Book Review: James by Percival Everett

James by Percival Everett
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

READ ON FOR THE GOOFIEST BOOK REVIEW I'VE EVER WRITTEN. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

You don't know about James without you have read a book by the name of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mr. Mark Twain, but that ain't no matter. This book was made by Mr. Percival Everett, and he stuck to the source material, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth.

Lemme' start with the obvious: James is not Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Once a reader takes this'n inta' consideration, it's a might bit easier to forgive Everett for throwing Twain's source material overboard like one of them pirates in Tom Sawyer's gang. When I begun to read Percival Everett's James, I was expecting a direct copy of t'other novel, Huckleberry Finn. But this'n book done tried something different.

I done realized that if'n you want to really enjoy James, you need to do two things: read Mark Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn cover-to-dangblamed-cover, and then think of James as one of them newfangled "multiverse" stories. It's right true that James starts the same, but it's done told through the eyes of Jim. While Mr. Mark Twain did try to gumption up the character of Jim an' give him some dignity, it warn't a accurate portrayal of slavery. Sometimes, Jim kinda' comes 'cross as a car-i-ca-ture, not a real human (even though he might'n be one of the most noble characters that Mr. Twain done created). T'other book, James, give the reader a more better pitcher of the time period, and we sees what life might've been like for Jim and his family. 'Cuz of this, James might'n be better history than Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - though I warn't sure without doing some more of my dagnabbit history homework.

By and by, though, Mr. Everett's book stretches purty far from Mr. Twain's story. Some parts is the same, but other parts is very durn far from the original tale. It's kinda' like when ya' travel down the Mississippi, but it done branch out into the Ohio River or the Missouri River. 'Tis the same water, but different at the same time. And I found it clear that Mr. Everett is de-fi-nite-ly a genius with'n his writing. At leas' it's clearer to me than the mud on Jackson's Island. That ain't no small accomplishment, no siree.

Since I's a Twain a-fish-i-o-nado who done taught Huckleberry Finn for six years, I had some true hard times appreciatin' James. It's on account of the stretchers that Mr. Everett done explore in his'n novel. But when I steps back and looks at the pitcher from a different angle, I sees that Mr. Everett's somethin' of a genius, moralizin' on characters more'n Aunt Polly done moralize on Sunday church. Even if'n I like Huckleberry Finn more, I knows that James is somethin' special. Mr. Everett is even more clever-er than Tom Sawyer. An' that means somethin' to me, right true.

Others might think different, but there ain't no accounting for taste. At least that's what Tom Sawyer tells me. With'n James, I reckon that Mr. Percival Everett has done created a bona fide masterpiece of heartbreak an' redemption - or somethin' thereabouts. Even if'n you don't love it as much as Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, it's still some durn fine writin' that'll keep ya' thinkin' when you float right down the Mississippi River.

I do believe that my ol' friend, Mr. Mark Twain, would be proud.

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