No stories stir up debate like those of Flannery O’Connor. In high school, tea cooled and cookies lay untouched as members of my book club gesticulated about their opinions on “Greenleaf,” one of O’Connor’s short stories. In the story, Mrs. May lords over her farmhand, Mr. Greenleaf, and insults his charismatic, lower-class family. As a roundabout result of her arrogance, a bull impales Mrs. May through the heart. O’Connor intimates that the bull piercing Mrs. May strips away her prejudices and enables her to see clearly. Despite accusations that “Generation Z” suffers from apathy, my peers argued ferociously about whether the story could be beautiful, despite its medium of violence.

A century after her birth, Flannery O’Connor’s writing still provokes.