I was not at all ready for this book. This was one of the books I read for the quarterfinals of the BookTube Prize, and I went into it expecting your straight-forward novel with some interesting themes and maybe some magical realism in the background. What I got was… not that. This book is surreal, funny, pointed, and deftly layered.
On the surface it’s the story of an author who is on a book tour for his on-the-way-to-being-a-classic book, also only referred to in the novel as Hell of a Book. He’s a great example of the truism that you should never meet public figures you admire. He’s a mess. When we first meet him he’s running down a hotel hallway, naked, while being pursued by the husband of a woman he’s just had a dalliance with, who is brandishing a wooden coat hanger. And things don’t really go uphill from there.
It turns out our author isn’t all that compos mentis. He’s seeing people who aren’t there, seems to be missing information that people around him assume he has and isn’t even all that sure about the events of his own life or his own identity. The book progresses through discoveries he makes, and events that give him an uncomfortable sense that maybe they’re supposed to echo his own life in some way that is completely lost on him, but not necessarily on those around him.
Simultaneously we’re hearing the stories of a young boy nicknamed Soot, due to the impossible darkness of his skin, and another unnamed youth. We hear about their experiences alongside the author’s and are left wondering how they connect, if they connect, and who each character actually is. This vague overlapping puts the reader in a similar state of unknowing to that experienced by the character we’re following, and beautifully evokes the mental state he’s in.
As the book continues, we start to see more references to race and racism, and to look at those topics from different perspectives. These ideas and experiences are taken out, examined, turned over, looked at from every side, and put side-by-side so that we have to really look at what they mean and how they’re related to each other. The ideas aren’t new, and many are being discussed more and more due to the Black Lives Matter movement and the events that fueled it before, during and since 2020. We see echoes of these events – a young Black boy walking at night in a hoodie, a Black man lying on the ground at the behest of a police officer, a Black man being stopped by the police while out on a run – and are confronted by what they mean within the larger context of American society, and the process by which young Black kids are forced to become aware of how this systemic racism will impact them. It also discusses how parents of Black children are forced to destroy their child’s innocence in a desperate attempt to keep them safe when they are inevitably confronted with a potentially life-ending situation.
This book has so many different layers. It’s an interesting premise. It’s got some humour. It’s got a fumbling and foundering main character who’s somehow (mostly) sympathetic. It’s got characters who turn out not to be who they seem, and it even has celebrity cameos which also sometimes make us question our – or the narrator’s – perceptions. It has brilliantly drawn caricatures. In parts it’s fun, and in others it is absurd. But it also holds moments of true clarity and revelation. I was impressed with how the author managed to carefully balance the interplay between the different elements, and how he was able to bring important topics to light without addressing them head on. I think this is the kind of book that requires the reader to completely let go. Let go of definitions of genre, ideals of character, even our perception of reality. In order to get along with this book, you just have to let it take you on a ride. And it’s a wild one. But it somehow takes you exactly where you need to go, if only you can let it. I am so glad I was given a reason to pick up this book, and I can honestly say I’ve never read anything like it. For that alone, it’s worth a read, but there’s so much more to it than that. For what it’s worth, it was my #1 pick in my round of 6 excellent fiction books.
In Hell of a Book, an African-American author sets out on a cross-country book tour to promote his bestselling novel. That storyline drives Jason Mott’s novel and is the scaffolding of something much larger and more urgent: since his novel also tells the story of Soot, a young Black boy living in a rural town in the recent past, and The Kid, a possibly imaginary child who appears to the author on his tour.
Throughout, these characters’ stories build and build and as they converge, they astonish. For while this heartbreaking and magical book entertains and is at once about family, love of parents and children, art, and money, there always is the tragic story of a police shooting playing over and over on the news.
Who has been killed? Who is The Kid? Will the author finish his book tour, and what kind of world will he leave behind? Unforgettably powerful, an electrifying high-wire act, ideal for book clubs, and the book Mott says he has been writing in his head for ten years, Hell of a Book in its final twists truly becomes its title. – Goodreads
Book Title: Hell of a Book
Author: Jason Mott
Series: No
Edition: Hardback/Audiobook
Published By: Dutton
Released: June 29, 2021
Genre: Fiction, Race, Social Commentary
Pages: 323
Date Read: May 10-17, 2022
Rating: 9/10
Average Goodreads Rating: 4.07/5 (11,442 ratings)
Here is the link for my post, in case you want to go back and look at my three points of interest: https://headfullofbooks.blogspot.com/2021/11/review-and-quotes-hell-of-book.html
Okay. Let’s start a discussion. How do you like the idea of discussing my three points? Today let’s attempt to deal with number 1: [Because an author is Black, does that mean he/she has to be willing to a spokesman about the ‘Black condition’, showing up at anti-racism rallies, speaking out about racial trauma, etc?] I taught in public education for over thirty years. Every time we had a Black teacher or administrator they told me (and others) that they did not feel qualified to represent their race every time the issue of justice/equality comes up. It was odd. No one would run to white female teacher, me, and ask me how all whites feel about an issue or how all females feel. Why should we expect Blacks to have an opinion on every racially charged situation or to be the spokesperson for their race? What are your thoughts?
Yippee! I’m excited to discuss! Excellent idea.
I absolutely agree. I think it’s absurd to expect anyone to be able to be a representative of their entire perceived race. Particularly as “race” isn’t a real thing in the first place (and it’s also not always an easy thing to know just by looking at someone – appearances can be inaccurate representations of both genetics and family makeup). I’d be completely taken aback if someone were to come to me, for example, and ask me what it’s like to be white in America. I’d be guessing about that almost as much as I’d be guessing at what it’s like to be Asian or Black in America. No clue. But no one ever would ask me that, because it’s so obvious that it’s absurd. I also tend to feel like if I want to know what it might be like to be Black in any context, it’s on me to try and find someone who has shared that experience. There are so many books, TV shows, documentaries, online articles etc. that share a whole range of Black experiences, so it’s not that hard to find a perspective myself that can help me to understand something outside of my own lived experience. I don’t think it’s fair to expect Black people to teach white people about racism. On top of dealing with it on a daily basis. I also think there’s a lack of sensitivity that it might be a deeply personal topic. So no, I don’t think that because an author is Black they should have to be willing to be a spokesperson about the “Black condition.” I also think they shouldn’t have to address it in their work. Definitely optional. I think it often does come up (the whole “write what you know” thing), but I am hoping that, as the publishing industry starts to realize there’s a real audience for more BIPOC authors, that there will be more space for writing by BIPOC authors that isn’t about race. Again, each writer has different interests and different stories to tell. I definitely don’t think that dealing with race is pre-requisite of being an author who happens to be Black!
Over to you! I’ll copy this to your blog as well so you’ll get a notification. Thanks for the discussion!
Oh man, you make some excellent points. I agree that BIPOC authors shouldn’t have to write about their race condition. That leads into my second theme/point for us to discuss:
[When an author is identified as Black that title goes with him/her, ‘Black author’, and this limits the types of characters they can include in their books. We don’t call whites who write as ‘White authors’.]
I had this point smack in my face one year during February, Black History Month. I decided that I wouldn’t highlight historical books in the library as per usual, but I’d highlight Black authors. I realized I had no idea who were Black authors beyond the obvious ones like Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, and Toni Morrison. So I went to the Internet and typed in “Black authors” in the search bar. All of the sudden it hit me that I couldn’t do a similar search for White authors. It really bothered me when the reality of it came to me. White authors are known as writers. Black authors are known as Black writers. Sigh.
Back to you. Your thoughts?
YES. I think the fact that you can do a Google search for Black authors and expect to get a decently accurate and encompassing response (at least for the mainstream works) highlights a few issues. 1) How often Black authors are discussed as such when their work is being reviewed or talked about online. 2) How little space there has historically been for Black work in the publishing industry that there is a manageable number of books that are popular enough to be shown in results to this search. 3) How even when Black authors are being read, it’s the same Black authors – I wonder if this speaks to a tendency for white readers to read token “Black” classics to feel like they’ve done their duty, but without putting in effort to branch out and explore further. 4) How much work there must be out there by Black authors that is not published or promoted by major publishers, how much is not easy to find even if you’re looking for it, and how much we’re missing out on.
I’m hoping that, as publishers start making more of an effort to publish and promote Black authors, they’ll both become more able to explore different genres and voices and topics in their work, and that there’ll be so many one day that Google will just crash trying to bring back the results! I’m still working my way through some of the better known works by Black authors, but I’m not planning to stop seeking out as many different types of voices and experiences as I can, so hopefully I’ll become a more well-rounded reader (and person) through my reading. I do feel like reading more by Black authors and BIPOC authors more generally has been hugely helpful to my efforts to start understanding more of the experiences and historical context of racism – worldwide, but especially in America – so that I am now more aware of what to look for around me once I’m back out in the world, and that I’ll be better able to advocate for and be sensitive to racism and microaggressions, and that I’ll have learned some of the things I might otherwise have been tempted to want to ask a BIPOC person – like that I shouldn’t be asking them and should be seeking out information for my damn self! Over to you!
I hadn’t even considered your angle but I think now that you are correct. Part of the reason we are able to search “black authors” on Google and get a list worth considering is because there are not as many Black authors (published) as there should be. Along that line, there are not as many black inventors, scientists, etc. either. I just read a book, Washington Black, about an escaped slave who was very smart and helped the English gentleman scientists with their work but got zero credit. I know of a few BIPOC authors who are writing Sci-Fi and Fantasy, nothing related to race at all. No one should be shocked by that. Wh not write about what you want to write about not just writing about the BIPOC condition?
This week’s question is not related to writing but to life and self esteem–
[Black parents recognize that they need to prepare their children for the realities of the world but as soon as they start telling their children ways to help protect themselves they are also, in essence, telling them
that they are ‘less than’ others and it lowers self-esteem.]
I think Hell of a Book really made this point strongly. It is a double-edged sword for parents. Tell them to beware of police and certain situations and in the process this message tells them they are NOT equal to people who don’t have to worry about such events. I recently read SO YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT RACE and the author talked about the right of passage, learning to drive, is a necessity for Blacks but not a joy. As soon as they take to the road, they put their lives in danger. So sad.
Your thoughts?
I’ve left this a few days to think about and wanted to wait until I had time to reply properly. So here goes.
I agree that Black representation in pretty much every field either isn’t as high as it should be, or that the Black people in those roles weren’t properly credited (I’m thinking of that book/movie about the Black women who worked for NASA – Hidden Figures or something?) as you point out. I started but didn’t finish Washington Black and keep meaning to go back to it. I have heard such great things, and did find what I read intriguing (to say I enjoyed it seems not at all like the right way to put it). But yes, that’s definitely a good point. And I fully agree about BIPOC authors being given the same freedom and latitude as white authors to write whatever they want. I think it’s valuable when race is discussed, but I definitely don’t think it should be assumed or required. I wonder if this also speaks to the types of books that were deemed publishable – that a lot of the books that were published by Black authors addressed race and racism, while other genres and topics were less likely to be considered? I’m hoping, again, that with more Black authors being published, there will also be a growing range of work and the fact that the author is Black won’t dictate a focus on race.
Now, on to your next question. I have so many things I want to say here. This topic is one that is incredibly difficult. The stress and fear of parenting is something I was not prepared for, and that’s parenting a white kid in a safe area with all the privilege etc. etc. I have thought a lot about what it must be like to be a Black parent, particularly in the US. I saw you’ve read Ta-Nehisi Coates’ book, and I feel like that speaks to this topic so directly, along with James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time. They said it all, and so much better than I could. One thing I took from both of these books is that yes, this is an extra weight to be carried and, unfortunately, to pass on. But I also felt like they were both saying that while they acknowledge the weight of racism, they also have a lot of pride in their heritage and how their ancestors and cultures have survived, despite it all. I remember Coates talking about how there’s an instant connection and understanding between Black Americans, without exchanging a word. That history binds as much as divides, and that’s something that I think also needs to be acknowledged. Which isn’t to diminish the horrific situation Black parents are in, but just to also see the strength and resilience that exists alongside it.
Another thing I’ve been thinking about is how easy it is, as a white person, to feel like this is something that affects other people, way over there. To feel distanced and insulated from it. I’m reading Ibram X. Kendi’s new book, How to Raise an Antiracist, and he talks about the legacy of racism for all children. He draws an analogy to teaching children to look before running into a road. How no one balks at that idea because it might be upsetting for a child to be told what might happen if they don’t. And yet people shy away from discussing racism – or even race – with their kids a lot. He discusses how even he did this with his own daughter. But what really struck me about his discussion is that he isn’t just addressing Black parents. He’s addressing ALL parents. He’s saying that racism is a danger to ALL of us. Now, obviously the danger differs between white and Black people. But I loved that he is very clear that we are all responsible for making sure our children are raised to know what racism is, to recognize it, and to understand how to respond in an antiracist way. He also talks about how important it is to discuss so that white kids aren’t as vulnerable to racist ideologies and groups, and so that they feel more able to discuss racism with their parents as they get older. That racism can in fact threaten all kids directly, even if in different ways, and that it’s important for everyone that this is an open topic. That this is how change happens, and this is what will benefit all of our children. I’m not doing him justice at all here, but hopefully some of the idea comes through.
For now, though, Black parents do have to discuss racism with their kids early and often, while white people have a choice – entitlement right there – and as their children get older they do need to keep them safe. It’s hard truth. But I think Kendi is right in that if it’s introduced early, matter-of-factly and not dodged around, it doesn’t become something that necessarily has to tear down the self esteem of Black kids just by discussing it. If they’re taught the origins of racism, the context surrounding it, why it’s wrong, and surrounded with positive representations of diversity and taught to love who they are, hopefully, though the danger and urgency still exists, it is an external threat rather than one that becomes internalized as a feeling of inferiority or failure to achieve. Particularly when it comes to understanding the role of systemic racism and how that plays out in day-to-day interactions, particularly in schools. Obviously I don’t know anything about this first hand, this is based on what I’ve read and mostly what I hope might be the case in the future. But it’s what I’m holding in my mind on the topic right now. It’s a difficult topic, and probably your most difficult question to address.
Hell of a Book really deserved to be the National Book Award winner. Why? Because it has generated two women to have a really deep conversation we wouldn’t have had had we not read the book.
I need to find the time to read Kendi’s new book about raising antiracists. I have grandchildren and I am hoping their momma and daddy care enough to read it, too. I keep confronting new situations I wasn’t aware of before that have to do with white privilege and I am trying to learn to live with my discomfort as I try to move toward a more empathetic person.
The latest situation had to do with new information I learned by reading The Violin Conspiracy which deals with the prejudice/racism directed toward Blacks who want to play classical music. Eek! So many microaggressions I hadn’t thought of before.
Thanks for discussing the book with me. Please feel free to visit me at Head Full of Books if you might any especially helpful books I should consider reading.
Definitely! I feel like this book opens doors to really interesting discussion, because it’s so interesting in the format, deals with race in such a unique way, and brings the reader along on quite a ride. I like any books that spark engagement with topics that are both important and challenging – race is one such topic. I think reading about race and racism (mostly from the perspective of people who have dealt with it throughout their lives) is something I’ve been so grateful to have the opportunity to do. I’ll never know what it’s like to live in a skin that makes you a target, but I want to understand as much as I can, because it’s my responsibility to both understand my privilege and appreciate what it has afforded me. And to make it possible for me to see more of the racism that exists around me – from the racial make-up of the area I live in, to the way people are treated around me, to my own thoughts and reactions in racially charged situations. The more I read, the more I learn, the better I can become at recognizing racism. So important.
As you say, it’s also vital to parenting, particularly when I live in a very white area. Ideally I’d move to a more diverse community, but there are reasons I live where I do and I’m not willing to give up the important things I gain here on a personal level, though I’m aware it’s perpetuating a form of systemic racism to add to the sea of whiteness. If I’m not willing or able to move, it then becomes even more important for me to be mindful of discussing racism with my kid (my privilege means this is “optional” for me – but I’m of the opinion that it should not be seen that way because for so many parents it is necessary). To make sure I’m presenting diversity (racial and otherwise) in the media we consume, the books we read, and the issues we discuss as my kid gets older. It has taken me a long time to really delve into the topic, and I’m hoping to pass on some of what I’ve learned so my kid will come to some of the realizations I’ve had earlier – at least, that’s my goal. Also, I’ve been extremely lucky in my life to be surrounded by people from all over the world. I was surrounded by different languages and cultures throughout my childhood because my mother taught ESL, and therefore hearing certain languages feels like home to me, even though I don’t understand them. I went to an international school and learned from people who lived in different countries what the cultures and issues in different parts of the world are. I am grateful for these experiences, because I think they were some of the most important in forming who I am. I think that learning about other cultures, really listening to other people’s experiences, is how we learn about ourselves and the world we live in. The beauty of diversity, the mindblowing variety of ways to live in this world. Each culture has beauty and wonder, its own language, art, customs and history. Anyway, I’m rambling at this point, but hopefully there’s a point in there somewhere!
I wanted to mention a few things about the book directly – warning to anyone else reading this SPOILERS – if you don’t mind. As there are a few things that really stood out to me as being particularly interesting or effective. The first is the character’s unawareness of basic facts of his own life (like his skin colour) and how these are revealed to him along with the reader. It created an interesting feeling of being in it with him, and I found that very effective. Likewise the madcap rollercoaster ride of the plot and how that made for an unsettling feeling of being untethered while reading. It predisposed me to be more easily able to suspend my expectations and accept the more outlandish elements of the story. And finally, that celebrity cameo. What was up with NC?? I’ve never thought of him as being wise and all-knowing, and I can’t decide if the author actually thinks he’s a lot smarter than he seems, or if that was a bit of a joke. What do you think?
I’ve very much enjoyed chatting about this book with you – thank you for indulging me!
I was really profoundly moved by this book. You wrote a great review.
Thank you! I had a really hard time writing this review. All the things I wanted to call out that really stood out for me, or the connections I made, all couldn’t be talked about without spoilers. So I have so much more I want to say!! I loved this book in part because it was a completely new experience for me, and I thought it was just so cleverly done. Not an easy thing to pull off, but Mott managed it admirably! Nice to hear from someone else who has read it, as I don’t know anyone who has!