It's actually a very entertaining page-turner set in turn-of-the-century North Carolina about the events leading up to a historic race riot that occurred in 1898. It's character-driven, highly involving, and several times the parallels to what gays are facing today are impossible to ignore.
The attitude of the reconstructionist white townspeople toward the newly freed black population is truly the same as that of the hetero majority in 2009 toward gays today as we fight for our equality.
Chesnutt, himself, was only 1/16th black and could pass as white, but he chose to identify with his black ancestor and the plight of the black community as it began to fight for the dignity the majority takes for granted.
One of the arguments against gays today is that we can "pass" if we choose to, and therefore have all the rights as anyone else. That we have never suffered like the black race. That comparing our current fight for justice is an insult to the black civil rights cause. It is repugnant because we are so abhorrent and morally bereft.
Read the book and see those arguments reflected in the voices of the appalling, yet real, white reconstructionist southerners against their black neighbors.
Blacks, at the time, could be murdered for no reason at all, and with no consequences to the white murderers. Today, and throughout history, the same has been true for gays in much of the world.
Beyond the great parallels to our time, the book is just a thrilling read with one of the best final chapters I have read (next to Moby Dick). Maybe a bit melodramatic, but operatic and believable.
Chesnutt gave up fiction writing because he felt he had not achieved the recognition he deserved. Yet, here I am a century later finding his book a revelation.
Go figure! In this day of "how many hits" and "how many views" and what's hot and what's not every day changing, his experience and my reading his work merits some note.
Maybe my blog goes unnoticed and I don't spend every waking moment trying to promote it, but that doesn't diminish the fact I sit down to write something in it.
Chesnutt sought recognition, according to the introduction. He did everything he could to promote his work. His sales were ultimately weak, and after 3 books, he gave up fiction.
That was a mistake and a good lesson. Who knows where good writing can end up and what "eyes not yet born" may read it.
:-)
