hollyevaallen's review against another edition
5.0
A fabulous but very complex novel with political intrigue, unspoken discussions of gender dynamics, criticisms of white, western patriarchal structures, and more. All with an interesting use of narrative space and time.
drbird's review against another edition
4.0
A fantastic novel that demands close attention. Complex characters, a plot that could be considered epic (or at least cinematic). A great comment on America, on writing, and on race. Williams has a number of good novels that are sadly overlooked. (He's also got a couple of stinkers, but who doesn't?) Check out !Click Song for more on black writers and the struggle to publish; This is My Country Too! for a fantastic look at american in the 60s; and Sissie, for a novel about family dynamics that plays with POV and voice.
rkrupitsky's review against another edition
5.0
Everyone needs to read John A. Williams, a writer I'm sad to have only discovered this month. There's so much to talk about here and the issues of race addressed in the novel, particularly within publishing and literature are ones we're still struggling with today.
christytidwell's review
4.0
I had never even heard of John A. Williams' The Man Who Cried I Am before I began putting together my reading lists for my comps and I have no idea why. It's an amazing novel and one that should have more recognition.
The novel is cinematic in its scope and in its easy fades from one time period, one setting, one mindset to another. The framing narrative follows Max Reddick, an African American novelist and journalist, on one final trip to Amsterdam. He is dying of cancer and makes this last trip to see his estranged wife once more and see his friend Harry's mistress, for she has something important to give him from Harry, who has recently died. On his trip to Amsterdam, he reflects upon who has been and who he has become. His memories take the reader from the 1940s to the present of 1964, as Max's life includes literary parties, newspaper reporting, affair after affair after affair, working with the president [modelled on John F. Kennedy], working in Africa, and living in Paris and Amsterdam with other African American expatriates.
The novel takes on the literary world and its treatment of minority authors (tokenism), relations within minority groups (jealousy), interracial relationships (whether merely sexual or long-term, committed relationships), the place of minorities in politics and the workplace, the chaotic and confusing events of the 1960s, illness and death. Williams provides fictionalized representations of Richard Wright, James Baldwin, John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Malcolm X, thus situating his novel in a very real context while also allowing himself leeway to make larger statements about these figures and their import without being tied to mere facts.
Much of the novel is a realistic portrayal of the culture in which Max's life takes place, from the political to the personal, from the business world to the sexual encounters that occur behind the scenes. This culture becomes more and more central to the story as the novel develops. At first it is mostly backdrop, an element of Max's personal life and not much more, but as the novel builds to a fantastic and utterly believable (and thus completely terrifying) conclusion, the political and social culture comes to the forefront and forces Max to make hard choices about who he is and who he wants to be at the end of his life.
Williams both argues for the necessity of force or at least a show of force, taking a position like Malcolm X's in saying that the oppressed should be willing to create change "by any means necessary," as he simultaneously illustrates the dangers of such an approach and the naiveté of those who believe that uniting black people behind such a banner would be easy or that it would effect any real change without first destroying the population. For Max and other leaders, to speak up is to endanger the lives of every African American in the U.S.; to say nothing, however, does no different. The question is no more and no less, in this case, than how one will choose to die: quickly and violently or slowly and painfully. By showing this paradox surrounding the race issue in mid-20th century America, Williams shows just how complex the issue of whether to use violent and nonviolent techniques of resistance is. It is not a question of violence or nonviolence; it is a question of power. As Bernard Zutkin, a Jewish editor, says to Max, "We survived by knowing exactly where power seemed to be every second of the day. If you're black you know that every white man thinks he has power over you and ergo, he has, until you kick his tail for him" (316). Individual survival is no longer an option for Max or Minister Q or any number of other black people, but their individual actions and sacrifices may make a broader survival possible. That is the only hope that Williams can leave us with at the end of this novel and even that is tenuous.
The novel is cinematic in its scope and in its easy fades from one time period, one setting, one mindset to another. The framing narrative follows Max Reddick, an African American novelist and journalist, on one final trip to Amsterdam. He is dying of cancer and makes this last trip to see his estranged wife once more and see his friend Harry's mistress, for she has something important to give him from Harry, who has recently died. On his trip to Amsterdam, he reflects upon who has been and who he has become. His memories take the reader from the 1940s to the present of 1964, as Max's life includes literary parties, newspaper reporting, affair after affair after affair, working with the president [modelled on John F. Kennedy], working in Africa, and living in Paris and Amsterdam with other African American expatriates.
The novel takes on the literary world and its treatment of minority authors (tokenism), relations within minority groups (jealousy), interracial relationships (whether merely sexual or long-term, committed relationships), the place of minorities in politics and the workplace, the chaotic and confusing events of the 1960s, illness and death. Williams provides fictionalized representations of Richard Wright, James Baldwin, John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Malcolm X, thus situating his novel in a very real context while also allowing himself leeway to make larger statements about these figures and their import without being tied to mere facts.
Much of the novel is a realistic portrayal of the culture in which Max's life takes place, from the political to the personal, from the business world to the sexual encounters that occur behind the scenes. This culture becomes more and more central to the story as the novel develops. At first it is mostly backdrop, an element of Max's personal life and not much more, but as the novel builds to a fantastic and utterly believable (and thus completely terrifying) conclusion, the political and social culture comes to the forefront and forces Max to make hard choices about who he is and who he wants to be at the end of his life.
Williams both argues for the necessity of force or at least a show of force, taking a position like Malcolm X's in saying that the oppressed should be willing to create change "by any means necessary," as he simultaneously illustrates the dangers of such an approach and the naiveté of those who believe that uniting black people behind such a banner would be easy or that it would effect any real change without first destroying the population. For Max and other leaders, to speak up is to endanger the lives of every African American in the U.S.; to say nothing, however, does no different. The question is no more and no less, in this case, than how one will choose to die: quickly and violently or slowly and painfully. By showing this paradox surrounding the race issue in mid-20th century America, Williams shows just how complex the issue of whether to use violent and nonviolent techniques of resistance is. It is not a question of violence or nonviolence; it is a question of power. As Bernard Zutkin, a Jewish editor, says to Max, "We survived by knowing exactly where power seemed to be every second of the day. If you're black you know that every white man thinks he has power over you and ergo, he has, until you kick his tail for him" (316). Individual survival is no longer an option for Max or Minister Q or any number of other black people, but their individual actions and sacrifices may make a broader survival possible. That is the only hope that Williams can leave us with at the end of this novel and even that is tenuous.
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