James

By W. F. Twyman, Jr.

There is never one way to understand the American story. This evening, I take as my stating point a common name of meaning to me. The name is “James.” For all of my life, James has been there in the background of my story. My favorite uncle was named James Twyman. My grandfather was named James Twyman. A distant ancestor, James Twyman (1781 - 1849), manumitted his thirty-seven slaves by will and gave them tools, provisions and money to start a new life in Burlington, Ohio. In the contemporary era, I have met my cousin and author James Twyman.

One name, so many many points of connection to me and the human condition.

The novel, James, by acclaimed author Percival Everett, has captured the attention of the reading world. I am always on the prowl for the Great American Novel. What is the character and essence of America? And can a novelist capture America in fiction? Those are my exacting standards as a reader. The initial reviews of James have been lofty. James has been nominated for various awards — a finalist for the Booker Prize and winner of the Kirkus Prize and the National Book Award for Fiction. And might I add James is a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize.

I am inclined to like James because I loved what Everett revealed in his novel Erasure (2001) which was adopted and turned into the authentic film American Film. (2023) I raved about American Film with my wife and Free Black Thought podcast co-host Michael Bowen. See American Fiction. Real fiction in which I can see myself resonates with me. Someone out there should write a novel or screenplay about coming of age in a southern suburb in the 1970s. Those unwritten stories are part of America as well.

So, why does part of me feel mild reluctance to read James? Let me begin to explain with this short moment from my Book Club this weekend. Towards the end of our conversation about President Jimmy Carter, our tongues loosened and we moved beyond Plains, Georgia. One of my friends remarked how impressed he was with the National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington. D.C. He talked with genuine admiration about the slavery displays and how moving that level of the museum was. I had mixed emotions. Of course, it is good for tourists to learn about slavery but I wanted to know more about the Black American experience at the museum. Blackness is more than slavery, I thought to myself. I asked my friend if they covered free blacks before the Civil War. The question went over his head which meant either he didn’t understand my question, the museum gave short account of antebellum free blacks or he didn’t know that black freedom and black slavery co-existed. Free Blacks in the Family

I have the same feeling as I size up whether to read James. James is the story of Huckleberry Finn as told from the perspective of Jim, a runaway slave. The novel is framed from the standpoint of a former slave which is fine but doesn’t excite me. Way too much attention is paid to slavery in the public square for my taste. So there’s that. There is attention and focus on the “hellscape” of slavery. I’m not sure I’m in the mood. Besides, why do people love oppressed blacks? I am sure James is a stellar reimagining of the Huckleberry Finn story reminiscent of Grendel by novelist John Gardner. Like Everett in James, Gardner reimagines the classic tale of Beowulf from the perspective of the monster, Grendel.

Like Grendel, like James. I suffer from slavery burnout, ladies and gentlemen. I may not read James.

Now, there is another novel James I would love to read. My fifth cousin, Dr. James Edwin Smith III, has lived an incredible life. In fact, I could argue the world itself can be found in his American DNA. Cousin Jimmy or Jim is a direct descendant of James Twyman (1781 - 1849). His paternal great great grandfather so angered his white Twyman family that they refused to bury James in the family grave yard. The decision to emancipate bondsmen and go against family opinion is a circumstance I can relate to.

But Cousin Jim is of more than English immigrant blood.

According to his book Migrations: Our Family’s Immigrations to America, From All Over the World, Jim, my Jim, is a descendant of Tibetans, Siberians, Southeast Asians, Central and Western Asians, North Africans, Spaniards, Mexicans, Italians, Sardinians, Finns, Norwegians, French, Irish, Scottish, European Jews and Africans. So many threads from our American past came together in Jim’s family tree. It is a beautiful thing. Scan Jim’s DNA and what does one see? One sees the remnants of Creek Indians, Free Blacks, Twymans, and Royal Ancestors. Jim is related to Presidents Abraham Lincoln, Benjamin Harrison, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, George Washington, Grover Cleveland, Herbert Hoover and Thomas Jefferson. Jim is a walking, living embodiment of the essence of America.

His family is the stuff of a Great American Novel.

When I first saw Cousin Jim on Ancestry, I perceived a white guy. I learned about his free black ancestry and I changed my perception. Jim was black. At some point, Jim disabused me of my labels. Why was I trying to place Jim in a box? Why indeed? Jim explained to me with the patience of a wise elder that he was a human being.

Conclusion: Cousin Jim taught me that racial labels fail us. Our eyes will betray us. We must respect how people self-identify. We must accept humanity before race. I am honored to call Jim a cousin. And I hope his wisdom about his self-identity is the way of our future. Racial boxes are destined for the dust bin of history.

I may not be an acclaimed novelist like Percival Everett. However, I believe in you and me and a place beyond slave stories of horror and hellscape. Some people love oppressed blacks and thus our present remains haunted. I love loving stories that endure across the ages:

Jim: No, the Twyman family refused to bury James in the family plot because James succumbed to human emotion, human feeling. When he looked in the eyes of his children, he saw his flesh and blood and he behaved as a caring, compassionate man. His love for his children is the best will and testament for our family reunion today, so that we can channel his goodness into our today. — On the Road to Oak Lawn: Truth, Reconciliation and the Twymans, p. 35

A Day in the Life of Jimmy and Diane Jim’s wife, Diane, passed away recently after a long health battle. Her ashes were scattered in the Pacific Ocean near a Hawaiian beach. My sympathies and prayers are with Jim and his American family.

Good evening!