Percival Everett, the veteran American writer, has revamped Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in his most recent novel, James, retelling the tale from the slave Jim’s perspective. This new interpretation appears to be a logical rebuttal to the racial and lingual themes inherent in the original narrative. The fact that this angle has never been explored is quite a revelation.
In an interview from his office at the University of Southern California, where he serves as an English professor, Everett says, “Following my research, I was astounded to find that no one had narrated this story from Jim’s perspective before. I realised that I hadn’t either. This inspired me to undertake the project as it felt instinctively necessary”.
At 67, Everett’s enduring and prolific literary career is highlighted with the release of James. This celebrated novelist, poet and short story writer has a number of his other books, including the Booker nominated The Trees, set for reissue by Picador this year. Moreover, his postmodern satirical novel, Erasure, adapted into the film American Fiction by Cord Jefferson, bagged the Oscar for the best adapted screenplay this year.
As for his first brush with Twain’s novel, “It was a condensed version that I read as a child. I recall it being just an adventure, although I can’t remember the specifics of what was omitted. I do remember, though, that I was quite underwhelmed by Tom Sawyer. While I wasn’t overly captivated by Finn during my initial reading, Twain’s Roughing It and Life on the Mississippi left me with a deep appreciation for their humor and delightful storytelling,” shares Everett.
Reflecting upon his encounter with Huck Finn in high school, as an African American teenager, he acknowledged the portrayal of Jim as slightly contentious. However, he attributed this to a youthful America grappling with its own interracial disparity and clashing societal norms. Consequently, he admired the novel for its humour, its inherent cultural pertinence, and its dialect.
Everett’s illustration of Jim portrays the duplicity enforced by colonial circumstances. To stay alive, the slave has to articulate one thing while implying another, thereby constantly encoding their speech. Their words were forced to serve two masters simultaneously. From the book comes a crucial phrase: “The key to safe navigation in the world relied on the command of language and eloquence.”
He then discusses the film “12 Years a Slave.” Although visually stunning, he points out a significant issue with the film’s language. The protagonist, a free black man, is kidnapped and dropped onto a southern plantation. Despite the circumstances, he comprehends everything the slaves say. He disputes this aspect, arguing that due to the language complexities of that era, the protagonist shouldn’t understand everything. He believes this omission exists widely in the depiction of slavery in American films and literature, removing critical aspects of the slaves’ human experience.
Furthermore, Everett’s rendition of the character Jim provides surprising comedic components, tempered with a tangible anger. Omaha is incensed that an intelligent man felt compelled to depict himself as foolish in order to outsmart his captors. A particularly bitter yet humorous scene has Jim joining a minstrel group, with the help of a light-skinned black man who is able to pass as white. The situation is ironic, with Jim being forced to wear blackface to convincingly portray a white minstrel mocking African-American diaspora music.
In the novel, there emerges a scene filled with such plentiful levels of irony, that it couldn’t fail but to write itself without effort. It features the main character resorting to darkening his face further, to pose as a Caucasian person impersonating an individual from the black community. Interestingly, this make-up is applied by a black individual pretending to be a white man. Of all the narrative’s passages, this is undoubtedly my favourite. This scene called for the inclusion of Daniel Decatur Emmett, having been part of a roaming minstrel team. It all fell into place naturally.
It is important to note that the practice of minstrelsy is noticeably absent from official accounts of notable or true American root music. Certainly, it was indeed the original folk music of America. In the late 19th century, during his tour of the U.S., Dvořák derived inspiration from it to compose the renowned “Symphony from the New World.” In fact, Dvořák professed at that time that any significant American music would feature tunes from Native American and African American origins. While this prediction held true for composers like Gershwin and Ives, they were however marginalised – not considered as classical composers due to their reliance on these melodies.
One of the turning points in the book is when Jim takes Emmett’s hokum songs book. These songs were derived from African-American spirituals and field cries. His intention was not for the compositions, but merely for the paper it was written on to use for writing, a sly twist to usual cultural borrowing debates. Reflecting upon Britain’s blues wave in the 1960s, particularly the triumph of artists such as Eric Clapton and The Rolling Stones who surpassed the original creators of the music in success, evokes thoughtful consideration.
“It can be challenging not to admire the accomplishments of the younger generation during those times due to their preference for a particular genre of music. It undoubtedly drew attention to the previously overlooked music within our culture. Big names in the industry such as Lightnin’ Hopkins, BB King, and Muddy Waters may not have gained as much popularity if not for the achievements of the Rolling Stones and Eric Clapton. But is this fair? It’s hard to say. John Coltrane passed away with no wealth while Michael Jackson left this world a multi-millionaire. The most contentious might be Elvis Presley’s use of this genre, even though it’s arguable that his approach wasn’t dishonest.
When asked about Baz Luhrmann’s biographical film about Elvis, he watched it on an aircraft and his concentration wavered throughout. He remembers the film attempting to match Presley’s early years with African-American characters, clandestinely listening to music at juke joints, an aspect which felt slightly insincere. However, he admitted that he would need to view the film once more.
The diminishing of life’s diversity and then declaring them as the standard is what he finds so racist and classist. He recalls an instance in the book, James, where the main character, despite being literate inside his mind but has never jotted anything down before, eventually manages to pen his inaugural words. It’s likened to a scene of birth. He discussed the ongoing struggle between oral tradition and written culture, between books and blues music, murder ballads, eerie tales.
He went on to mention that Socrates held the belief that records should never be kept as it would interfere with critical thinking and reduce the need for recalling information. He recounted the time he was requested by a friend, a Plains Indian from the Cheyenne tribe, to document a ceremony. His friend was living amongst another tribe in a different reservation and was supposed to pass on this knowledge to someone he picked from his tribe. However, no one was willing to relocate to the reservation he was currently dwelling in without the certainty of gaining this knowledge, hence he feared this tradition would be lost and sought help to preserve it.”
I grappled with a dilemma for a couple of years. I feared that I would be accelerating the end of a verbal tradition by documenting it. Yet, I surrendered to the task and handed over all my material and recordings, not retaining any, in an attempt to safeguard it. Despite that, there lingered fears of harm done by my hand. I was raised in a society where written narrative thrives and so, Jim and I both understood the significance of documentary in preserving truth.
In contrast to James, my other book currently gaining attention, Erasure – despite being published 23 years ago – is strikingly different stylistically but echoes a similar rage. The tale, focused on Thelonius “Monk” Ellison, a black intellectual writer, portrays his frustration against ever-present subtle marginalisation amidst the backdrop of his peers gaining recognition through exploiting stereotypes.
Everett reflects, “Now, the situation is even more sinister, getting harder to pinpoint.” He continues, citing an instance wherein a friend, a movie director, after enjoying mild success with a film that wasn’t racially centred, got offered opportunities to create a biopic on a black victim of police brutality. The presumption being, as a black filmmaker, he should naturally be invested in such narratives. Everett claims, it’s alarmingly commonplace and contributes to the perception that historical race issues solely belong to the race they affected.
Over time, his book The Trees, telling a tale of lynching, was remarkably accepted partly because of his black identity. However, he argues, it’s equally relevant to white history as it is black history. He postulates a white author wouldn’t be permitted to write a light-hearted novel on the same subject and get away with it although they could validly pen one about the horrific realities of lynching. After all, he reasons, such a history is common to both races.
Erasure materialised partly as a counter-reaction to works such as Push, Sapphire’s 1996 dialectic novel, which was later adapted into the film Precious, with opinions about it varied from masterpiece to exploitative tragedy. Monk, as a response, composed a parody entitled My Pafology under the pseudonym Stagg R Leigh and handed it to his agent as a subversive jest, encouraging him to have it published, just to highlight the publishers’ predilection for cultural stereotypes. The ironic part is the manuscript fetches a startling price and becomes immensely successful. How did Everett feel when crafting the parody?
He admitted, “It was a monstrous task.”
He didn’t experience any sinful joy, or mischievousness?
“Maybe there was, but maintaining it was tough. However, I learned a valuable lesson that the work, like Push, wasn’t the issue. I didn’t have alternatives other than Push. There’s ample space for diverse literary works in the world. And I’m gratified if anyone is reading. But limiting experiences to a handful and labelling them as representative, that’s truly racist and classist.”
Over the years, many filmmakers had shown interest in adapting Erasure for the silver screen, but Everett persistently declined. What made him entrust Jefferson, a novice director?
“He’s sharp, and I genuinely felt he understood the novel and harboured a desire to create something notable. When I embarked on the journey of writing about 40 years ago, it appeared as if everyone in the movie industry was as old as I am now, making money being their sole motivation. I may be deceived, but now I see many younger individuals, who, of course, need funds for creating dramas, but also aspire to create something unique. They speak about art. My encounter with the industry now feels radically different than before. Some youth-centred work is surfacing in a field dominated by Marvel movies.”
Despite its allure, American Fiction struggles with inconsistencies and noticeably dulls the sharp wit found in Everett’s novel. The academic and critic, Jason England, critically analysed the film in his essay American Fiction and the Wet Eyes of the Sentimentalist, found at defector.com. He notably states: “I am certainly not ignorant of the way Hollywood operates. A film must earn profit which necessitates expanding its potential viewership; concessions are inevitably made to uphold conventions. I am fully cognizant of this fact. As such, I had realistic expectations and even some inherent leniency for American Fiction. Yet, I departed the cinema feeling profoundly affected by its palpable cynicism and evasion. It’s one matter for a film to deviate from its source, but it’s an entirely different issue when it detours so far from the spirit of the original to the point of becoming nothing less than a moral deficiency.”
Has Everett had the opportunity to read this piece?
“No. Of late, I avoid reading reviews as I seldom visit the internet. The film is not a mere repetition of the book; it stands as a unique creation. Regrettably, a commercially appealing film would not preserve the darkness of my novel. On the flip side, it may prove more approachable than my novel in some respects, hence achieving a distinct kind of success. That isn’t entirely negative, and it could even prove beneficial. Possibly, the combined effect of both creations might generate additional positive influence. However, it’s like any form of translation. When my work is translated into German, a new book is fashioned. It’s necessary to tailor ‘My Pafology’ for German readers, meaning it cannot remain completely identical; Google Translate won’t suffice. So that is a novel creation. I can’t downplay the effort required from any translator, mirroring how film stands as another form of translation.”
The beginning of “American Fiction” deals with a delicate subject, as a white student reacts strongly to the title of Flannery O’Connor’s short tale The Artificial N*gger. Monk, protrayed by actor Jeffrey Wright, responds with irritation, reminding the class they are exploring American Southern literature. While the language and ideologies may be old and rough around the edges, he encourages them to grasp these in respect to the era they were produced.
When questioned on the experience of watching a character that mirrors his own persona on the big screen, Everett rejects the idea of any autobiographical links. Despite agreeing that the character shares uncanny similarities with himself, he denies it being a representation of himself. He humorously recalls a recent incident in a bagel shop where he was mistaken for Jeffrey Wright. According to him, if thoughts about him personally creep into readers’ heads while they engage with the book, then he considers it a failure.
The Trees, Percival Everett by Virgil Russell, Dr No, So Much Blue, I Am Not Sidney Poitier, Damned If I Do, Assumption, and Telephone have all been reissued in paperback format by Picador. James is released by Mantle while Erasure comes courtesy of Faber & Faber.