Source of
books: I own both of these, but listened to Huckleberry Finn on
audiobook.
My mom spent a lot of time reading to us kids when we were young, and this meant we were exposed to some significant classics at very young ages. As in Charles Dickens when we were single digits, for example.
We were also encouraged individually to read other books on our own, and these were surprisingly varied and proved to be influential on my own thinking years later.
One of those books we read together was Huckleberry Finn.
I later re-read it, either in high school or college, and maybe in my 20s after that? In any case, I was both familiar with the book and hadn’t read it in a long time.
I have mentioned that the book was (as of 2014), one of the dozen or so books that were the most influential on me, and specifically because of the scene where Huck decides he would rather go to hell than violate his own conscience. That has been my choice as to how I live my own life ever since, much to the horror of the Evangelicals in my life - my parents, unfortunately, included. Just like Huck decided that black people were humans and entitled to freedom, I refuse to dehumanize LGBTQ+ people, or insist that women be relegated to certain gender roles, for example.
The reason I re-read this book this time was that our book club, The Literary Lush, chose James by Percival Everett for this month. James is a riff on Huckleberry Finn, from the perspective of Jim - and with some important plot changes as well.
Because of that, I figured I had better brush up on Twain’s original, as did several members of our club.
It was, shall we say, interesting, to re-read. As a child and later as a younger man, I think I missed some things. It wasn’t that I failed to remember the problems with the book - I certainly remembered the liberal use of the N-word, and the casual and absurd cruelty that Tom Sawyer treated Jim with at the end.
[Note: Percival Everett also uses the N-word in James, and defends it as being necessary to understand true American history.]
Rather, I didn’t have the background knowledge of Minstrelsy necessary to understand exactly how and where Twain indulges in lazy stereotypes. It is these that are more troubling to me now - because it is both obvious that Twain’s heart is in the right place, and also that he has some glaring blind spots typical of white people of his time.
Having re-read it, I also am now of the opinion that, although Huckleberry Finn is great literature, it is also not particularly useful as a book for teaching children.
There are a number of problems with it in that role, in my opinion. First is that it is, at its core, a book about a racist white kid and his journey in the direction of becoming a less racist person. That’s not a bad story, of course, and may very well be useful for white kids who grow up in, say, a MAGA household, where the Klan’s view of minorities is all they knew. But of what possible use is it for black kids? Why should they have to subject themselves to racial slurs and lazy stereotypes? So they can see a racist white boy become less racist? I’m not seeing it. A worthy book for teaching should resonate for everyone rather than alienate part of its audience.
Second, the book feels very dated in a lot of places. And in a way that Shakespeare mostly avoids. (The obvious exceptions are The Merchant of Venice and The Taming of the Shrew.) I mentioned the racial attitudes, of course, but also the culture itself is foreign in many instances, and likely won’t resonate with the average child or teen. Me and my kids are a bit odd in that regard, because we have steeped ourselves in old books practically since birth. But most people don’t have that context.
Third, the canon isn’t static. Just like we no longer consider the Greek and Roman Classics to be the only true classics now, there is nothing magical about the 19th Century. Sure, we read some of the old Greeks - and we should! - but other works have fallen by the wayside, read mostly by book nerds like myself.
There are any number of excellent books by other authors that would substitute. To understand racial issues of the time, I would prefer Frederick Douglass to Twain, for example. His perspective is more accurate and more timeless. With limited space in any curriculum, I think it is better to give that space to other voices. I know this is controversial, but I stand by my opinion.
That said, Huckleberry Finn is, despite its flaws, a very funny book. Twain was a master of satire, and this book takes on a lot of staples of American culture, particularly Southern culture. There is the dark humor of the Grangerford and Shepherdson feud which leaves everyone dead. There is the revival meeting, and the attempt to steal a dead man’s estate. There is Huck trying to impersonate a girl.
Even the scene with Tom Sawyer and Jim is hilarious even as it is a bit painful. Tom is just straight up absurd, with his head in his fantasy books, and no grounding in reality - unlike Huck, whose hard life has given him far more common sense than Tom will ever have.
And, the best and most memorable episodes revolve around the Duke and the Dauphin, two quintessentially American scam artists.
I should mention that those two were also highly influential on my thinking. I hadn’t ever really experienced confidence men before, and the way they manipulated and lied their way across the book was eye opening. They were masters of preying on what people wanted to believe, leading people to essentially swindle themselves.
Later, this would lead to my distrust of Bill Gothard (and my objection to joining his cult, which my parents pointedly ignored and overruled.) And even later, to my recognition that Donald “Grab ‘Em by the Pussy” Trump was a charlatan and confidence man as well. (I was correct one hundred percent on both.)
I mean, let’s look at some of the scams. There is the first one, at the revival meeting. The Dauphin pretends to be a reformed pirate, and uses so many of the techniques you can see at work today. The “mildly wicked” schtick who plays on the way puritanical people like to be titillated. (Hence why today, a reformed stripper or ex-gay is the way to go…) Being bad, but not too bad, right? It’s genius in its own way, and it still works today.
There is the attempt to scam the inheritance, which demonstrates how an observant person can glean enough facts and flavor to appear to be part of the family. Trump demonstrates this technique really well, actually. He has picked up just enough of the Evangelical schtick to signal that he is “one of them,” even though he has nothing of Christianity about him. This works particularly well for Evangelicals of my parents’ generation.
The con men feed their victims what they want to hear - whether it is that the dead relative loved them, or that they deserve certain money.
And, there is “The Royal Nonesuch,” the dirty show that isn’t. Twain’s insight into psychology is perceptive: nobody wants to be known as a fool, so better if everyone gets played for a fool than just you. I think this too plays a role in why so many can’t admit Trump scammed them. Or that Gothard scammed them. [Fill in the charlatan of your choice here…]
So, the short version: I love and enjoyed Huckleberry Finn and I still think it is too problematic to be taught.
Now, let’s talk about James. I had never read any Percival Everett before, although I had considered reading Erasure. Having read this book, I think I need to put more on my list.
James starts out following the plot of Huckleberry Finn, but departs from it about halfway through the book. Because the book is from a different perspective, some events in the original are barely mentioned with a sentence, while other scenes are expanded on significantly. A few are new to the book, filling in gaps that Huck is not aware of.
At that midway point, though, things become very different. After Jim is sold, he chooses to free himself, and from then on, the plot is all original. I found the second half to be more enjoyable to read, because it feels less preachy and less stage-setting and correcting than the first.
Everett essentially uses the first half of the book to establish a few things. Jim (like most of the enslaved) talks in dialect only around white people. He speaks standard English around other black people. He is literate, and a hell of a lot smarter than Twain lets him be.
So, we get a good bit of “code switching,” pretending to be dumb, and so on. And also a lot of “Huck may have told the story this way, but here’s what really happened.” Thus, parts do feel a bit preachy.
The second half, though, is definitely exciting, and the action picks up a lot. One particularly fascinating episode occurs when Jim/James is recruited into a minstrel group. They perform in blackface, which leads to a Twelfth Night level layering of identity. Jim is a black man pretending to be a white man pretending to be a black man.
Exposed in this episode is the limit most white people have in accepting equality. The leader may not approve of enslavement, but he still expects a level of deference and obedience.
I appreciated the songs performed - a lot of classics of a certain era. And also the subtle and not-subtle racism embedded in so many of them.
Related: the roots of both Bluegrass and Country are in Old Time music, which had its origins in “string bands” - groups of black people, enslaved or free, who performed for the entertainment of white people. Particularly after the Civil War, these groups became integrated, combining influences from Ireland, Scotland, Africa, and the Caribbean to form the sounds we know and love (or hate) today.
Another idea that Everett explores in this episode is that of “passing.” One of the ostensibly “white” members of the band is actually an escaped slave - just one with light skin. This was and is common, of course. Since the overwhelming majority of the descendants of the enslaved have significant European genes, it is obvious that rape was not merely common, but indeed endemic to the enslavement system. And, to be clear, there are some brutal rape scenes in this book.
Mark Twain himself would explore this idea in one of his later books, Pudd'nhead Wilson, which is also arguably the first courtroom procedural. To a degree, I believe this book also is an example of Twain’s evolution - there is a clear pattern of his moving away from the bigotry of his youth. Contrast, for example, Roughing It and its horrible treatment of Native Americans with Following the Equator, which shows a far more evolved view of indigenous people generally. May we all grow positively as we age like Twain did.
I will note here that there are some shocking events and revelations in this second half. I won’t spoil things by revealing them, but simply say that they will turn Twain’s version completely on its head.
One of the conversations we had at our book club discussion is whether James feels like Jim from the original. This is a good question. Anytime a character is reimagined by another author, the fit will be imperfect. Doubly so in this case, since Everett’s intent is to show James as very different from Jim as Huck (and Twain) see him.
My own conclusion is that James is a possible version of Jim. Not the only possible one, but one that is possible and plausible. There is another re-imagining coming out this year as well, Big Jim and the White Boy: An American Classic Reimagined by David F. Walker and Marcus Kwame Anderson. It also sounds interesting, and could be another possible version of Jim.
Because I listened to Huckleberry Finn on audiobook while driving, I didn’t make notes about quotes, although I suspect many of them are already well known. James, on the other hand, I read in physical form, so I did note a few.
One recurring scene is where James has dreams where he talks to Enlightenment era philosophers - he reads their books on the sly. One of the most fascinating is his conversation with Voltaire, wherein he points out that even though Voltaire is against slavery, he still believes as many of his time did, that white people were more civilized, more developed, more fully human. Ditto for Thomas Paine later in the book.
Quotes from Twain’s book are scattered throughout - often with James providing a riff on the ideas. For example, James builds on Huck’s realization that religion and morality are not the same - and are often in conflict. Everett in one case takes the iconic scene where Huck has his epiphany, and instead gives James the central role in bringing that about. Here is my favorite line in the scene:
“Way I sees it is dis. If’n ya gots to hab a rule to tells ya wha’s good, if’n ya gots to hab good ‘splained to ya, den ya cain’t be good. If’n ya need sum kinda God to tells ya right from wrong, den you won’t never know.”
Another line stood out, in the scene where the Duke and Dauphin show up. And brag about how easy it is to swindle people.
I could believe it, I thought, pretending, in slave fashion, not to be there. After being cruel, the most notable white attribute was gullibility.
This is so true. And it is particularly (although not exclusively) true of right-wing white people, and most true of all about white Evangelicals, unfortunately. And it is indeed that combination of gullibility and cruelty - ergo Trump’s overwhelming popularity in that demographic. Jim and Huck later discuss why it was so easy to fleece racist religious white people.
“Yes, but them people liked it, Jim. Did you see their faces? They had to know them was lies, but they wanted to believe. What do you make of that?”
“Folks be funny lak dat. Dey takes the lies dey want and throws away the truths dat scares ‘em.”
Blogger Doug Muder (a favorite of mine) described what James notes: right wingers believe the lies they want to believe - the ones that are pretty and make them feel good about themselves - and reject the ugly truth about how their beliefs and political policies harm others. The truth scares them, just like it did the enslavers and those who benefited from slavery. To accept the truth is scary, because it demands change.
There are many humorous moments in the book. One of those is the episode where Norman, who is passing, has to pretend to own the darker-skinned James. Norman is nervous as hell about it.
“Listen, you’ve got to relax,” I said. “To all of them you’re white. Hell, to me you’re white.”
“There’s no need to be insulting.”
Later, there is another fascinating exchange, involving a young woman, Sammy, who has joined Norman and James on the run.
“We don’t even know where we are,” Norman said. “Bound to be a slave state on the other side of the river.”
“Probably,” I said. “We’re slaves, Norman. Where we are is where we are.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I don’t know. Sounded better in my head.”
“I know what it means,” Sammy said. “We’re slaves. We’re not anywhere. Free person, he can be where he wants to be. The only place we can ever be is in slavery.”
Finally, there is a scene where Norman and James end up hitching a ride on a steamboat - stowing away, really. The issues of color and class intersect in interesting ways. Norman can pass for white, but he can’t (at least in his bedraggled state) pass for rich enough to buy a ticket.
“Look at me.” Even in the dim light I could see how disheveled he was. Aside from being soaked, his clothes were filthy from the hull’s tar. Looking at him like that gave me a renewed appreciation of the power of his skin color. That alone had been enough to faze and control the slave in the engine room. Even though Norman looked like the poorest and worst-off white man, he still commanded fear and respect. But he would not be able to pass through the throng of white people on the decks above us - though they could never identify him as black, they would see him as something worse, a very poor white person.
I am reminded of Lyndon Johnson’s famous - and highly accurate - quote:
“If you can convince the lowest white man he's better than the best colored man, he won't notice you're picking his pocket. Hell, give him somebody to look down on, and he'll empty his pockets for you.”
This, more than anything, explains the phenomenon described as “people voting against their economic interests.” The problem is reducing things to economics. Far more important to most people is status. “I may be poor, but at least I’m not a N----r.” Or, in own era, add in the thrill of kicking immigrants as a way of feeling better about one’s own declining prospects. “At least I’m a real American, not one of those people…” Hey, let me recommend a book in this regard: Dying of Whiteness.
One interesting result of our reading this book (after listening to Huckleberry Finn on audiobook with my two youngest kids) is that my youngest, the 8th grader, read James as well. She is on the cusp of adult literature these days, and it is thrilling to see her choose books like this to explore. Teenagers are so underrated.
I strongly recommend reading these two books together. Certainly, don’t try James if you have never read Huckleberry Finn - that would be to miss Everett’s point entirely, and make some of the plot difficult to understand. The two go together.
***
My mom, books, and an unfortunate change:
I found that listening to Huckleberry Finn was an emotional experience. As I mentioned above, my mom spent a lot of time reading to us, and of all the memories I have of my childhood, this one ranks really high. If she can be proud of anything she did raising us, she has a right to consider this the pinnacle.
So much of who I am today was informed by the literature we read. David Copperfield opened my eyes to the evils of child labor and the grinding nature of poverty. The Scarlet Letter educated me as to what religious hypocrisy looked like, and how hiding one’s sin leads to self-immolation of the soul. The rape scene in Christy taught me how groomers prey on children - and how religion tends to aid in the coverup.
My mom also encouraged me to read subversive books. An example is The Octopus by Frank Norris, which was about the unholy marriage of big government and big business during the Robber Baron era - and the way that the corruption led to the exploitation of small farmers, in this case in the San Joaquin Valley. Also, Norris was essentially a communist. Animal Farm was another - and one that made me realize that Orwell wasn’t just talking about Communism in that book.
In retrospect, it is almost astonishing how left-leaning my parents were in the 1980s. Sure, they were really into Reagan and voted Republican, but they were also actively anti-racist, pro-immigration, and empathetic toward those less fortunate.
So what the fucking hell happened to them? That is a question I keep asking myself.
By the time I was a young adult, my mom was willing to sacrifice relationships to her belief in gender roles, and my dad was rattling on about how we needed to stop accepting refugees and do something about the Hispanic problem. What the fuck happened?
I’m not really sure, but I have thought about some changes in their reading habits.
For my mom, I’m not sure she actually read any literature she hadn’t already read after her early 20s. All of the books I mentioned above are ones she had already read by the time she introduced me to them. I literally cannot remember the last time I saw her read an actual classic.
What I do remember her reading a lot of was Agathe Christie mysteries - no shade there - I myself read a lot of Christie and love a good murder mystery. Also, a lot of Christian romances - Janette Oke and the like. Nothing wrong with some fun fluff in any case.
The more problematic part is she devoured books by charlatans. Mostly “alternative medicine” crap, but also far too many books I would describe as “Christian Crack.” Highly addictive books about stuff like demon possession and culture war insanity that prey on fears and insecurities and offer solutions that look an awful lot like a full rejection of anything modern, secular, and particularly African-American in culture. It feeds on itself, and is truly an addiction.
My dad’s reading followed a similar pattern, unfortunately. From introducing us to Tolkien, Tom Clancy (in a very bowdlerized version…), and C. S. Lewis’ non-Narnia books, to mostly reading religious stuff. I also remember him reading Leon Uris and other thoughtful (if sometimes right wing) authors back in the day, but haven’t seen that much since.
One of the things I looked forward to as a child was being able to talk with my parents about books, so it was a great disappointment that they seem to have stopped reading stuff that would stretch them. Or anything that I recommend they read. I feel like for reasons I will never understand, they chose to stop growing sometime around their late 30s, and instead retreated into trying to recapture the nostalgia of the past.
This is something I have tried to avoid as a parent. If my kids like a book, I read it. And this has meant we have gotten to discuss books a lot. If you poke around on my blog, you will find that I regularly mention books my kids introduce me to - and honestly I have discovered authors this way since they were little.
My goal is also to continue to read books that stretch me. This includes reading classics, of course - and I do love classic literature. But also modern books - like James - that put a new perspective on the past. And non-fiction on a variety of topics. That’s literally the title of my blog: I intend to continue to learn and grow, and, I hope, become a better person as I age, like Twain did, rather than regress into bigotry and reactionism like my parents chose to do as they grew older.
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