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A review by smart_as_paint
James by Percival Everett
5.0
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was the first classic I ever loved. It taught me to laugh. And showed me how to lie. Huck was the kind of rascal I wanted to be. Good enough to make it through another day. It became a pillar of my perjurous youth. I reread the story of Huck and Jim yearly. I visited Hannibal Missouri and the Twain house in Hartford. All this to say, if anyone has reason to be defensive over changes an author might make to the original story, it's me.
But James doesn't bother me. Quite the opposite. It took 50 pages for me to realize that Twain's original text lied just as much as Huck did. The glass shattered and now I'm left with the realization that my beloved childhood story was (extremely charitable description here) incomplete. I will never read Huck Finn the same way again. I likely will never read Huck Finn again. I just don't see a reason.
But James doesn't bother me. Quite the opposite. It took 50 pages for me to realize that Twain's original text lied just as much as Huck did. The glass shattered and now I'm left with the realization that my beloved childhood story was (extremely charitable description here) incomplete. I will never read Huck Finn the same way again. I likely will never read Huck Finn again. I just don't see a reason.