Historians in Conversation

Wayne Flynt’s Dixie’s Forgotten People: The South’s Poor Whites offers a thoughtful and deeply researched look into a group that’s often been overlooked in Southern history. Rather than relying on stereotypes or generalizations, Flynt brings these communities to life with empathy, nuance, and historical insight.

After reading the book, I examined four scholarly reviews to gauge historians’ responses to Flynt’s work. Each reviewer brought a unique perspective—ranging from labor history to folklore, music, and gender studies—which helped me see the book in new and unexpected ways.

In this post, I’ll share how these historians interpreted Flynt’s study, compare their viewpoints, and reflect on what I learned from reading their critiques alongside the book itself. It’s a chance to see how historical scholarship becomes a conversation—one that’s rich, layered, and full of insight.

As I read through the four scholarly reviews of Dixie’s Forgotten People, I was struck by how each historian brought a different lens to Flynt’s work—almost like looking at the same landscape through four distinct windows.

James A. Hodges, writing in The Journal of Southern History, approaches the book from an economic and labor history angle. He appreciates Flynt’s detailed account of poor whites and their long-standing marginalization, especially in relation to New Deal labor policy. For Hodges, the book fills a gap in economic narratives that often overlook class divisions among white Southerners. He sees Flynt’s work as a much-needed correction to those broader historical oversights.

William B. McCarthy, on the other hand, takes a cultural route. In his review for The Journal of American Folklore, McCarthy focuses on Flynt’s ethnographic storytelling—his attention to folk traditions, oral histories, and cultural practices. He praises the book for affirming the uniqueness of Southern cultural narratives and sees poor whites not just as economically disadvantaged, but as keepers of rich and meaningful traditions. Where Hodges is drawn to policy and structure, McCarthy is captivated by memory and storytelling.

Bill C. Malone, writing in The Journal of American History, finds a middle ground between social and cultural history. Known for his work on Southern music and working-class identity, Malone highlights Flynt’s ability to connect historical analysis with artistic insight. He describes the book as accessible and relevant, particularly for readers interested in the intersection of class and culture. Like McCarthy, Malone values Flynt’s attention to everyday life, but he’s especially attuned to how music and labor shape identity.

Margaret Ripley Wolfe, in The North Carolina Historical Review, brings yet another layer to the conversation: gender. She applauds Flynt’s portrayal of Southern women and families, noting how the book sheds light on domestic life and the roles women played in sustaining poor white communities. Wolfe’s review adds depth by emphasizing the social fabric of the South and Flynt’s contribution to a more inclusive historical narrative.

Together, these reviews demonstrate the multifaceted nature of Flynt’s book. Hodges sees structural inequality, McCarthy sees cultural preservation, Malone sees class identity through music, and Wolfe sees the strength of family and gender roles. None of them contradict each other—instead, they build on one another, offering a richer, more layered understanding of the South’s poor whites.