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A review by floodfish
Juneteenth by Ralph Ellison
4.0
If you like Ralph Ellison’s writing and worldview as much as I do, you should definitely read this. It’s a fever dream of the USA in the first half of the 20th Century, reveling in explorations of sexuality, politics, race, religion, pop culture, childhood, identity, memory, and nature. It veers between extreme naturalism and allegorical farce. (I think it might be what they call "modernism" (DH Lawrence, James Joyce, WG Sebold) but I never studied literature that way so I dunno?)
Like some other work of Ellison’s it vividly demonstrates the ridiculousness of powerful institutions and traditions, but also their value and utility; that it's all bullshit but it's also all so important. And like Invisible Man, it’s as much the story of some messed-up individuals’ identity journeys as it is about “race” or “America”.
But be prepared for a very bumpy ride. It took me 8 months to read, and it’s not a very long book; nor am I a particularly slow reader. (Big thanks to the Brooklyn Public Library for their liberal renewal policy.)
Some of the slowness was fine and good. There’s some deeply polished writing here, with a lot to savor in each phrase. And quite a lot of the book is speech (whether inner or outer) and seems almost made to be read aloud. I often had to slow down my reading to speaking speed. I even read some of it aloud (at home, alone), and that really worked. If I “read” it again, I might try the audiobook.
While it’s often unclear exactly what's happening in the narrative, the telling is beautiful and powerful. At a certain point, I stopped trying to make all the pieces add up and just let it wash over me. Clarity may be possible here, but it’s perhaps not worth the labor. It doesn’t feel quite right to call it stream of consciousness though, because each sentence seems so carefully constructed.
The big problem is that, as a novel, it’s a disaster. The whole is significantly less than the sum of the parts. I have trouble believing that this is the best book that could be decocted from the raw materials. (Though I haven't tried to read Three Days Before the Shooting yet.) Nearly all the parts are good, and many are jaw-droppingly amazing. But the assemblage is a mess. Disjointed, uneven, poorly sectioned and distributed, and just a burden to wade through. I really wish it wasn’t half in italics, that quote marks were deployed more often, that chapter and section breaks were more frequent. Maybe even invasively signpost it bit (e.g. “at this point, we assume the author intended a lengthy story about X, which takes us from what you just read to the next part”). Basically the editing is abysmal, and makes this book a burden and a chore.
Like some other work of Ellison’s it vividly demonstrates the ridiculousness of powerful institutions and traditions, but also their value and utility; that it's all bullshit but it's also all so important. And like Invisible Man, it’s as much the story of some messed-up individuals’ identity journeys as it is about “race” or “America”.
But be prepared for a very bumpy ride. It took me 8 months to read, and it’s not a very long book; nor am I a particularly slow reader. (Big thanks to the Brooklyn Public Library for their liberal renewal policy.)
Some of the slowness was fine and good. There’s some deeply polished writing here, with a lot to savor in each phrase. And quite a lot of the book is speech (whether inner or outer) and seems almost made to be read aloud. I often had to slow down my reading to speaking speed. I even read some of it aloud (at home, alone), and that really worked. If I “read” it again, I might try the audiobook.
While it’s often unclear exactly what's happening in the narrative, the telling is beautiful and powerful. At a certain point, I stopped trying to make all the pieces add up and just let it wash over me. Clarity may be possible here, but it’s perhaps not worth the labor. It doesn’t feel quite right to call it stream of consciousness though, because each sentence seems so carefully constructed.
The big problem is that, as a novel, it’s a disaster. The whole is significantly less than the sum of the parts. I have trouble believing that this is the best book that could be decocted from the raw materials. (Though I haven't tried to read Three Days Before the Shooting yet.) Nearly all the parts are good, and many are jaw-droppingly amazing. But the assemblage is a mess. Disjointed, uneven, poorly sectioned and distributed, and just a burden to wade through. I really wish it wasn’t half in italics, that quote marks were deployed more often, that chapter and section breaks were more frequent. Maybe even invasively signpost it bit (e.g. “at this point, we assume the author intended a lengthy story about X, which takes us from what you just read to the next part”). Basically the editing is abysmal, and makes this book a burden and a chore.