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A review by jibraun
Erasure by Percival Everett
challenging
funny
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
After watching American Fiction earlier this year, one of my favorite movies ever, I decided to read the novel from which it was adapted: Erasure. Simply put, the source material is as good as the film, albeit in some different ways -- as is to be expected when thinking of the advantages of drawbacks of each format.
The novel has a similar plot to the film. Thelonious "Monk" Ellison is a hypereducated East Coast black man who writes highbrow novels that no one wants to read nor can understand. He is frustrated that the publishing industry only wants him to write "black" novels when he wants to write obscure retellings of stories from antiquity. Monk is the youngest of three siblings, coming from a family full of doctors, yet somehow still being his father's favorite -- creating stress between Monk and his siblings. However, his father is long since dead, and his mother is progressing rapidly with Alzheimer's, leaving him to figure out what to do financially and practically to take care of her.
Where the novel succeeds over the movie is simple. Percival Everett takes the postmodern conceit and meta narratives to new heights, jumping from the internal musings of Monk about fishing and woodworking to various dialogues of novels that Monk is working on to telling the narrative at the core of the novel. All of this is told in first person narration through Monk, which works like a charm. I am admittedly a sucker for meta narratives, offering a wink to the reader, but I think even with that bias admitted -- Everett succeeds in executing it.
Everett shines at his best when he has Monk fall prey to frustration and a desire for money by writing a parody of "black in the hood" novels and movies by writing "My Pafology" (subsequently changed to "Fuck") under the hilarious pseudonym Stagg R. Leigh (if you don't get the joke, Google "stagger lee"). Unlike the movie, which could not accommodate such a narrative function, we the reader get to read "My Pafology" in its hilarious, parodic glory told from the perspective of South Central denizen and all-around screw-up Van Go Jenkins. Just like in the film, the parody goes over the head of almost everyone reading it, taking it as a serious bildungsroman for black inner-city youth, leading the novel to receive unexpected financial and critical acclaim.
I will admit that the film did make some positive changes from the novel. In the novel, the character arc for a few of the characters is far more somber and vindictive, removing some of the levity of the novel. The film makes those character arcs far more mundane, allowing for the comedy to shine through, particularly as to Monk's brother and the housekeeper. I also found the narrative tangent in NYC (no spoilers) to be completely unrealistic, even in the postmodern meta format, introducing one character that was entirely unbelievable and another that did not need any pages devoted to her. Cord Jefferson did well in ignoring that plot arc.
But regardless, I loved so much of this novel that I can overlook these issues. There were multiple passages that actually made me laugh, a difficult feat for me when reading. Everett found so much realistic humor from the publishing industry and everyday black experience. Just terrific, so I'll end with "Egads, this is a great novel, 5 stars."
The novel has a similar plot to the film. Thelonious "Monk" Ellison is a hypereducated East Coast black man who writes highbrow novels that no one wants to read nor can understand. He is frustrated that the publishing industry only wants him to write "black" novels when he wants to write obscure retellings of stories from antiquity. Monk is the youngest of three siblings, coming from a family full of doctors, yet somehow still being his father's favorite -- creating stress between Monk and his siblings. However, his father is long since dead, and his mother is progressing rapidly with Alzheimer's, leaving him to figure out what to do financially and practically to take care of her.
Where the novel succeeds over the movie is simple. Percival Everett takes the postmodern conceit and meta narratives to new heights, jumping from the internal musings of Monk about fishing and woodworking to various dialogues of novels that Monk is working on to telling the narrative at the core of the novel. All of this is told in first person narration through Monk, which works like a charm. I am admittedly a sucker for meta narratives, offering a wink to the reader, but I think even with that bias admitted -- Everett succeeds in executing it.
Everett shines at his best when he has Monk fall prey to frustration and a desire for money by writing a parody of "black in the hood" novels and movies by writing "My Pafology" (subsequently changed to "Fuck") under the hilarious pseudonym Stagg R. Leigh (if you don't get the joke, Google "stagger lee"). Unlike the movie, which could not accommodate such a narrative function, we the reader get to read "My Pafology" in its hilarious, parodic glory told from the perspective of South Central denizen and all-around screw-up Van Go Jenkins. Just like in the film, the parody goes over the head of almost everyone reading it, taking it as a serious bildungsroman for black inner-city youth, leading the novel to receive unexpected financial and critical acclaim.
I will admit that the film did make some positive changes from the novel. In the novel, the character arc for a few of the characters is far more somber and vindictive, removing some of the levity of the novel. The film makes those character arcs far more mundane, allowing for the comedy to shine through, particularly as to Monk's brother and the housekeeper. I also found the narrative tangent in NYC (no spoilers) to be completely unrealistic, even in the postmodern meta format, introducing one character that was entirely unbelievable and another that did not need any pages devoted to her. Cord Jefferson did well in ignoring that plot arc.
But regardless, I loved so much of this novel that I can overlook these issues. There were multiple passages that actually made me laugh, a difficult feat for me when reading. Everett found so much realistic humor from the publishing industry and everyday black experience. Just terrific, so I'll end with "Egads, this is a great novel, 5 stars."