James by Percival Everett: A Book Report

With my pencil I wrote myself into being. I wrote myself here.

James is a poignant read both for fans and critics of Huckleberry Finn. The writing style is poetic and philosophical while keeping Twain’s satirical tone and sense of adventure. The fabric of the original story of friendship rising above racism is woven thicker from this riveting shift in point of view. 

The novel begins with an inscription: The Notebook of Daniel Decatur Emmett followed by a collection of handwritten “slave songs.” From here, the book is structured in three parts relying heavily on the three act narrative structure and the buddy adventure/ “On the Road” trope. Huckleberry Finn is narrated in first person with the reader experiencing 1860’s Mississippi through the lens of a twelve year old white boy who describes himself as “lowdown and ornery” and likes to “tell the truth with some stretchers.” There are time gaps in the original narrative, due to Huck’s age and unreliability and instances where James is largely absent with little explanation. Percival Everett wields these gaps to his advantage playfully paying homage to the original and creating a James who is strikingly intelligent, thoughtful, creative, and brave. For example, the novel begins with Huck and James first interaction, except now, instead of Huck playing a trick on James, it is James who is the one with the intellectual power and is in on the joke. This first scene not only establishes James' character but his position as an intellectual superior and disrupter in the novel.

James: The Transformation from a beloved character to a dignified man

Everett introduces a new version of James and more broadly enslaved characters as performing their slave personas, changing themselves, particularly their language and intellect, in front of their masters. One powerful scene illustrates this in chapter two when James and his wife Sadie provide their children with Language Lessons. “These were indispensable. Safe movement throughout the world depended on mastery of language, fluency.” This scene takes a racial stereotype and undercuts it. James teaching his children code switching and hearing the children’s perspective is an effective way to illustrate a  relevant, controversial issue to a modern audience and a reality that remains unchanged. At the climax of the novel, James drops his “slave tongue” in front of a powerful white man and observes: “I had never seen a white man filled with such fear. The remarkable truth, however, was that it was not the pistol, but my language, the fact that I didn’t conform to his expectations, that I could read, that had so disturbed and frightened him.”

The Power of Education:

Everett's use of education as James’ currency is central to the theme of this text. James is a slave who can read, write, and argue philosophy- a super power for the nineteenth century American black man- and he bears the weight of, not only his oppression, but the academic prowess he must keep secret. “At that moment the power of reading made itself clear and real to me. If I could see the words, then no one could control them or what I got from them. They couldn’t even know if I was merely seeing them or reading them, sounding them out or comprehending them. It was a completely private affair and completely free and, therefore, completely subversive.” While at first James loves reading for escapism, what emerges is Everett’s claim that education (and to some extent a dismantling of religious paradigms) is the only true path to freedom. 

The Path to Survival:

James and the other enslaved characters he encounters are challenged each day of their survival to weigh unthinkable moral scruples. Everett propels his narrative forward with these high stakes dilemmas and necessary acts of bravery. Even the notebook and pencil James uses to write his narrative are stolen items, the cost of which were extensive. Similar to Sethe, James' path to survival demands commiting crimes and making choices outside of his moral code in the name of decency, revenge, justice, love, and friendship. He is deeply introspective and thoughtful about his motivations. “I did not look away. I wanted to feel the anger. I was befriending my anger, learning not only how to feel it, but perhaps how to use it.” Everett depicted a man who wrestled with extraordinary moral and philosophical conundrums about his own right to exist with humor, vulnerability, dignity, and at times, ruthlessness.