The Southern Gothic Cage
The Blackwood Estate did not stand upon the earth so much as it sank into it. In the humid, suffocating heart of the Mississippi Delta, the manor was a skeletal ruin of white pillars and weeping willow trees, surrounded by a swamp that seemed to breathe with a slow, rhythmic malice. For Ulysses, the world consisted of a twelve-by-twelve stone cellar, a single barred window that offered a sliver...
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