take away from after I’ve read it.
