2/23/2008

In Retrospect: Dennis Lehane on "Clockers"


The following post from award winning novelist Dennis Lehane comes to us via NBCC member Mark Athitakis, who is curating the In Retrospect series look back at Richard Price's 1992 NBCC fiction finalist "Clockers," Stay tuned as Critical Mass will also post an in-depth interview with Price.

I was in graduate school when Clockers came out. It was right at this point that I was growing disillusioned with where a lot of (though, by no means all) American literature seemed to be heading. It felt as if so many of the alleged "literary" works being produced at that time were excessively insular, navel-gazing affairs, more often than not centered upon some disaffected, overly verbose young asshole or his/her late-middle-aged counterpart, an academic of some sort having an affair with a student. The third type of book that predominated was the "homage," which involved grafting the plot of a Shakespeare play or some similarly pantheonic work over a contemporary setting, thereby proving the writer had read his/her classics and was therefore worthy of our attention and esteem but also wholly overlooking the small fact that he/she was too devoid of originality to tell a story that he/she had actually, you know, created.

And then came Clockers. Like a grenade going off in the corner of a foxhole. It just rattled me to my core. Reading it, I remember feeling, This--this, right here--is literature. This is what it's supposed to do. It's supposed to go out into a part of the world or a part of the heart where few dare venture and return with a testament. And that's what it did. This was America in the early `90s, made all the more shocking because no one had thought to write about it before even though the crack epidemic had been going on for half a decade. When I finished it, I realized that some among the intellegentsia would dismiss it as a "crime" novel, and still others would dismiss it because it didn't do anything original with form (as in, you didn't catch Price WRITING enough) and still others, though they could never admit it even to themselves, nevermind at a cocktail party, wouldn't like it because it concerned the urban poor in general and blacks in particular. And that is when I decided I didn't want to belong anymore to any group or general sensibility that could fail to recognize one of the authentic Great American Novels when it was staring them in the face. And that, ultimately, is what Clockers has always been to me--one of the few GANs in the North American canon.

--Dennis Lehane is the author of A Drink Before the War, which won the Shamus Award for Best First Novel; Darkness, Take My Hand; Sacred; Gone, Baby, Gone; Prayers for Rain, and the New York Times bestsellers Mystic River and Shutter Island. His most recent book is Coronado, a collection of stories.

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Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's a kind of revisionism to view dialect writing as a mark of authenticity when in fact it was a style expected of black authors, a form of accommodationism perhaps to white tastes. By 1934 when this book (which I haven't read) was published, dialect was anachronistic and she was criticized on that basis by Richard Wright, a leftist radical who had bigger fish to fry than humanizing his black characters for white readers. She was a conservative whose politics, though well-known to black scholars, have been kept under wraps by everyone from David Levering Lewis to biographer Valerie Boyd.

Ishmael Reed has written that she admired Trujillo and supported the US occupations of Haiti and the Dominican Republic, but Junot Diaz is more interested in pretending that someone like JFK and not Zora, was "cursed" by his support for Trujillo and that "white history" has protected us from the truth: "Don't worry, when you have kids, they won't know the U.S. occupied Iraq either."

If you read ZNH's letter to Fanny Hurst dated Jan. or Feb. of 1937, she says something like "You won't believe what's happening here," and editor Carla Kaplan speculates that it may have something to do with the labor unrest that preceded the "Caribbean genocide" which happened in Oct. of that year and is mentioned in the Diaz and I believe the Danticat books, but so far there's been nothing published about it for the average reader.

W.E.B. Du Bois was born in predominantly white Great Barrington, Mass. and didn't speak in authentic dialect, and neither did James Weldon Johnson, ZNH's Florida landsman. The code-switching in "Oscar Wao" is not an African American dialect, it's hip-hop Spanlish. One of the main points of Louis Chude-Sokei's book about Bert Williams is that he not only had a reason for wearing the burnt-cork minstrel mask well beyond its due date, but that he mastered many regional varieties of black dialect, a process he compared to learning a foreign language for somebody like him, born in the Caribbean. The dialect was a form of masking in a process described as "double-assimilation."

2007 might have been the year of Caribbean-born major book award nominee: Rampersad, Diaz, and Danticat. There's also Bliss Broyard, whose father, Anatole Broyard, wrote about such subjects as "black authenticity" and "hip," at a time and in a manner that no white writer could have (before Frantz Fanon and Norman Mailer, respectively, and decades before Stanley Crouch and John Leland respectively), however, that doesn't mean he was black or African American (which, in my opinion, is a more specific term because it generally describes a culture, rather than a race).

Arnold Rampersad spent his first twenty-four years on a small island three miles off the northeastern coast of Venezuela, and although I know his nationality, he doesn't speak in any Trinidadian accent I recognize and I'd be hard-pressed to describe his race or ethnicity (as depicted in V.S. Naipaul's essay, "Power?" which describes the pre-independence expectations of four groups of Trinidadian h.s. students approximately Mr. Rampersad's age: white, black, East Indian, and coloured (mulatto).

The difference between the "diversity double" of Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith reaching the Super Bowl, and Jamie Foxx becomig the first African American double-Oscar nominee, depends on your opinion of his acting performance in "Collateral." His excellent performance in "Ray" notwithstanding, celebrity biopics for black actors seem by definition racially defined roles, like Marian Anderson's debut performance at the Met in the role of a gypsy, Ulrica, in Verdi's Masked Ball. That kind of racial verisimilitude is no longer required of women in opera, however, it might be a little trickier for leading males in opera.

So in my opinion, authentic dialect for writers is just as restrictive as racially-defined roles for actors. The main character in "My Jim" by Nancy Rawles is not speaking in an "authentic" dialect. For example, she scrupulously avoids the invariant be (and bees), she alludes to the "river god" in T.S. Eliot and Lionel Trilling's 1948 review, etc.

7:48 PM  
Blogger Mark Sullivan said...

I remember reading Richard Price's Clockers for the first time. I'd spent the prior three years covering the crack epidemic in southern California and I was stunned. Richard had not just dug beneath the surface, he'd built a mine with shafts that took the reader deep into the underworld of the modern drug culture. The language was spare, sharp and mordantly funny. The story was as multi-faceted as any Dickens novel. I was blown away. A few years later I got to spend a few days with Richard. He was unpretentious, unimpressed with himself and wildly intelligent and hilarious. Great book. Great guy.

11:36 AM  

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