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I read James by Percival Everett. I read Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn in high school, though they weren't assigned; I was the kind of annoying overachiever who found lists of books that every high school and/or college student should read and read them. This book made me wish I remembered Huck Finn better, because then I might have appreciated it even more.
Everett obviously took inspiration from Twain, but James is more than Huck Finn's story from James's point of view; it's James's story, and the character has a very different feel than Twain's Jim, as far as I recall. A central conceit of the novel is that James speaks as Twain wrote his dialect only to protect himself and others from white people who want to believe that Black people are intellectually inferior. James's first-person narration and his dialogue with other Black characters when no white ones are in earshot occupy higher registers. James has a great interest in language. He can read and does so in stolen moments in Judge Thatcher's library, and he images or dreams himself debating Enlightenment figures more than once, challenging their positions on race and slavery.
I did find the focus on language a little heavy at first, but even though American lit is far outside my own area as a medievalist, I'm aware that there's a lot of debate about the origins and development of Black English. Historical records present significant problems: the earliest recordings of Black speakers from a range of social statuses do not present the dialect that people like Twain wrote. We know minstrel songs are racist parodies, but wasn't Twain trying to rise above that? Well, scholars have studied Twain's dialect, and it's frustrating. It's not consistent. How much was made up, and how much was observed? How much was dialect, and how much was idiolect—the language of a particular individual, as eccentric as it may be? People being recorded in the nineteenth century would have thought of the situation as a formal one, even if told to speak their own language, and that would mean that bi- and some multidialectal people would use the most formal dialect they could.
Language stands in for and complements other elements of life for Black people in the novel, who are never safe. Language gives one small form of protection, posture another, and so on. They're necessary but never sufficient. A free person can be kidnapped from a free state and brought into slavery. Someone who escapes from slavery leaves people behind—often family, but at least friends. Taking people along on an escape, asking for help, or even helping someone else risks their lives too.
James is a fully drawn and deeply sympathetic character. His complex relationship with Huck doesn't make sense at first, but before the end, we understand. I could remember enough of Huck Finn to see certain episodes coming, but they were never entirely familiar, and there are departures from Twain's novels. I couldn't always tell where Twain's influence petered out and I was reading just Everett. I found myself with more sympathy for Huck than I remember from reading Twain as well, partly because I'm older and better positioned to have sympathy for teenaged boys.
The novel ended in exactly the right place, and yet I felt sad that I won't get to spend more time with James. I plan to read some other novels by Everett in future.
Everett obviously took inspiration from Twain, but James is more than Huck Finn's story from James's point of view; it's James's story, and the character has a very different feel than Twain's Jim, as far as I recall. A central conceit of the novel is that James speaks as Twain wrote his dialect only to protect himself and others from white people who want to believe that Black people are intellectually inferior. James's first-person narration and his dialogue with other Black characters when no white ones are in earshot occupy higher registers. James has a great interest in language. He can read and does so in stolen moments in Judge Thatcher's library, and he images or dreams himself debating Enlightenment figures more than once, challenging their positions on race and slavery.
I did find the focus on language a little heavy at first, but even though American lit is far outside my own area as a medievalist, I'm aware that there's a lot of debate about the origins and development of Black English. Historical records present significant problems: the earliest recordings of Black speakers from a range of social statuses do not present the dialect that people like Twain wrote. We know minstrel songs are racist parodies, but wasn't Twain trying to rise above that? Well, scholars have studied Twain's dialect, and it's frustrating. It's not consistent. How much was made up, and how much was observed? How much was dialect, and how much was idiolect—the language of a particular individual, as eccentric as it may be? People being recorded in the nineteenth century would have thought of the situation as a formal one, even if told to speak their own language, and that would mean that bi- and some multidialectal people would use the most formal dialect they could.
Language stands in for and complements other elements of life for Black people in the novel, who are never safe. Language gives one small form of protection, posture another, and so on. They're necessary but never sufficient. A free person can be kidnapped from a free state and brought into slavery. Someone who escapes from slavery leaves people behind—often family, but at least friends. Taking people along on an escape, asking for help, or even helping someone else risks their lives too.
James is a fully drawn and deeply sympathetic character. His complex relationship with Huck doesn't make sense at first, but before the end, we understand. I could remember enough of Huck Finn to see certain episodes coming, but they were never entirely familiar, and there are departures from Twain's novels. I couldn't always tell where Twain's influence petered out and I was reading just Everett. I found myself with more sympathy for Huck than I remember from reading Twain as well, partly because I'm older and better positioned to have sympathy for teenaged boys.
The novel ended in exactly the right place, and yet I felt sad that I won't get to spend more time with James. I plan to read some other novels by Everett in future.
