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All but the most rabid of Confederate flag wavers admit that the Old Southern tradition is defunct in actuality and sigh that its passing was accompanied by the disappearance of many genteel and aristocratic traditions of the reputedly languid ante-bellum way of life.

Many earlier writers, mourning the demise of the old order, tended to romanticize and exaggerate this `` gracious Old South '' imagery, creating such lasting impressions as Margaret Mitchell's `` Tara '' Plantation.

Modern writers, who are supposed to keep their fingers firmly upon the pulse of their subjects, insist upon drawing out this legend, prolonging its burial, when it well deserves a rest after the overexploitation of the past century.

Perhaps these writers have been too deeply moved by this romanticizing ; ;

but they can hardly deny that, exaggerated or not, the old panorama is dead.

As John T. Westbrook says in his article, `` Twilight Of Southern Regionalism '' ( Southwest Review, Winter 1957 ): `` The miasmal mausoleum where an Old South, already too minutely autopsied in prose and poetry, should be left to rest in peace, forever dead and ( let us fervently hope ) forever done with ''.