James by Percival Everett: rewriting a classic

Twelve of us gathered at Hanami on 10th March to discuss James by Percival Everett. Pam Toroyan introduced the book by taking us back to its literary ancestor, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, on which it is closely (but not identically) based.

Pam reminded us that Huck Finn was not always the untouchable classic it is now. One early reviewer dismissed it as “trash,” though by the early twentieth century it had found its place as a masterpiece. Everett, she noted, comes to this legacy with considerable weight of his own: a writer decorated with multiple awards, whose work frequently engages with contemporary Black American experience.

James itself gave us plenty to get into. It’s a novel that stretches across history, politics, language, emotions and humour—often all at once. Like its predecessor, it has a picaresque plot with numerous colourful characters, some described with great humour. But this time the story belongs to James—the enslaved man known as Jim in the original.

One of the most talked-about elements was Everett’s big play on language. Here, the enslaved characters speak fluent, standard American English among themselves, but deliberately switch to an unsophisticated Southern patois in front of white people, performing a kind of enforced stupidity. The novel makes it clear why: any visible intelligence would be punished.

This device divided us. Some found it clever and darkly funny; others felt it tipped into something condescending or overdone. A few of us wondered, too, whether even someone as intelligent as James could really have spoken highly educated English. That led us into a broader discussion about how language is strongly linked to social class in most or maybe all societies – something most of us recognised not just from books but from experience. Several people recalled childhoods shaped by a gap between “home” and “school” speech, whether along class lines or the more subtle town-and-country divide (with a faint echo of our recent Melvyn Bragg read hovering in the background).

Nigel observed that the tone of the novel darkens as it goes on, becoming more openly angry. We agreed. The violence escalates, particularly when Huck isn’t there to protect James. The book makes very strong points about slavery and its effects on all concerned – hardly a historical relic, as we noted, but something whose legacy still demands attention.

Another point that struck us was the absence of genuinely “good” white characters. Huck himself, and later Norman, are both presented as good people and they live as white men – but both turn out to have Black parentage. It’s a choice that clearly invites questions, and we spent some time circling around what Everett might be suggesting through it.

In the end, whatever our individual reservations, there was broad agreement: this is an enjoyable, thought-provoking and thoroughly worthwhile read.

Looking ahead, from April, we return to our Wednesday meetings, beginning on the 8th. Next up is Persuasion by Jane Austen, to be introduced by Lyndsay—a change of tone, perhaps, but no doubt just as much to talk about.