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Ryan Simmons. Chesnutt and Realism: A Study of the Novels.
Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2006. 198p.
Susana M. Morris
Emory University
Ryan Simmons' Chesnutt and Realism: A Study of the Novels is a timely work that
proposes a key paradigm shift in critical studies about Charles W. Chesnutt. Simmons
argues that all too often Chesnutt is on the periphery of studies on realism when he
should be considered as a major contributor to the genre, alongside William Dean
Howells, Henry James, and others. Nonetheless, Simmons' goal is not to simply judge
Chesnutt against canonical white authors. Rather, Simmons contends that criticism
should recognize Chesnutt for his challenge to white readers to reconsider their
racial politics and his life-long career goal to determine the best way to sway
an often indifferent mainstream audience. For Simmons, labeling Chesnutt as a
realist is not posthumous classification, but rather a recognition of how Chesnutt
viewed himself as a writer.
Chesnutt and Realism combines criticism on Chesnutt's most famous works, such as
The House Behind the Cedars and The Marrow of Tradition, with analysis on
his unpublished and posthumously published novels. Simmons' study focuses only on
novels, which he contends were Chesnutt's most successful realizations of realist
techniques. Simmons begins with Chesnutt's undervalued novels of urban life in the
North: A Business Career, Evelyn's Husband and The Rainbow Chasers.
These novels, unlike Chesnutt's most famous works, focused on upper-class Northern
whites, and issues of racial problems were conspicuously absent. Simmons argues that
although these Northern novels were markedly different from their successors they
served a key purpose in Chesnutt's development as a writer: they helped him hone
his skills as a realist. Simmons insists that these works should not be dismissed
as commercial flops that ignored racial politics and were unable to be published,
but as the training ground for Chesnutt's later, more successful, ventures into
realist fiction. Furthermore, Simmons provocatively contends that these novels do
include racial issues through a covert subtext of miscegenation, which Chesnutt
inserts so subtly that readers and critics alike have inadvertently overlooked them.
Simmons explores the "tragic mulatta" in the posthumously released novella Mandy
Oxendine and The House Behind the Cedars and argues that while these texts
may, on the surface, recycle the oft-told tragic nature of the mixed raced woman,
they actually reveal a more complex negotiation about race, identity, and community.
Characters in these texts upset rigid classifications of race and, for Chesnutt,
the very possibility of the passing motif illustrates both "cultural fluidity" and
the fragility of the foundations of race-based discrimination (78). Thus, these works
are part of Chesnutt's mission to have his readers recognize that while they cannot
change the history of slavery and oppression, they do have the power to not let
these circumstances overdetermine their society's future. While Simmons champions
Mandy Oxendine and The House Behind the Cedars as complex renderings
of race, he does, however, finds fault with what he sees as Chesnutt's inability
to forward solutions to the problems that he documents. This critique is a running
commentary for Simmons and he cites it as one of Chesnutt's major critical shortcomings.
Simmons devotes an entire chapter to The Marrow of Tradition, where he argues
that it is too simplistic to designate the novel as propaganda because that dismisses
Chesnutt's narrative restraint in his retelling of the bloody 1898 Wilmington race
riots. The novel reflects Chesnutt's persistent goal to undermine the "naturalness"
of social practices such as racial discrimination and to jolt readers into antiracist
action. Most important for Simmons is that The Marrow of Tradition was in many ways
Chesnutt's test case for marrying race to a more explicitly realist novel than his
previous efforts. Simmons sees this experiment continuing in The Colonel's
Dream, which he argues deserves more the scant critical attention it has
heretofore received. The novel marks a significant shift in Chesnutt's racial
politics, whereby it seems he began to abandon his hope of morally revolutionizing
whites, in favor of a dismantling the corrupt social system in the United States.
Chesnutt and Realism ends with a discussion of two unpublished novels, Paul
Marchand, F.M.C. and The Quarry. Simmons masterfully uses these texts to
argue that Chesnutt did indeed write significant racial novels in the wake of the
commercial failure of The Colonel's Dream. Simmons links Chesnutt's evolving
moral project in his writing to his engagement with the literary movements in Harlem
Renaissance. When Chesnutt, like W.E.B. DuBois, admonished the new generation of
writers to construct idealized black characters, he is not abandoning realism,
argues Simmons. Instead, this reflects Chesnutt's technique of using the absurd
and the unreal to denote the real. In illuminating the passing narrative in Paul
Marchand, Simmons makes a provocative connection to Mark Twain's Pudd'nhead
Wilson, asserting that Chesnutt is more successful than Twain in asserting that
identity is shaped by one's environment. Simmons convincingly asserts that even in
the decline of his career, Chesnutt's novels had the power to highlight race as a
social construction that had tangible and often destructive effects.
Simmons' text persuasively urges readers to reassess Chesnutt's placement in the canon
of realist writers. While his work is not the first to call for Chesnutt's inclusion,
it is significant in its attempt to address the fullness of Chesnutt's realist
mechanics over time. Indeed, what is perhaps most useful about Chesnutt and
Realism is Simmons' serious attention to the author's unpublished and
under-regarded works. In tracing the trajectory of Chesnutt's intellectual commitment
to realism, Simmons underscores that Chesnutt did not seemingly desire realism's
so-called detachment and objectivity and that the overriding question of Chesnutt's
career was to discover whether realism was in fact the best literary mode to
fight for social justice. Ultimately, Simmons asks us to reconsider Chesnutt's
contribution to realism and recognize that he consistently contested reality
and understood that the ability to understand different perspectives could
inform one's moral power. Chesnutt and Realism may indeed fulfill Simmons'
desire to advance deeper discussions of writers of color, such as Frances E.W.
Harper, Pauline Hopkins, and James Weldon Johnson, into criticism regarding realism.
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