There’s a moment that may surprise you reading Percival Everett’s novel James, a reimagining of Huck Finn’s Black sidekick and their treacherous journey to freedom. It’s the moment when you take a break from laughing hysterically to realize you’re laughing at a book about slavery. Many writers are afraid to insert levity in stories of tragedy, particularly stories of violent prejudice. But James, which won the National Book Award, shows that to omit joy is to do a disservice to the people who endured those tragedies—people who, despite their circumstances, always found ways to fall in love, have children, create art, and, indeed, laugh.
There’s a lesson in there about how to write, but there’s also one about how to live. Percival is a writer, painter, musician, equestrian, fly fisherman, mathematician, father, husband, and professor. It would all be annoying if I didn’t learn so much from him—chiefly that life is long, arduous, and unfair, but it’s always worth living.
Jefferson, a director and writer, won an Oscar for his screenplay of American Fiction, his adaptation of Everett’s book Erasure