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brown5lh's review against another edition
4.0
Everything and more that I've come to expect from the mind of Richard Wright. Elements of religion, philosophy, art, and the metaphysical...a truly gripping novel that will remain relevant for generations to come.
joshrskinner's review against another edition
5.0
Richard Wright was brilliant, and so is this story. It saddens me how disserviced he was by both the reign of Platonic thought over much of American Christianity and the horrid witness of race relations our nominally Christian nation has historically (and too much currently) embraced.
This is worth reading for entertainment and to look into the mind of one of the greatest American novelists and to be confronted by
This is worth reading for entertainment and to look into the mind of one of the greatest American novelists and to be confronted by
deweylovett's review against another edition
5.0
Holy crap. Zipped through this adrenaline story in a weekend. Every sentence is action. It’s painful and I couldn’t look away. Frustrating in its truth.
erictlee's review against another edition
4.0
The opening pages of this book by one of America’s greatest writers were a shock both to Richard Wright’s agent and publisher. They were so violent and painful to read that the book could not be published when first written in the early 1940s. It has taken some 80 years before the full text can finally appear. And what was the shocking bit? The book opens with the arrest of a Black man accused of a murder he did not commit, and the brutal beatings and abuse he suffers at the hands of white policemen. No wonder the book is being hailed as relevant to our time.
But anyone expecting a realistic story will be disappointed, because Wright has ambitions far beyond telling a story of racial injustice, which he had done before so successfully. As he explains in a long essay at the end of the book, this novella is an attempt to get inside the head of the author’s grandmother who raised him. A deeply religious woman, she lived in a world of her own making as does the main character in this book when he literally goes underground.
An unusual book, painful to read in parts, but intelligent and gripping as well.
But anyone expecting a realistic story will be disappointed, because Wright has ambitions far beyond telling a story of racial injustice, which he had done before so successfully. As he explains in a long essay at the end of the book, this novella is an attempt to get inside the head of the author’s grandmother who raised him. A deeply religious woman, she lived in a world of her own making as does the main character in this book when he literally goes underground.
An unusual book, painful to read in parts, but intelligent and gripping as well.
jclenzi's review against another edition
3.0
I’m certain that I would have liked this more had I not read and admired Native Son so much. Perhaps had I read this first I would feel differently as well.
monkeelino's review against another edition
4.0
I'm three months behind on book reviews and I'm not sure why I'm not throwing in the towel, clicking on some stars, and moving on...
I finished this three months ago. The first part drew me immediately to the extent I didn't take down a single note or underline any passages. And then the second part (we'll call it the underground part) threw me off kilter. It has both a different rhythm and a different type of storytelling. Eventually, this worked for me as a reader, but I was resistant at first and hoping the pace and tension of the first part would return. Two comments Wright makes in the backmatter really helped me frame this story: one comment is about approaching the writing as a type of jazz and the other dealt with his general thoughts about character and story:
I think one of the reasons why this book has been praised is that Wright's characteristic gift for realism forms the foundation, but he raises Fred Daniels's life to that of myth (falsely accused of murder, Fred must abandon his wife just as she's giving birth so he can avoid prison; he is literally forced underground where he goes through a classic and elevating type of transformation). The layers and symbolism is this book are intricately layered for such a short volume, and I was left with a haunted feeling upon finishing.
I finished this three months ago. The first part drew me immediately to the extent I didn't take down a single note or underline any passages. And then the second part (we'll call it the underground part) threw me off kilter. It has both a different rhythm and a different type of storytelling. Eventually, this worked for me as a reader, but I was resistant at first and hoping the pace and tension of the first part would return. Two comments Wright makes in the backmatter really helped me frame this story: one comment is about approaching the writing as a type of jazz and the other dealt with his general thoughts about character and story:
“Well, in a good story, I think, there comes a point where the character is rendered fluid, where, through a combination of events, he is lifted to a point of tension where the author can do anything with him, where everything fits.”For Wright, you had to sort of "break" the character before a story could begin, before the honest possibilities were open. And it's in the surreal underground part that a kind of dreamlike jazz composition leads us through a katabasis.
I think one of the reasons why this book has been praised is that Wright's characteristic gift for realism forms the foundation, but he raises Fred Daniels's life to that of myth (falsely accused of murder, Fred must abandon his wife just as she's giving birth so he can avoid prison; he is literally forced underground where he goes through a classic and elevating type of transformation). The layers and symbolism is this book are intricately layered for such a short volume, and I was left with a haunted feeling upon finishing.
vivekisms's review against another edition
5.0
I was absolutely stunned as I turned the pages and devoured this previously unpublished work of Richard Wright. The Man who Lived Underground is about an innocent black man who gets trapped in double homicide and brutalised by the police force. He is wrongly accused, interrogated for the sake of it, and finally not even entitled to a lawyer to fight his case. This book is set in 1942. Sadly, nothing has changed.
Fred Daniels manages to escape from police custody and enters the sewers, and this is really where the story takes place. He has lost his home, his wife, and his new-born child - all because of his colour and the racism that exists. He is making his way through the sewer questioning life and death, his existence at large, and what will happen to him once he is found by the authorities.
The writing is quick in most parts, verbose in some, but never lets go of the reader. You can see Wright’s touch through and through, but more than that, I also saw a lot of Baldwin in the book. Perhaps Baldwin inspired Wright to write the way he did.
The experience of reading about a man in a sewer is nightmarish, almost allegorical, even magic realism taking on in the prose to some extent. Everything in the sewer takes on a different meaning – from a car sloshing through a puddle, or the scream of a baby, or a shout – it is all different for Fred much like when he exists on the world above.
Wright’s writing cuts to the bone. Empathy flows throughout. There is madness. There is chaos. And it all seems like one big fever dream, an old story told over and over again – when everyday life is taken over by hallucinations in order to make it bearable.
Fred Daniels manages to escape from police custody and enters the sewers, and this is really where the story takes place. He has lost his home, his wife, and his new-born child - all because of his colour and the racism that exists. He is making his way through the sewer questioning life and death, his existence at large, and what will happen to him once he is found by the authorities.
The writing is quick in most parts, verbose in some, but never lets go of the reader. You can see Wright’s touch through and through, but more than that, I also saw a lot of Baldwin in the book. Perhaps Baldwin inspired Wright to write the way he did.
The experience of reading about a man in a sewer is nightmarish, almost allegorical, even magic realism taking on in the prose to some extent. Everything in the sewer takes on a different meaning – from a car sloshing through a puddle, or the scream of a baby, or a shout – it is all different for Fred much like when he exists on the world above.
Wright’s writing cuts to the bone. Empathy flows throughout. There is madness. There is chaos. And it all seems like one big fever dream, an old story told over and over again – when everyday life is taken over by hallucinations in order to make it bearable.
whatshanireads's review against another edition
4.0
This book is devastating. It is so good yet heartbreaking. It puts me in the mind of Ellison's Invisible Man. The book explores the disposability of Blackness and Black people to society at large. It delves into how the system grinds Black people to dust with a capriciousness that is as careless as it is cruel. Highly recommend. 4½ out of 5 stars.
reidob's review against another edition
4.0
A remarkable work from Richard Wright, The Man Who Lived Underground was published as a short story, but until now not in its full form as the novella reviewed here. The parallels between Native Son and this work are striking, in particular the pursuit of a Black man accused of a crime who is forced to feverishly escape his would-be captors. One major difference in this case is that our protagonist is innocent of the crime and is corralled by police on the pretext of needing someone to accuse of murder; pretty much any Black man will do.
At the same time, at least from the perspective of this white man, it is also important not to overemphasize the aspects of racial oppression in Wright's work to the detriment of appreciating his skillful prose and the allegorical nature of both works. Stated another way: Wright takes violence toward Black people in the United States as a given and builds upon that foundation to create stories more vast and meaningful than emphasis on that violence alone would have made possible.
In this volume, Wright (or, rather, his family, posthumously) publishes an essay elucidating his reasons for writing this novella. This is an astonishing piece and, though I can't claim to have understood while reading the novella what he was getting at, the essay makes clear what the roots of his interest in a man so thoroughly disconnected from everyday life, a disconnection that leads to a spiritual awakening.
The basic plot here is simple: a Black man is accused of a murder he did not commit and is tortured by police into signing a false confession. He is thought to be so cowed by his treatment at the hands of the police that he has no will to escape, but escape he does, and takes residence in the sewers beneath the city. In a more mundane story, he would then set about finding ways to survive down there while continuing to elude capture, but that is not what this tale is about. Rather, he digs into the lives of those who live above ground and sees with great clarity that how they live lacks all meaning. The resulting epiphany is more spiritual than religious but, as with all those who bring new realizations to the world, things do not go well for our prophet.
The Man Who Lived Underground is a volume that has too long been absent from our libraries, and a welcome addition to Wright's oeuvre.
At the same time, at least from the perspective of this white man, it is also important not to overemphasize the aspects of racial oppression in Wright's work to the detriment of appreciating his skillful prose and the allegorical nature of both works. Stated another way: Wright takes violence toward Black people in the United States as a given and builds upon that foundation to create stories more vast and meaningful than emphasis on that violence alone would have made possible.
In this volume, Wright (or, rather, his family, posthumously) publishes an essay elucidating his reasons for writing this novella. This is an astonishing piece and, though I can't claim to have understood while reading the novella what he was getting at, the essay makes clear what the roots of his interest in a man so thoroughly disconnected from everyday life, a disconnection that leads to a spiritual awakening.
The basic plot here is simple: a Black man is accused of a murder he did not commit and is tortured by police into signing a false confession. He is thought to be so cowed by his treatment at the hands of the police that he has no will to escape, but escape he does, and takes residence in the sewers beneath the city. In a more mundane story, he would then set about finding ways to survive down there while continuing to elude capture, but that is not what this tale is about. Rather, he digs into the lives of those who live above ground and sees with great clarity that how they live lacks all meaning. The resulting epiphany is more spiritual than religious but, as with all those who bring new realizations to the world, things do not go well for our prophet.
The Man Who Lived Underground is a volume that has too long been absent from our libraries, and a welcome addition to Wright's oeuvre.