Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Good Lord Bird (and my odd love affair with books about John Brown)

Ever since reading about radical abolitionist John Brown in high school, I have found him to be a fascinating figure.  Clearly (more than) a bit crazy, he was also 'right'; the abominable institution of slavery would not end without a fight.  His capture and execution at Harper's Ferry after raiding a federal armoury probably did more for his cause than anything else he ever attempted because it shone the spotlight of national attention on a national ill.

In high school history class, he was not much more than an anecdote, but since then, whenever I come across something about him, I usually devour it.  The first novel I found about him was Cloudsplitter by Russell Banks.  This was a very serious telling of Brown's story from the point of view of his son, Owen.  It captured his religious fervour, his love for his family, and his embarkation down the failed path to overthrow slavery by force.  It was beautiful and compelling.  I liked it so much that I hiked up Brown Mountain, Owen Brown's final home, in the San Gabriel Mountains near Los Angeles to leave the book for some lucky hiker.

When a dear friend gave me Good Lord Bird by James McBride I was thrilled but a bit confused.  How do you tell the story of John Brown and make it funny?  McBride, however, pulls it off through his incredible narrator and central character, Onion/Henry Shackleford.  McBride, who also wrote the amazing The Color of Water, shows us how a crazy man can somehow possess enough charisma that people will follow him to an assuredly bad end.  It's tragic in its futility, but it's somehow funny to watch a man who is wilfully blind to what lies right in front of him

The great power of the book, however, comes from the way he subtly shows the effects of slavery and racism.  Brown, who has the deepest concern for the liberation of enslaved African Americans, assumes he knows what is best and that they will come running to join him.  He just has to strike the match that will set off the firestorm of their liberation.  At the same time, McBride shows us (subtly again) why oppressed people do not always fight for freedom the way we (those of us who are not in their situation) might think they should or would.  Among his characters are people who are willing to toss everything aside to change their circumstances, but there are others who want to survive or for their families to survive.  Destroying the entire system in which you are oppressed may sound appealing, but it is fraught with unknown risk.  Burning down the prison that cages you while you are still inside it is a scary proposition.

Perhaps the thing that shocked me the most about Good Lord Bird, however, was McBride's humorous look at Frederick Douglass.  I have never seen anything about Douglass that didn't hold him in anything but the highest esteem.  McBride pokes fun at him as something of a pompous man more prone to speeches than action (though McBride's John Brown loves him).

Between the story of Onion and Brown and the look at oppression's side effects, this was a great novel.  My love affair with John Brown books continues.

No comments:

Post a Comment