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James
James is probably the best novel I’ve read in years. Even more, it’s possibly the best American novel of my adulthood.1
James is a perspective on the events of Huckleberry Finn.2 James, whom we know from Twain as “Jim,” flees his enslavement upon receiving a tip that he was to be sold and separated from his family. Scarcely into his flight, he makes contact with another runaway: Huckleberry Finn.3 Like an American Odyssey, the voyage up and down the river bring James and his various compatriots into contact with confidence men, enslaved folk, runaways, slave-catchers, and grifters.
Perhaps what’s most remarkable is that with three small choices, barely more than six sentences, Everett’s James alters the DNA of the respected body of Huckleberry Finn and widens its (already wide) wide audience and deepens its (already deep) impact. Perhaps for this moment of plotting alone, the book earns my recommendation. But it’s not just that the plotting is good or the insights about the philosophy of slavery ore keen, simply put, Everett is a master of characterization and a ferryman of beautiful sentences as well.