James by Percival Everett: a dramatic literary lesson
Writers often talk about point of view and it can be challenging for novelists to differentiate the “povs” of different characters.
Reading Percival Everett’s novel is a dramatic demonstration of the vital importance of point of view in fiction—and indeed in life.
For those still unfamiliar with this remarkable novel, it retells the story of Huckleberry Finn from the point of view of the runaway slave who travels down the Mississippi on the raft with Huck.
Since it had been so many decades since I read Mark Twain’s classic tale, and because I was around Huck’s age at the time, I felt the need to refresh my memory.
I did that by listening to the original read by a volunteer from St. Louis, Missouri, on Book Radio, a site where anyone can listen to works whose copyrights have lapsed and which have therefore reverted to the public domain.
Hearing Twain’s story as a mature adult was a hair-raising experience. I remembered some of the scenes and lines, including Huck’s comment about his intention to “light out for the territory” so Aunt Sally can’t adopt and civilize him. I also remembered the the blood feud between Grangerfords and Shepherdsons, and the shameless Duke and Dauphin, con men whose brass neck exceeded even their abysmal ignorance.
On this hearing, what struck me was something else: the jaw-dropping brutality of the social beliefs and customs portrayed in the story. Steeped in boys’ adventure literature, Tom Sawyer came across as smug, ignorant and cruel. Huck, far less sure of himself, was able to glimpse some of the social evils and follow his conscience in the moments when it mattered most. Yet far too often he passively followed Tom’s lead in creating “adventures” with no thought of their effects on other people.
Percival Everett’s James conveyed with painful clarity how the mechanisms of a slave-owning society operate for the purpose of perpetuating the status quo. Everett’s portrayal of the brutal combination of violence and propaganda makes it clear why Twain’s Jim goes along with whatever pointless tasks Tom dreams up for him.
Everett’s James is a thoughtful man, a self-educated philosopher who asks questions about why things are as they are. He is also a husband and father who nevertheless takes risks to befriend the neglected child Huck who has also befriended him. For much of the story he remains as helpless as Twain’s Jim.
Much of this novel follows Mark Twain’s plot closely. However, a satisfying twist adds a surprise element. The reader also gets to witness James standing up for himself and his loved ones. The way he does so leaves the reader thinking deeply about how limiting are the choices open to an individual forced to survive in a violent society.
I burned through the unputdownable James, and I’ve been thinking about it since. I’m calling the Booker, and/or the Pulitzer for this work. I’m confident it will win one or both. As it most certainly should.