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A review by macloo
A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest J. Gaines
5.0
Why haven't I read this book before now? I don't know! It's a story of race in America, of how to be strong, how to be humble, how to learn (and earn) respect.
I've been thinking about it for almost 24 hours, and I keep coming back to the idea of self-respect. If a person doesn't show respect to others, it's likely he doesn't respect himself. The parallels and differences between a condemned Black man, waiting in a Louisiana jail cell to die, and a Black schoolteacher in the same town, are like a merry-go-round: They're so different, yet they are the same. They have such different places in society, but they have the same place thanks to American racism. They have different futures ahead, but that's just a flip of a coin.
Grant Wiggens, the teacher, seems to have a big chip on his shoulder. He wants to leave this town, this sugar cane plantation where he grew up, but he can't seem to get it done. His aunt (whose house he lives in) pressures him to help Jefferson, the man convicted of a killing he only witnessed, for the sake of her friend, Jefferson's godmother. There's no way he's going to escape electrocution, so the help Grant is asked to give is to allow Jefferson to walk to that chair on his last day with dignity.
At first this seems impossible, and it comes down to self-respect. Little by little, although he's reluctant and even resents the task, Grant figures out ways to build Jefferson up. It's not flimsy self-help fluff either — that wouldn't do any good. It has to be real. As Grant makes his visits to the jail, we see all the ways that Grant is respected and disrespected out in the world. He interacts with his girlfriend (also a teacher), his aunt, the local preacher, the landowner, the sheriff, and a white deputy named Paul (a very sympathetic character).
I can't convey how marvelous this book is by describing it. It's one of those rare novels that deftly encloses you in someone else's world, using matter-of-fact observation and simple day-to-day dialogue. I kept being reminded of Hemingway because Gaines's sentences are a sparse, clear truth that just give you the world without any fuss or embellishment. I thought several times about To Kill a Mockingbird, which I always loved (and read at least three times) — and while I must still love Scout, that book has now forever fallen from the pedestal I'd kept it on. If a Black man falsely accused of a crime in America was ever shown to us honestly, it's here, in this novel.
.
I've been thinking about it for almost 24 hours, and I keep coming back to the idea of self-respect. If a person doesn't show respect to others, it's likely he doesn't respect himself. The parallels and differences between a condemned Black man, waiting in a Louisiana jail cell to die, and a Black schoolteacher in the same town, are like a merry-go-round: They're so different, yet they are the same. They have such different places in society, but they have the same place thanks to American racism. They have different futures ahead, but that's just a flip of a coin.
Grant Wiggens, the teacher, seems to have a big chip on his shoulder. He wants to leave this town, this sugar cane plantation where he grew up, but he can't seem to get it done. His aunt (whose house he lives in) pressures him to help Jefferson, the man convicted of a killing he only witnessed, for the sake of her friend, Jefferson's godmother. There's no way he's going to escape electrocution, so the help Grant is asked to give is to allow Jefferson to walk to that chair on his last day with dignity.
At first this seems impossible, and it comes down to self-respect. Little by little, although he's reluctant and even resents the task, Grant figures out ways to build Jefferson up. It's not flimsy self-help fluff either — that wouldn't do any good. It has to be real. As Grant makes his visits to the jail, we see all the ways that Grant is respected and disrespected out in the world. He interacts with his girlfriend (also a teacher), his aunt, the local preacher, the landowner, the sheriff, and a white deputy named Paul (a very sympathetic character).
I can't convey how marvelous this book is by describing it. It's one of those rare novels that deftly encloses you in someone else's world, using matter-of-fact observation and simple day-to-day dialogue. I kept being reminded of Hemingway because Gaines's sentences are a sparse, clear truth that just give you the world without any fuss or embellishment. I thought several times about To Kill a Mockingbird, which I always loved (and read at least three times) — and while I must still love Scout, that book has now forever fallen from the pedestal I'd kept it on. If a Black man falsely accused of a crime in America was ever shown to us honestly, it's here, in this novel.
.