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Summary
Summary
J. Sutter is a bonafide junketeer--a freelance writer, travelling from city to city, hungry for free meals and the discarded sales receipts of others to claim on his expense account. Travelling into the backwoods of West Virginia to write a piece on the unveiling of the new John Henry postage stamp and the ensuing John Henry Days festival, J. continues his nearly record-setting, three-month junket binge. But when he begins to choke on a piece of prime rib at a press dinner, shadows from the past are summoned forth and he leaves the mountain a changed man. Colson Whitehead is the author of the critically acclaimed, QPB New Voices Award-winning novel, The Intuitionist. Narrated by Peter Jay Fernandez, John Henry Days is both an ingenious retelling of the American legend of John Henry and a fascinating look into the world of contemporary journalism.
Author Notes
Colson Whitehead was born on November 6, 1969. He graduated from Harvard College and worked at the Village Voice writing reviews of television, books, and music.
His first novel, The Intuitionist, won the Quality Paperback Book Club's New Voices Award. His other books include The Colossus of New York, Sag Harbor, and Zone One. He won the Young Lions Fiction Award and the Anisfield-Wolf Book Award for John Henry Days, the PEN/Oakland Award for Apex Hides the Hurt, and the National Book Award for fiction and the Pulitzer Prize for fiction for The Underground Railroad.
His reviews, essays, and fiction have appeared in numerous publications including the New York Times, The New Yorker, New York Magazine, Harper's and Granta. He has received a MacArthur Fellowship, a Whiting Writers Award, and a fellowship at the Cullman Center for Scholars and Writers.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (5)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Death knells toll alike at the dawn of the machine age and the digital age, proclaiming an exhausted general collapse in this impressive, multilayered second novel by Whitehead (The Intuitionist). Seizing on the story of American folk hero John Henry, the black railroad worker who beat a steam drill in a one-on-one contest and died in the act, Whitehead juxtaposes it with the soulless saga of 21st-century freelance writer J. Sutter, member of a junketeering tribe whose mores and speech are rendered with anthropological enthusiasm. J. and his fellow junketeers notably Dave Brown, a former gonzo Rolling Stone journalist whose best days were in the late '60s, and jittery One Eye, whose paranoia infects J. descend on Talcott, W.Va., John Henry's supposed resting ground, to report on the U.S. Postal Service's release of a commemorative John Henry stamp. They coincide there with Pamela Street, the daughter of a deceased John Henry obsessive who opened a mad private museum in Harlem to celebrate the man, and Alphonse Miggs, a collector specializing in train stamps, whose secret agenda involves his newly purchased pistol. The debased countercultural cynicism of the junketeers, J.'s compulsive collection of factoids and receipts to fuel the print media machine, and the warped nostalgic longings of Pamela and Alphonse are funneled into a tornado-like narrative storm, bits and pieces of the John Henry myth spinning in the updraft. Whitehead (recipient of a 2000 Whiting Writers' Award) has the early DeLillo's sense for the sinister underside of Americana, combined with historical consciousness of the African-American middle-class in the post-civil rights era. Smart, learned and soaringly ambitious, his second novel consolidates his position as one of the leading writers of serious fiction of his generation. (May 15) Forecast: Strong reviews, word-of-mouth, a national reading tour and comparisons to DeLillo, Jonathan Franzen and other writers of novels on the large scale (perhaps by the junketeer manufacturers of buzz Whitehead captures so ably but that's only appropriate) will do much for this important, deserving work. (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Booklist Review
Whitehead's accomplished debut, The Intuitionist (1998), earned him a Whiting Writers' Award, and he now presents an even more sagacious tale, an inventive, funny, and bittersweet inquiry into the significance of folk hero John Henry. An African American rail worker who allegedly triumphed over a steam-powered drill in a contest of man against machine only to die on the spot in a dramatic foreshadowing of the impact of the Industrial Revolution, Henry is the subject of a 1996 commemorative stamp that is about to be unveiled at an elaborate celebration in Talcott, West Virginia. A gaggle of sharp-tongued, mercenary New York hacks are on the scene, including J. Sutter. The only black writer present, he is staging a contest of his own by going for a record of back-to-back press junkets. Also in attendance is Pamela Street, whose late father obsessively collected John Henry memorabilia. Looping back in time, Whitehead brings John Henry himself into the mix, as well as an intriguing set of characters inspired by his story, including the creator of "The Ballad of John Henry" and Paul Robeson, who played John Henry on Broadway. Masterfully composed and full of myth and magic, Whitehead's great American novel considers such dualities as nature and civilization, legend and history, black and white, and altruism and greed, while deftly skewering the absurdities of the information age. Donna Seaman
Guardian Review
The big, polyphonic novel that strives to capture the spirit of a nation or an age can be a hazardous enterprise. Colson Whitehead made a stylish and much-praised debut in American fiction in 1999 with The Intuitionist , a thrilling blend of noir and fantasy in the allegorical tale of an elevator inspector in pre-civil rights New York. With his second novel, John Henry Days , he has waded into epic. Yet such is the buoyancy of his talent, and the protean assuredness of his prose, that the result is controlled, poignant, wittily observed and often gleefully comic. J Sutter is a freelance journalist from New York, a venal "media mercenary" in a world of hacks and handlers. A "black Yankee", he is braving the South on a travel website freebie, covering the unveiling in smalltown West Virginia of a commemorative festival and postage stamp of John Henry, the black folk hero said to have laboured on the Chesapeake & Ohio railroad's Big Bend Tunnel as a "hammer man" in the 1870s. According to legend, he beat the new machine-age steam drill in a contest of speed, only to fall dead. Once there, J, as he is known, encounters the fellow junketeers who can also "excrete" 1,200 words in two hours, no sweat. All are on The List, a PR mechanism identifying reliable freelancers with a "more-or-less stable ratio of coverage to freeloading" to oil the wheels of hype. At stake here is the "primal American right of free speech, the freedom, without fear of censor, to beguile, confuse and otherwise distract the people into plodding obeisance of pop". The junketeers, thinks J, are "quintessential Americans . . . they want and want now, and someone else is picking up the check". The John Henry Days festival marks the selling of a whole town, with attendant merchandising including a souvenir foam hammer. Other characters drawn to the event include the owners of the local haunted motel; a sad but sinister stamp collector; and Pamela Street, for whom J falls. She has come to John Henry's home town to bury the ashes of her father, a Harlem collector of black memorabilia. As Whitehead parodies the PR circuit and follows the junketeers and their fellow motel guests, the John Henry legend unfolds in sombre, elusive fragments, "hard-fought dribs and drabs" of oral testimony, work songs and ballads, and passages powerfully imagining the life of the labourer himself. While John Henry emerges as an everyman - or at least every freed slave who left the plantations for hard, often lethal, labour on the railroads - the novel searches for meanings in the legend: man against machine; an "ideal of black masculinity in a castrating country"; the high price of progress. Whitehead, a former TV critic for New York's Village Voice , hints at how the storytelling of old has given way to today's media myth- makers. Early on in the novel we hear of a rock festival that ends in a shooting; as a local reporter trawls for eye witnesses, "a thousand different stories collide; this making of truth is violence too". There is an insistent parallel between the industrial or machine age to which John Henry was sacrificed and the digital-information age to which J is enslaved, in which information is used not to enlighten but to sell. Where transcontinental railroads once joined a nation (although their black labourers were barred from towns and lived in shanties near the work camps), today's lines of communication are fibre optics. J, who determines to attend a PR event every single day, is involved in a self-imposed contest with the machinery of hype. As one character says: "We make our own machines and devise our own contests in which to engage them." More compelling than this peculiar parallel contest is J's change of heart. J is a "talented fellow who allowed himself to betray his talent"; a man capable, at a Michael Jordan promotion, of helping himself to Nike shoes intended for disadvantaged children. Yet he was, it emerges, named after John Henry by a mother who grew up on Harlem's Strivers' Row, forbidden by aspirant parents to chew gum lest it thicken her lips, or to play the folk ballads she loved. When Pamela takes J to bury her father's ashes in a railroad labourers' graveyard, J realises that "in the same dirt he was scratching into lay dead men who did more back-breaking work in a day than he had done in his whole life". As an African-American, J is humbled by the John Henry legend; made aware of the obscenity of cynicism given the price others have paid. In contrast to Whitehead's first book, there is little in the way of suspense in John Henry Days ; the novel is propelled by the quality of the writing and observation which, together with his serious intent, elevate it above frothier social satires. The ending, too, is left ambiguous, as befits a legend whose meaning is fluid. As the young J insistently asked his teacher after seeing a cartoon of John Henry: "If he beat the steam engine, why did he have to die? Did he win or lose?" To order this book for pounds 10 plus p&p call Guardian book service on 0870 066 7979. Caption: article-maya.1 As [Colson Whitehead] parodies the PR circuit and follows the junketeers and their fellow motel guests, the John Henry legend unfolds in sombre, elusive fragments, "hard-fought dribs and drabs" of oral testimony, work songs and ballads, and passages powerfully imagining the life of the labourer himself. While John Henry emerges as an everyman - or at least every freed slave who left the plantations for hard, often lethal, labour on the railroads - the novel searches for meanings in the legend: man against machine; an "ideal of black masculinity in a castrating country"; the high price of progress. More compelling than this peculiar parallel contest is J's change of heart. J is a "talented fellow who allowed himself to betray his talent"; a man capable, at a Michael Jordan promotion, of helping himself to Nike shoes intended for disadvantaged children. Yet he was, it emerges, named after John Henry by a mother who grew up on Harlem's Strivers' Row, forbidden by aspirant parents to chew gum lest it thicken her lips, or to play the folk ballads she loved. When [Pamela Street] takes J to bury her father's ashes in a railroad labourers' graveyard, J realises that "in the same dirt he was scratching into lay dead men who did more back-breaking work in a day than he had done in his whole life". As an African-American, J is humbled by the John Henry legend; made aware of the obscenity of cynicism given the price others have paid. - Maya Jaggi.
Kirkus Review
Whitehead, author of the acclaimed Intuitionist (1998), returns with a hilarious, heart-tugging take on the evolution of the American folk hero John Henryand on the theme of inevitability, or the power of fate. African-American J. Sutter is a junketeer, a freelance journalist who specializes in covering publicity events. Along with his junketeer colleagues, J. excels at finagling his expense account and mooching in general as a way of life. But lately another goal drives him. Its his quest to beat the junketeer record of nonstop event coverage set by the legendary Bobby Figgis, an aim that has led him into the John Henry Days Festival assignment. The manic, jaded lives of the junketeers form the main line of Whiteheads busy storyand then theres a surreal tale told by a junketeer about the murder of the black man by Hells Angels at the Stoness Altamont concert, a tale that just pops up out of nowhere, real Tarantino-like and fateful. But in the tradition of fiction like Doctorows Ragtime, Whitehead follows many narrative strings and colorful folk from different eras to explore his theme. Some of those characters come together at the festival in Talcott, West Virginia, a town outside of the Big Bend Tunnel where John Henry supposedly met his Waterloo in his race against the steam drill. Of them all, J.s path will cross most dramatically with those of Pamela Street, a young black woman who has come to Talcott to meet with the prospective buyer of her dead fathers extensive, obsessively acquired John Henry memorabilia collection; and of Alphonse Miggs, a collector of commemorative stamps who saved J.s life in an outrageous prime-rib choking incident. Further still, Whitehead spins off riveting stories about John Henry himself, the scholars who traced his legend, and the singers and peddlers who popularized the John Henry ballad. Thoughtful, amusing tale-spinning with, one imagines, serious film potential. Author tour
Library Journal Review
Whitehead's (The Intuitionist) second novel is an introspective character study surrounding the legend of folk hero John Henry. A John Henry festival in a small West Virginia town draws a diverse crowd, including J. Sutter, a freelance writer going from one event to another in search of free food and paid expenses; and Pamela Street, a restless woman grieving for her father. Both are forced to reevaluate their lives, brought together by bonds of race and history. The author has tried to make this novel an epic saga by filling it with cameo characters and vignettes tracing the history of John Henry's legend and the song that sprang from it, but they are too one-dimensional for the reader to care. Too many characters and a forced writing style make this an unremarkable work about wasted lives and superficial people. Recommended for large libraries only, or those who own the author's previous work. Ellen Flexman, Indianapolis-Marion Cty. P.L. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Prologue About 45 years ago I was in Morgan County, Kentucky. There was a bunch of darkeys came from Miss. to assist in driving a tunnel at the head of Big Caney Creek for the O&K railroad. There is where I first heard this song, as they would sing it to keep time with their hammers. HAVING SEEN YOUR advertisement in the Chicago Defender, I am answering your request for information, concerning the Old-Time Hero of the Big Bend Tunnel Days--or Mr. John Henry. I have succeeded in recalling and piecing together 13 verses, dedicated to such a splendid and deserving character of by gone days. It was necessary to interview a number of Old-Timers of the Penitentiary to get some of the missing words and verify my recollections; so I only hope it will please you, and be what you wish. In regards to the reality of John Henry, I would say he was a real live and powerful man, some 50 years ago, and actually died after beating a steam drill. His wife was a very small woman who loved John Henry with all her heart. My Grand Father, on my mother's side, was a steel driver, and worked on all them big jobs through out the country in them days, when steam drills were not so popular. He was always boasting about his prowess with a hammer, claiming none could beat him but John Henry. He used to sing of John Henry, and tell of the old days when hammers and hammer men could do the work of the steam drills. Being pretty young at the time, I can not now recall all the stories I heard, but I know John Henry, died some time in the eighties about 1881 or 1882, I'm sure which was a few years before I was born. I am setting a price on this information; I am a prisoner here in the Ohio Penitentiary and without funds, so I will be pleased to expect what ever you care to offer. ______ IN 1890 PEOPLE around town here were singing the song of John Henry, a hammering man. I was working in an oyster house here in Norfolk, Va. for Fenerstein and Company, and I am 66 years old and still working for them people. JOHN HENRY WAS a steel driver and was famous in the beginning of the building of the C&O Railroad. He was also a steel driver in the extension of the N&W Railroad. It was about 1872 that he was in this section. This was before the day of the steam drills and drill work was done by two powerful men who were special steel drillers. They struck the steel from each side and as they struck the steel they sang a song which they improvised as they worked. John Henry was the most famous steel driver ever known in southern West Virginia. He was a magnificent specimen of genus homo, was reported to be six feet two, and weighed two hundred and twenty-five or thirty pounds, was a straight as an arrow and was one of the handsomest men in the country--and, as one informant told me, was a black as a kittle in hell. Whenever there was a spectacular performance along the line of drilling, John Henry was put on the job, and it is said he could drill more steel than any two men of his day. He was a great gambler and was notorious all through the country for his luck at gambling. To the dusky sex all through the country he was "the greatest ever," and he was admired and beloved by all the negro women from the southern West Virginia line to the C&O. In addition to this he could drink more whiskey, sit up all night and drive steel all day to a greater extent than any man at that time. A man of kind heart, very strong, pleasant address, yet a gambler, a roue, a drunkard and a fierce fighter. MY NAME IS Harvey Hicks and I live in Evington, Virginia. I am writing in reference to your ad in the Chicago Defender. John Henry was a white man they say. He was a prisoner when he was driving steel in the Big Ben tunnel at the time, and he said he could beat the steam drill down. They told him if he did they would set him free. It is said he beat the steam drill about two minutes and a half and fell dead. He drove with a hammer in each hand, nine pound sledge. MY UNCLE GUS (the man who raised my father) worked on the Cursey Mountain Tunnel and knew the man. He said he was Jamaican, yellow-complected, tall, and weighed about 200 pounds. _______ I AM A steam shovel operator or "runner" and have heard steel drivers sing "John Henry" all my life and there are probably lots of verses I never heard as it used to be that every new steel driving "nigger" had a new verse to "John Henry." I never personally knew John Henry, but I have talked to many old-timers who did. He actually worked on the Chesapeake & Ohio Ry. for Langhorn & Langhorn and was able to drive 9 feet of steel faster than the steam drill could in Big Bend Tunnel. Then later he was hanged in Welch, Va., for murdering a man. After sifting out the "chaff" I think I can assure you above is correct. I have heard three versions of the song, mostly in the same section of the country, that is West Virginia, Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee and North Carolina, seldom elsewhere except by men from one of the above states. I have worked all over the South, South West, and I have heard the John Henry song almost ever since I could remember, and it is the song I ever first remember of. I THINK THIS John Henry stuff is just a tale someone started. My father worked for the Burleigh Drill Company and told me for a fact that no steam drill was ever used in the Big Bend Tunnel. He was a salesman for Burleigh. JOHN HENRY WAS a native of Holly Springs, Mississippi, and was shipped to the Curzee mountain tunnel, Alabama, to work on the AGS Railway in 1880. I have been told that he did indeed beat the steam drill, but did not die that day. He was killed some time later during a cave-in. HAVING BEEN BORN and raised in the state of Tennessee and, therefore, in sufficiently close contact with the negro element there, it happens I have heard these songs practically all my life, until I left that section of the country six years ago. I have been informed that John Henry was a true character all right, a nigger whose vocation was driving steel during the construction of a tunnel on one of the Southern railways. THE BALLAD, by special right, belongs to the railroad builders. John Henry was a railroad builder. It belongs to the pick-and-shovel men--to the skinners--to the steel drivers--to the men of the construction camps. It is sung by Negro laborers everywhere, and none can sing it as they sing it, because none honor and revere the memory of John Henry as much as do they. I have been a "Rambler" all my life--ever since I ran away from the "white folks" when twelve years old--and have worked with my people in railroad grading camps from the Great Lakes to Florida and from the Atlantic to the Missouri River, and wherever I have worked, I have always found someone who could and would sing of John Henry. JOHN HENRY THE steel driving champion was a native of Alabama and from near Bessemer or Blackton. The steel driver was between the ages of 45 and 50 and weighed about 155 pounds. He was not a real black man, but more of a chocolate color. He was straight and well muscled. THE LAST TIME I saw John Henry, who was called Big John Henry, was when a blast fell on him and another Negro. They were covered with blankets and carried out of the tunnel. I don't think John Henry was killed in the accident because I didn't hear of him being buried, and the bosses were always careful in looking after the injured and dead. I don't know a thing about John Henry driving steel in a contest with a steam drill, and I don't think I ever saw one at the tunnel. Hand drills were used in the tunnel. They were using an engine at shaft number one to raise the bucket up when we moved to the tunnel, but they didn't have any steam engine or steam drill in the tunnel. I'VE HEARD THE song in a thousand different places, nigger extra gangs, hoboes of all kinds, coal miners and furnace men, river and wharf rats, beach combers and sailors, harvest hands and timber men. Some of them drunk and some of them sober. It is scattered over all the states and some places on the outside. I have heard any number of verses cribbed bodily from some other song or improvised to suit the occasion. The opinion among hoboes, section men and others who sing the song is that John Henry was a Negro, "a coal black man" a partly forgotten verse says, "a big fellow," an old hobo once said. He claimed to have known him but he was drunk on Dago Red, so I'm discounting everything he said. I have met very few who claimed to have known him. The negroes of forty years ago regarded him as a hero of their race. From the Hardcover edition. Excerpted from John Henry Days by Colson Whitehead All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
