Showing posts with label Ishmael Reed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ishmael Reed. Show all posts

Monday, July 8, 2024

Book Review


The Last Days of Louisiana Red

by Ishmael Reed

     There is a chapter in Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra portraying a tightrope walker. The tightrope walk is an attempt the man makes to leave the commonplace behind, to explore new possibilities, to see new lands, to expand the parameters of life, to move on to something better...a higher state of existence. However, below the tightrope is the audience, made up of the masses of the narrow-minded, the simple folk, the ordinary citizens, the littlepeople, the flies of the marketplace as Nietzsche calls them. They aspire towards nothing but mediocrity and the maintenance of the status quo. These people resent the tightrope walker’s attempt at finding a new way of life, so halfway through the stunt, they pull him down from the rope so that he dies in the fall.

Ishmael Reed, in his novel The Last Days of Louisiana Red, transplants this dilemma to a different context. He applies it to the African-American community in Oakland during the 1970s where the politics of the New Left, Black Power, and the feminist movement are in full swing. I don’t know if Reed consciously borrowed the allegory of the tightrope walker from Nietzsche or not (probably not), but it does serve as a legitimate point of comparison. Ed Yellings, the businessman who starts the Gumbo Works business, can easily replace the tightrope walker; Ed Yellings gets murdered early in the book, but as it is, he stands in for the upwardly mobile element of the African-American community in the post Civil Rights Movement era. He represents the builders and founders of an African-American economic class that is self-deterministic and independent of white America. And s the envious mediocrities of Nietzsche’s town, the ones who kill the tightrope walker, correspond to the Moochers, Reed’s portrayal of the radicals and activists, some of which come from privileged backgrounds, who refuse to build a better society and instead insist on simultaneously destroying the society that exists while demanding that everything be given to them because they are an oppressed minority. This conflict might sound shocking to younger readers who weren’t alive in the 1970s, especially considering it is being articulated by Ishmael Reed, an African-American author, but he is addressing a real social problem with detrimental consequences in the real world.

Ed Yellings’ Gumbo Works is an instant success. The gumbo is sold in a restaurant and manufactured in a factory but little is said about these establishments. This lack of detail is, I think, one of the many flaws in the novel. The business is actually a front for a secret voodoo operation which involves the defeat of Louisiana Red who is not actually a character but more like a spirit of sorts that brings negative energy into the African-American community. Ed Yellings becomes a millionaire and raises a family of four children in a mansion. Wolf grows up to be a business man, following in his father’s footsteps in preparation to take over the company. Street is a Black Power-type radical and criminal who is obviously a caricature of Eldridge Cleaver. The passage about Street committing murder then fleeing to Algeria where he is given a villa free of charge by the government is lifted directly from that Black Panther Party leader’s life. Sister barely figures into the story but probably represents the Back to Africa ideal of the 1970s since her clothes are African-inspired and she associates with a Nigerian friend. Minnie is the one who plays the most prominent role in the story. Based on Cab Calloway’s classic jive anthem “Minnie the Moocher”, she is a prominent member of the Moochers, but she falls out of favor with them because she shows up at rallies to give speeches about ontology and epistemology and other pseudo-intellectual crap that puts people to sleep. She represents the feminist element of the radical Left and insists she is entitled to take over Gumbo Works even though she has no knowledge of business. The inclusion of all these representatives in one family is of symbolic importance. Not only do African-American people bond by colloquially referring to each other as Sister and Brother, but but the idea of the community as an extension of the family makes Reed’s whole point more clear. He is depicting the African-American community as a family which is supposed to be closely knit and supportive of each other despite their individual differences yet at the same time he is showing how this family is one that is dysfunctional.

Ed Yellings gets assassinated, his factory gets burned down, and the two brothers shoot each other while Minnie insists that she inherit everything her father left behind. This is not the way families are supposed to work.

So far it sounds like a lot of interesting and legitimate ideas are introduced into the story. And it is true, a lot of them are interesting and legitimate and there is an abundance of them. A lot of them barely go anywhere after being introduced though. Sister is the easiest example of this as she only makes two brief appearances and doesn’t contribute in any significant way to anything that happens. Street and Wolf are not developed much more as characters either. Street’s only purpose in the book seems to be for the sake of mocking Eldridge Cleaver without mentioning him by name. Some of the supporting characters actually do a lot more than the main members of the family. Nanny, a woman from Louisiana, gets hired to raise the family but her ulterior motive is to groom Minnie for the sake of disrupting Gumbo Works. Nanny is a representation of the old, southern African-American way of life that the urban professional class wants to leave behind. She is actually a practitioner of voodoo and intends to spread the chaos of Louisiana Red through the Oakland Black community.

Nanny’s opposition is Papa LaBas, a houngan who is brought in to replace Ed Yellings as head of the Gumbo Works corporation. The two are engaged in a magical combat that is an updated version of the voodoo war between Doc John and Marie Laveau. The history and folklore surrounding those two legendary figures from New Orleans is sufficiently explained in one chapter. You might remember Papa LaBas as a catalyst of the action in Ishmael Reed’s previous, and far superior novel, Mumbo Jumbo. Aside from running the company, his most memorable part is when he gives Minnie a marsh and misogynistic lecture about how Black women should stay in their traditional places. His twisted logic is that women are already powerful because they provide men with sex, something which makes men obedient and submissive. I suppose that line of reasoning works if you are the type of sex-obsessed man who thinks with the wrong head, but for those of us with a more diverse range of interests, it comes off as a rather infantile view of sexuality and power.

The author’s misogyny is extreme, even by 1970s standards yet it is totally in line with what a lot of African-American men were thinking at that time. Black hyper-masculinity and sexual potency were big components of the Black Power movement and those were the progressives of their time. Read up on the Black Panther’s approach to women and sexuality if you don’t believe me. One Black Panther, I forget who, famously said, “The only place for Black women in the Revolution is on their backs.” The more conservative members of the Black community then, as represented in this story, were even more traditional and domineering in their approach to sex and gender politics.

By far, the most interesting characters are Kingfish and Elder, representatives of the lumpenproletariate who Reed despises. These two clownish characters refuse to work and survive by collecting welfare and committing petty crimes like stealing, burglary, scamming, and begging. They are obviously capable of being useful but refuse to indulge in thing like employment, instead paying for beer and weed by swiping tips off the tables in restaurants. “Owning a business is something that Black people don’t do,” says one of them. This is the type of attitude Ishmael Reed is addressing in this novel in an attempt at correcting it for the sake of his people. Kingfish and Elder stand out here because they are the most direct and clear criticism offered up by Reed and they work well as comic relief.

The least successful character is Chorus, a man who acts as the chorus of the story, explaining what is happening and what is yet to come. He provides counter-narratives about Isis and Osiris, the Egyptian deities, and Antigone, the Greek daughter of Oedipus. These plots correspond to what is happening with Minnie, Ed Yellings, and Papa LaBas. But the stories are confusing and poorly narrated. The purpose of a dramatic chorus is to clarify a story, but in this case Chorus muddles the narrative to the point where skipping these chapters might actually make the book easier to read.

I am wondering if this novel was originally intended to be a play written for theatrical production. The inclusion of Chorus, as well as a scene in a theater where Minnie heckles the performers (sound familiar Leftist millennial students at Berkeley?) are obvious references to the theater. But the whole story is told through dialogue the way a stage performance would be. Even the assassination, the shootings, and the fire at the factory are explained through conversation rather than shown as part of the narrative. This might have been conceived of as a play but written as a novel for some reason I can’t comprehend.

The aforementioned lack of detail is a real weakness. As previously mentioned, the violence and the fire are relayed to the audience by speech. There is also no description of the restaurant or the factory. Even worse, for a book about voodoo, it is disappointing that the actual rites and ceremonies are not described. Rather than having these things talked about in casual conversation, actually showing them visually bulks up the writing, fills in the blank spaces, and makes the story more complete. It allows the audience to experience these events emotionally and creates depth by drawing us into the environment and the action. If the characters only talk about these things than we just move on to the next page without really connecting with them in our imagination.

The other big problem is that Reed introduces too many ideas but never follows through on them. The different characters all represent different aspects of the African-American community but they are little more than hollow receptacles of ideas. What they symbolize is obvious but beyond the symbolism they have no life of their own. With such underdeveloped characters and themes, it is hard to tell if Ishmael Reed is being fair in his critique or not. You can find plenty of things to criticize in the Black bourgeoisie, the Back to Africa ideal, the gangster, the Black Power movement, and the feminists but there are a lot of things those people got right too. By not addressing all sides of these issues, the author does a disservice to his claims by making his criticism look shallow, uninformed, and rudimentary.

The Last Days of Louisiana Red is the follow up novel to Ishmael Reed’s most celebrated work Mumbo Jumbo, a novel that deserves all the praise it gets. The main idea of that book is that if white people stand back and give African-American people enough space then their culture will grow and thrive. I think the main idea of The Last Days of Louisiana Red is that, now that Black people have sufficient space to grow and thrive, they have to deal with some problems internal to the Black community. Notice how prominent a role the white people play in Mumbo Jumbo and how marginal the white people are in Louisiana Red. Reed has progressed to a new set of parameters here. But this latter novel is less successful because he introduces too much information into those parameters. It is like a chef making a pot of gumbo and using every ingredient he finds in the kitchen so that no individual flavor stands out and whatever is there in the pot doesn’t blend in with everything else. Reed could have left a lot of the content out to give more room for the important ideas to take hold or he could have expanded the novel to three times its length to fully develop everything he introduces. Otherwise, he does raise a legitimate issue, that of some members of the African-American community working against its greater interests. even if Some of his criticisms, particularly of feminism, are not entirely justified. I like to think that Reed is too good an author to write this kind of book since he certainly showed what he is capable of in Mumbo Jumbo, but in comparison this just ends up being another novel that doesn’t live up to its potential. 


 

Thursday, August 25, 2022

Book Review


Mumbo Jumbo

by Ishmael Reed

     What if the battle between good and evil came down to a conflict between those who are too uptight to dance and those who are free enough to dance? Recasting the oldest conflict nown to humanity in these terms is what Ishmael Reed does in his novel Mumbo Jumbo. This conspiracy theory novel digs down into the roots of Western and African culture, extending all the way back to ancient Egypt and the battle between Osiris and Set. But you don’t need to believe in conspiracy theories, Egyptian mythology, or other such “mumbo jumbo” to get what Reed is saying in this somewhat allegorical story.

The setting is 1920 in New York City, the time of Prohibition, the Jazz Age, and the Harlem Renaissance. New dance crazes are taking off in popularity and this is causing panic in some sectors of the white society who think of it as an outbreak of a disease or pandemic. Certainly this plague sweeping across America is more exciting than COVID-19. Two Vodun houngans, Papa LaBas and Black Herman, see the outbreak in another light; they see it as an opportunity to allow loas from the otherworld to enter into America since they believe that dancing is a result of possession by spirits. At a rent party. The two houngans get into a discussion with Abdul Hamid, the leader of a new religious sect caled the Atonists. In opposition to the Vodun movement fostered by the others, Abdul Hamid represents order, discipline, and strict morality. This conflict between Vodun and the Atonists represent two sides of the African-American soul. One side is steeped in magic and African traditions brought over by slaves to the Americas, and the other side is the conservative religious line that runs through Marcus Garvey’s UNIA, the Moorish Science Temple of Noble Drew Ali, the Black Israelites, and the Nation of Islam.

Whats gets revealed as the story progresses is that Abdul Hamid is secretly working for an ancient secret society called the Wallflower Order. (Get it? A “wallflower” is someone who goes to a dance but instead of participating, srands by the wall and watches.) Thw Wallflower Order is also employing Hinckle Von Vampton, a white O.G. grand master of the original Knights Templar. How he managed to survive from the 14th century up until the 1920s is never addressed, but this is a story involving magic and the occult so just let it go at that. Von Vampton is the editor of a sleazy tabloid newspaper and he is searching for the Android, an African-American spokesperson who will say what the Templars and Wallflower Order want him to say. Their mission is to control African-American people by preventing them from dancing.

There are other subplots and subtexts in this short novel. The most prominent involves another secret society called the Mu’tafikah, a gang that is plotting to steal indigenous art from a mueseum and ship it back to their countries of origin. Reed is addressing the fact that when you look at “primitive” art in the Metropolitan Museum of Art or other galleries, you are, in fact, looking at stolen property. Such high culture is a result of the colonial looting of artifacts from cultures that did not want to give them up. Some of them were made as sacred objects that served as means to ensure social cohesion in tribal societies. They weren’t intended to be gewgaws for rich white people who don’t even understand what they mean in the context of the societies that produced them. What Reed does in this novel is bring to light the ways in which white colonialists decimated the societies of the people they conquered and enslaved. The supposed superiority of white civilization is not built on the stable foundation of nobility and ethics the way some would want us to believe.

But the tone of Mumbo Jumbo is not bitter. In fact, it is barely even hostile. The concern of the Knights Templar is that if the dance crazes continue to flourish in the African-American community, then white culture will lose its purity and die out. But the response from Papa LaBas and Black Herman is not to destroy white culture. Actually they are solely concerned with creativity; they want to create a vibrant, life-affirming culture that is a unique and vital life source for the people of America. There is nothing destructive about it at all. And they don’t want to simply revive the old traditions of Vodun; they want to reinvigorate them to become an authentic American idiom of its own. Ishmael Reed’s message is that everything will be alright if African-American people are given the space to be themselves and live lives that are authentically their own.

The novel climaxes when the two houngans crash a party sponsored by the Wallflower Order in a rich woman’s mansion. It is there that Black Herman gives an account of ancient Egypt that starts with Osiris teaching the world how to dance and play music, while his envious brother Set tries to make everybody logical and unemotional. The teachings of Set eventually reach Moses who Reed portrays as a false prophet. These beliefs are then passed on to the Wallflower Order, the Knights Templar, and up to the Atonists of Abdul Hamid in the 1920s. If you read the Egyptian mythology passage carfeully, you will find parallels between the ancient Egyptians and the story of these New Yorkers in the Harlem of the 1920s. Scholars of history, theology, and mythology might be quick to point out that Reed’s portrayal of Egypt and Moses are not accurate at all, but in this way, Reed is reiterating his point that African-American people do not need to remain obedient to their traditions; they can reinvent and recreate their mythologies, religions, and culture to suit the needs of their times. That is how cultures are renewed and kept alive. In a Hegelian sense, this conflict between tradition and innovation is necessary to keep the social praxis thriving.

Ishmael Reed has certainly written an interesting novel with a unique set of ideas. The biggest problem with it is that the plot mostly moves along through dialogue and conversation. It is mostly people talking to each other. Some people will hate me for saying so, but I didn’t like James Baldwin’s Another Country for the same reason. But Reed’s characters do tell stories and exchange interesting ideas. It is just that a little more action and activity would have served the story well. The book is all about a plague of dancing but there is very little dancing that happens as the plot progresses. That type of descriptive action would have brought a lot more life into the narrative. Also, there is a small amount of word play and punning that Reed does well, but he could have done a lot more of it. Despite these flaws, this novel is still definitely worth reading because it expresses such an interesting range of ideas and a legitimate critique of American society.

Mumbo Jumbo is unique in another way. Written in the early 1970s, Ishamel Reed saw a connecting thread between the 1960s with its Civil Rights and Black Power movements, and the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s. He saw both eras as times of renewal and creativity, times for Black Americans to build on and reconstruct their identity. In this way, Mumbo Jumbo is a celebratory and optimistic novel. Maybe we are now living in a time when this kind of optimism and rebirth could become useful again. 


 

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