By turns breathtakingly beautiful and heartbreakingly poignant, William Styron’s The Confessions of Nat Turner ranks among the most beautiful novels I’ve read.

Though unavoidably polemical, the book is nonetheless a deeply stirring contemplation of man’s place in the universe and his duties to his fellow man.

The story is told through the eyes of a man convicted of leading one of the most notorious slave revolts in US history. He is a man of God, and the book explores the circumstances that brought him to the decision to lead a rebellion that, by design, resulted in scores of murders. I must admit that I found my interest flagging at the point in the story where the revolt was actually launched. I found much more compelling the tale of how a man of the cloth could be brought to the conclusion that mass killing is the only viable solution. What series of events, what sequence of circumstances ultimately leads a person or people to conclude that killing is the solution? This book seeks to answer that question, among others.

The crushing dehumanization of the slave system is placed on vivid display by Styron here but the indomitability of the human spirit is the novel's true lodestar. Certainly, one of the most controversial aspects of the story is Styron’s treatment of the love that exists between Nat and a slaveholder’s daughter. In Shakespearean fashion, he draws the lines of a socioeconomic system that stripped an entire class of people of their humanity and, in the process, unavoidably diminished humanity itself.

He describes a scene, late in the book, where Turner is in a position of power over a slave master and Turner realizes with some shock that it is the first time he’s ever looked into the eyes of this man he’s known for over a decade. Such moments punctuate Styron’s work here, along with Turner’s thoroughgoing meditations on why a just god would allow such a system in the first place. The author manages to thoroughly address the two fully-intertwined, yet independently dangerous, subjects of Christianity and slavery, while conducting a searching exploration of our individual humanity when faced with a patently immoral system.

Though a painful read at times, this is a hauntingly beautiful novel and I guess I come down in the camp of people, such as Styron’s friend, James Baldwin, who felt it was a work that needed to be done, regardless of the writer's race. In Baldwin’s own words,

\\n  “Each of us, helplessly and forever, contains the other – male in female, white in black, and black in white. We are part of each other.”\\n

This novel forces us to confront the complex and often uncomfortable realities of our past, and in doing so, it helps us to better understand the present and envision a more just future.

Surely I Come Quickly …

Cloudless sunlight, which gives no hint of the hour or season, glows down upon me. It wraps me in the warmth of a cradle as I drift towards the river's estuary. The little boat rocks gently as we benignly descend together towards the sea. On the unpeopled banks, the woods are silent, as silent as snowfall. No birds call. In windless attitudes of meditation, the crowd of green trees along the river shore stands drooping and still. This low country seems untouched by humanity, by past or future time. Beneath me, where I recline, I feel the boat's sluggish windward drift. I glimpse eddies of foam, branches, leaves, and clumps of grass all rushing past, borne on the serene unhurried flood to the place where the river meets the sea. Faintly now I hear the oceanic roar, and mark the sweep of sunlit water, far-near, glinting with whitecaps. I see the ragged shoulder of a beach where the sea and river join in a tumultuous embrace of swirling waters. But nothing disturbs me. I drowse in the arms of a steadfast and illimitable peace. The salt stings my nostrils. The breakers roll to shore, and the lordly tide swells back beneath a cobalt sky arching eastward toward Africa. An unhurried booming fills me not with fear but only with repose and slumbrous anticipation—serenity as ageless as those rocks, in garlands of weeping seaweed, thrown up by the groaning waves.

Now as I approach the edge of land, I look up for one last time to study the white building standing on its promontory high above the shore. Again I cannot tell what it is or what it means. Stark white, glittering, pure as alabaster, it rests on the precipice, unravaged by weather or wind. It is neither a temple nor a monument nor a sarcophagus but a relic of the ages—of all past and all futurity—white inscrutable paradigm of a mystery beyond utterance or even wonder. The sun bathes its tranquil marble sides, its doorless facade, and the arches that sweep around it, revealing no entry anywhere, no window. Inside, it would be as dark as the darkest tomb. Yet I cannot dwell on that place too long, for again as always I know that to try to explore the mystery would be only to throw open portals on even deeper mysteries, on and on everlastingly, into the remotest corridors of thought and time. So I turn away. I cast my eyes toward the ocean once more, watch the blue waves and the glitter of spume-borne light approaching, and listen to the breaking surf move near as I pass, slowly, in contemplation of a great mystery, out toward the sea …

Setting aside the liberties of the narrative for a moment, the pompous and perfidious proclivity and propensity of Styron to prolific yet pedantic purple prose with endless run-on sentences is truly annoying. It doesn't lead to perspicacious insight into Nat Turner. Instead, it only gives propinquity to the pomposity of the author and the perniciousness of narrative choices. By the time the reader finally reaches page 442 of what could have been 260 pages, it's just frustrating.

Styron's writing isn't annoying in any given paragraph, but as a whole, it is. This took me a month to read, even though I read some every day.

For the content, I'm glad I read the afterword where Styron defends himself. Though it wasn't a particularly compelling defense, at least it established his frame of mind and rationalizations for his narrative decisions.

Part One I didn't hate, and Part 2 was alright (though I started getting fatigued with the style), but Part 3 was full-on fatiguing and offensive. At the very end of the book, Nat appears to masturbate to thoughts of Margaret, the white woman he killed during the insurrection, before he is taken off for hanging.

Oh, sorry SPOILER ALERT

Styron is shocked - SHOCKED - that black writers "attacked" him for this book. He's confused since he's friends with James Baldwin and went to a dinner at a black college shortly after publication where no one seemed upset. But where is their appreciation for creative license? Why didn't someone say something earlier? Why won't people agree to spend a month reading an overly ponderous novel prior to criticizing it? WHY??

I've never much liked the idea of historical fiction, and this book drove home every reason why I assumed I wouldn't like it. After reading Killer Angels, which was a tight read and far more historically accurate than I believed it would be, I thought $1.99 sale + Pulitzer = ROI Win?

No.

In the afterword, Styron claims (along with the supremacy of artistic license) that while it may be satisfying and advantageous for historians to feast on rich archival material, the writer of historical fiction is better off when past events have left him with short rations. He gives the example of John Brown, whose every word and move were recorded, producing a lot of documents. And he also says that a bad historical novel leaves the impression of a hopelessly over-furnished house, cluttered with facts the author wishes to show off as fruits of his diligent research.

I guess I like hopelessly over-furnished houses.

WTR - 640

By sword and ax and gun, you made a significant impact in this county that will be remembered for a long time. You nearly brought your army into this town, as you claim. Moreover, as I previously told you, you scared the entire South to a state that can be described as almost petrified. No black people have ever done anything like this.

During my conceited youth, I enrolled in a History of Slavery course. I wanted to gather evidence against the oppressors. I went to the first class, inspired by Huey Newton, wearing a Ziggy Marley t-shirt, cargo pants, and my Barca soccer cleats. I entered the room with "The Wretched of the Earth" clearly visible. To my surprise, 80 percent of the class was black. Remember, this is southern Indiana. I tried to participate and often did, but the powerful current of history constantly disrupted my thoughts and outbursts. The instructor was also white and spent most of the semester crying. The term project required reading a literary work about the period (like "Gone With The Wind" or "Beloved") and comparing it to slave narratives. I chose William Styron's novel because it was about Nat Turner. After all, I did listen to Public Enemy.

I truly enjoyed the novel and can recall many details. When reading the critical responses, I can understand those who felt that this detailed portrayal somehow took away their inheritance or disillusioned them. The singer Abbey Lincoln said on Ken Burns' "Jazz" that in this country, they'll steal your ancestors. That's a lot to consider when writing a review on Goodreads.

Review written March 2023
The Confessions of Nat Turner changed my life.

William Styron is an outstanding writer of the 20th century, and this is a remarkable and crucial book. Confessions of Nat Turner, written in 1951 as his first novel, was a powerful topic then and remains so today. It's a significant piece about slavery and the lack of civil and human rights. Nat Turner, a preacher, and other prisoners revolted, involving about 200 people, a substantial number at that time. The Nat Turner rebellion of 1831 in Virginia was "probably the most significant uprising in American history," as Lonnie Bunch, director of the National Museum of African American History and Culture, said (quoted in wiki).

You may be familiar with Styron through his excellent book Sophie’s Choice or the fine film made from it. This book raised issues about a mother's choices and human rights during the Holocaust and dealt with the aftermath. Both books were highly influential and extremely well-written.

I read this book as a senior in high school for my year-end English paper, following my teacher's advice. I had read black plays for my junior year project. I was trying to learn more about the killings of Medgar Evans, Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X, as well as slavery itself and why people hate. People I knew were suffering, many were angry, and were finding ways to protest and fight for human rights for all. I was a white kid, and I felt so ignorant. No one in my family talked to me about these things, and our history class had a set curriculum that didn't allow time for what was happening now and why.

This book upset me, awakening me to the ugly realities of US history. So many truths had been withheld. This started to change with the civil rights actions in the 1960s and then with the growing demonstrations against the Vietnam War in my last year of high school.

This book stirred something deep within me. I couldn't put it down unless I was too angry or thinking about it. At school, I talked with some of my classmates who were bused in about the book and their experiences of being bused, and got to know them better. It was such a privilege. The world was so different then.

Two other books I read about Nat Turner in more recent times were: James McBride’s The Good Lord Bird. He has a unique voice. A young slave boy joins Nat Turner's rebellion and has to dress as a girl. It's a wonderful read, as wild as his writing style. Sue Monk Kidd’s The Invention of Wings is about how abolition and women's rights impact her life. Sarah Grimke (a real person) is given her handmaid slave Hattie as a gift by her dad. And this is the story of the choices she made. She was in South Carolina when Nat Turner’s rebellion occurs. I was interested in this book's story because 39 years before, it was the topic of my senior thesis in college: “Abolition and the advent of the women’s movement.” It was a somewhat interdisciplinary endeavor in cultural anthropology, history, and political science.

Styron's book changed my perspective. If I had a box of 10 books that influenced my life, this would be one of them.

Nat Turner's Rebellion is one of the most enduring and important primary sources in the field of southern history.

Although it describes a series of graphic murders that took place during the United States' only successful slave rebellion, Turner still seems sympathetic in this account as presented by a Virginia magistrate.

The rebellion had far-reaching consequences. It led to a series of reactionary measures against enslaved persons and, in particular, against free blacks across the South.

These measures were often harsh and discriminatory, further restricting the rights and freedoms of these individuals.

Moreover, the rebellion instilled a not-unreasoned paranoia in the South. This paranoia had a significant impact on socio-political discourse for the next three decades.

It influenced how people thought about race, slavery, and the future of the region.

The events of Nat Turner's Rebellion continue to be studied and analyzed today, as they provide valuable insights into the complex and often tragic history of the American South.

As a former literature student who had little to no knowledge of the real Nat Turner, I approached and judged this novel based on the strength of its narrative. Styron constructs a story within a story.

The reader meets Turner as he prepares for trial. After the prosecutor reads Turner's "confessions," Nat gives the reader the background that leads to his rebellion. The story closes as Nat is taken to the gallows.

What I find interesting, again as a student of literature, is the way Styron plays with the notions of story, confession, and motive. Exactly what are Nat Turner's confessions? The document read in court is a transcription of his words to an attorney, essentially his story in someone else's words. It does not take into account any of the complexities that Nat shows us in the story of his life.

He initially realizes he is a slave, hates field slaves, has homosexual experiences and lust for a white woman, and has a fervent belief that God is calling him to kill all the white people in his community. Nat "confesses" to all of these things at some point in his narrative. He feels guilt for one thing, then another.

What is the reader supposed to believe are his crimes, his successes, his failures? The book's somewhat abrupt turn on the final page makes this hard to assess. Ultimately, Nat is unsure what his crimes are, if any. He pleads "not guilty" to the charges of murder and insurrection because he does not feel guilty (except for what he does feel guilty about).

I've read some other reviews and agree that the liberties Styron takes with history are difficult to swallow, especially regarding women. Nat's dedication to physical purity is a major part of the novel, especially when contrasted with his overpowering lust for a white woman. The fact that his wife was erased from the story is unsettling.

If you expect an accurate depiction of Nat Turner's life, it appears you would be disappointed with this book. However, I think it does some things well. It describes how the insanity of slavery damages everyone involved, reveals the carefully constructed layers of rationalization slaves and owners erect in order to live with that insanity, and what happens when those people can no longer rationalize.

This is a powerful novel about the evils of slavery and one important man's journey through our history. That said, it does have problems that I will let more qualified historians deal with.

In general, I'm not a fan of taking true events or people and adding fictional elements to create a more engaging read. However, this book takes it to the extreme. From my limited knowledge of history, not much is known about Nat Turner to begin with. But William Styron seems to ignore what is known and creates a new Nat Turner. And many of the details he adds are rather strange.

Why is the actually married Nat Turner now single and celibate, yet angry about it? Why does he release his sexual tension on Saturdays only to repent on Sundays? Why does he have a sexual encounter with a boy he is religiously "mentoring", and all is well because the boy supposedly enjoys it? Why does he repeatedly express his obsession with white women's legs and thighs? Are these invented details really helping to flesh out the Confessions of Nat Turner?

William Styron is writing in the first person from Nat Turner's perspective about racial issues. But I'm not sure he truly understood the feelings of being a slave. Why does this Nat Turner have such disdain for all other black people? The book quotes him as saying, "These simple black people... cared nothing about where they came from or where they were going... Like animals they relinquished the past with as much dumb composure as they accepted the present, and were unaware of any future at all. Such creatures deserved to be sold, I thought bitterly, and I was torn between detestation for them and regret that it was too late for me to save them through the power of the Word." Why are most of the other black people in the book portrayed as, well, idiots? Nat Turner isn't.

The limited true details about Nat Turner's family and home situation are also mangled for no good reason. His previously strong mother is turned into a mindless woman, and the father he knew suddenly becomes a complete unknown. Why distort this? Why say he was a house servant when he wasn't, and build the story around that? This Nat Turner has two owners where he is a house servant, and he seems quite content with his living situation.

With the first owner, he claims he doesn't feel like a slave and has heart-to-heart conversations with him. At one point, the owner apologizes profusely for selling some slaves, explains his reasoning, and Nat Turner ultimately sympathizes to some extent. When leaving, Nat grieves and says, "To part from a man like Marse Samuel, whom I regarded with as much devotion as it was possible to contain, was loss enough; it seemed almost insupportable to say good-bye to a sunny and generous household which, black though I was, had cherished me as a child and despite all - despite the unrelenting fact of my n*****ness..."

The second owner is less friendly, but Nat remains a house servant and has "occasional low chores [he's] compelled to do." Nat is then sold to a third owner, told he will not be getting his freedom at age 25, and whipped. He immediately hates and wants to kill all white people. He is whipped when initially sold and then never again. While time passes, Nat describes, "never to my recollection was I driven beyond endurance" and "it would be hard to describe the serenity I was able to attain" when discussing the time he spends in his private area. He's angry, but again it seems life is okay. Huh? And his last "home" before the rebellion was not one of "total leisure" but was "all in all in the most free and comfortable". He is "occupied at chores which, happily, exercised [his] ingenuity rather than [his] back." He is actively planning the step-by-step rebellion at this point, with God's guidance.

In my opinion, William Styron should have just created a completely fictional character. Even though we know this is a work of fiction, if people read it without researching the real Nat Turner, they will walk away with incorrect "facts" or impressions. And this is even ignoring the eerie extras that fall into the "unknown" category.

In the forward, William Styron writes that his motive for writing this book is to explain Nat Turner's motives for mounting his rebellion. But I don't see how this book accomplishes that at all. It just portrays Nat Turner as a very disturbed person. While I don't condone the carnage of his rebellion, this book perhaps focuses more on what emotions and background could cause a relatively content person to lead such a deadly rebellion. It almost completely ignores what could drive a relatively average slave to such extremes. The Nat Turner portrayed in this book is implied to be racist against black people, who was basically okay with his lifestyle (except for his sexual issues that were oddly intertwined with his religion)... but then went on to lead a slave rebellion. Does that make any sense?

I read this because it was the 1968 Pulitzer Fiction winner and on Time Magazine's 2005 list of All-time 100 Novels. But I have to say, it left a bad taste in my mouth.

The positive aspect is that William Styron is a strong writer. I might have been willing to read something else by him (completely unrelated to history, of course) if I didn't have such a negative first impression. I also did some real research on Nat Turner and the historical effect of his rebellion just to get the taste of this book out of my head, which was a decent side effect. But the negatives far outweigh the positives. Everything else about this book just didn't work for me.

This book, which was published in 1967 during the era of black power and the civil rights movement, was initially a huge success, winning the Pulitzer Prize. However, it soon faced significant controversy.

I had forgotten about this over the years. How could a rich, white, southern man write about the experience of a black slave?

Soon, a group of African American writers attacked the book, accusing Styron of distorting history, co-opting their hero, and demeaning Turner by giving him love for a young white woman who was one of his victims. They saw Styron as usurping their history, similar to how white people had usurped the labor and lives of their ancestors.

The white populous had their own views on the Turner rebellion. Some, like the one quoted, believed that such rebellions were rare and doomed to failure due to the supposed inferiority of the Negro character.

Despite the controversy, the book contains useful bits of knowledge. For example, it was illegal for slaves to read, but there were ways around this, such as the labeling of spices and ingredients in the pantry.

One section of the book that sticks with me is about Nat Turner's plantation failing and his promise of being freed at 25. The writing is powerful, but it's the reader who has the power to recreate the scene mentally.

Another aspect is Nat's description of assuming the attitude and demeanor of a slave, which is difficult for a white male like me to evaluate. Styron was criticized in the 1960s for allegedly failing in this task.

I am sometimes motivated by political correctness, and this may be one of those occasions. The controversy this book created in 1968, when it won the Pulitzer Prize and was criticized by Black writers, has an impact on me.

I am a white male who has benefited from unearned privileges, and I am embarrassed by this. I remember my privileged position as a college student in 1968.

Virginia, where the story takes place, has its own ignominious history in the struggle for black racial and civil rights. Nat Turner and William Styron are both part of that history.

The Afterword titled "Nat Turner Revisited" in the Kindle Edition, written by Styron in 1976, is both insightful and inciting. I find the controversy surrounding the book almost more interesting than the book itself.

I have several failings, including leaning towards the most recent thing I've read or heard in a debate. In this case, my last word is Styron's Afterword.

However, I still need to read the 1968 book "William Styron's Nat Turner" in which ten black writers severely criticize Styron. I also plan to read the interesting exchange of Letters to the Editor online from the NY Review of Books.

I'm not sure if it's fair to grade this book based on the controversy it created, but it was on my mind as I read. I downgraded the work from four to three stars, subject to revision based on what I learn about the controversy in the future.

With few exceptions (OK one really), I am always disappointed and let down by historical fiction.

The lone exception was "Burr" by Gore Vidal, which was great because so little is actually known and documented about Aaron Burr.

"The Confessions of Nat Turner" started out promising for the same reason. Nat Turner led the only large-scale slave rebellion in the US during the 1830s in Virginia. The only historical account is a 7000-word confession transcribed by a court-appointed attorney (who was himself a slave owner).

You figure this to be the type of story historical fiction is meant for, flushing out the gaps of the historical narrative with some well thought out and well-researched filler that can give the reader an idea of what probably happened.

Mostly this work succeeds in doing just that, but there are two plot-lines that I just can't stand and that also happen to be the most fictional and least based on fact.

The first is the enlightened plantation owner that educates Nat as a child. I can't stomach the stereotype, and it turns out to be completely fictional. The tidewater area in Virginia did not have plantations, so Nat more than likely spent his whole life on a farm with one or two other slaves. He probably learned to read and write much differently than described.

The second plot-line concerns Margaret Whitehead, who Nat Turner actually confessed to killing (the only one he confessed to killing in fact). Margaret was a young seminary student who was the daughter of a preacher and landowner. Styron goes the route of assigning a motive of sexual frustration and lust for Nat's murder. I just think that was way too stereotypical and easy. I would have preferred something a little more creative there.

In the end, it was a good read but still disappointing.

William Styron's The Confessions of Nat Turner


THE GATHERING

After which, all the members of the congregation take their seats. They gather in this place, a solemn and expectant air filling the space. The anticipation is palpable as they wait for what is to come next in this religious service.

THE LECTIONARY


First Reading

On Being Brought from Africa to America


'Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,

Taught my benighted soul to understand

That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:

Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.

Some view our sable race with scornful eye,

\\"Their colour is a diabolic die.\\"

Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain,

May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.





Phyllis Wheatley, a slave poet, 1753–1784

This powerful poem by Phyllis Wheatley speaks volumes about the experiences and hopes of a slave. It touches on themes of mercy, enlightenment, and the unjust discrimination faced by the black race. As the words are read aloud, the congregation is likely to be moved and沉思. The reading sets the stage for further exploration and reflection within the context of the religious gathering. To be continued...

Start to finish this book just never engaged me. Objectively speaking, it is clearly very well-written. The premise is indeed intriguing. It attempts to get into the mind of an actual historical figure about whom little is known other than the bare facts of the insurrection he attempted to lead. However, I just never got into a rhythm with this book.

One reason that occurred to me partway through was the very scarce dialog. For pages and pages, we are presented with the interior monologue of Nat and/or the omniscient narrator, with hardly a word of dialog. To me, this gave the book more of the feel of an essay than a narrative. It lacked the back-and-forth exchanges that often bring a story to life and make the reader feel more involved. Without the dialog, the pacing seemed a bit off, and it was difficult for me to fully immerse myself in the story.

Phew! OK. Here we go...

First off, I read this book simply because it won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction. I have made a commitment to myself to read all the Pulitzer fiction winners, regardless of whether they are good, bad, or ugly. That is the sole reason I picked up this book. I didn't choose it because it was controversial in its day, nor because of the theme, nor because of any prior preference for the author (whose other works I haven't read). That's my qualifying preamble! I should also mention that I read the 25th Anniversary edition published in 1992 by Vintage Press. This gave me the opportunity to read the afterward written by Styron himself in 1992, which directly addressed the controversy that had surrounded the book within a year or two of its publication. If you have read the novel but, for whatever reason, did not read this postscript by Styron, I highly recommend you do so. It is quite illuminating and, by re-engaging the controversy, it invites a new round of thinking about it, informed by our modern, 2018 sensibilities regarding the craft of fiction-writing, political-correctness, identity appropriation, white-splaining, intersectionality, and multiculturalism. It's truly interesting fodder for the critical race theory mill! I have to admit that I was completely unaware of the controversy surrounding the book (maybe that says something about me or my cultivated literary background, which could potentially be problematic and is something I need to think about and am willing to honestly consider and confront). However, I'm glad that I went into the reading of this book without the clutter of the controversy in my mind, because I can now say that my take on the book is purely and simply my own unfiltered and unconditioned authentic reaction - for better or for worse.

Anyway... and, secondly, a comment about the craft of fiction-writing and this novel: In my opinion, regardless of any criticism of the novel, whether deserved or not, for the issues underlying the controversy about it, it is clear, at least to me, that Styron is an extremely gifted and talented practitioner of the craft. Just from the perspective of narrative style, plot development, character development, linguistic choice, story-telling conventions, etc., Styron is masterful. I think the book is worthy of a Pulitzer just based on those merits alone. I wouldn't place it among the "great greats," but it's very good and is knocking on the doors of this elite community of writers. I gave it a 4-star ranking, but I'd say that is more like a 4.5-star ranking.

Third, all that being said, I knew from the very first pages that Styron was attempting something extremely perilous and, yes, I believe, ethically problematic as a literary practice. I knew that a white male southern author presenting the story of an historical black male slave who led an insurrection against slavery in the early 19th century from the perspective and voice of this slave was treading on ground that perhaps he didn't have the moral right to. I say this even though I'm well aware of the defense (which Styron himself makes) that this is creative and imaginative fiction. But Styron didn't have to write this novel and could have chosen not to. I mean, it's one thing to develop complex characters who represent different races, ethnicities, classes, genders, etc., within a story (in fact, every author has to do that to some extent, I think), but it's quite another thing altogether to adopt the sole and solitary perspective of any identity not one's own as the defining and authoritative voice of the novel. That's what Styron did, and he did it with some awareness of the problematic nature of it. It's something I would never feel equipped to even attempt to do, let alone feel ethically comfortable in attempting it. So, yes, Styron could have chosen not to write this novel. But he did. And so we have what we have and must assess it in the fullness of that reality, both as a literary work and as a story content and story-telling choice. As for me, I tend to think that if Styron were writing as a 37-year-old author in 2018, he wouldn't have written this novel. His sensibilities would have been different and the times in which he would be writing would have conditioned his writing choices accordingly. But, because he started working on his novel about Nat Turner in 1962 and published it in 1966, I always remind myself to understand his writing choices in the context of the times in which he was writing, which makes his choice more understandable (even if still not really wise and thoughtful).

I do think Styron makes a reasoned defense of his book in the 1992 postscript essay he wrote. And I wonder if what he said in that essay about his book being ignored out-of-hand by black reading audiences still holds true today. I don't know the answer to this, but I'm curious to ask around about it. My hunch is that, even though we live in a somewhat unsettled time regarding what is acceptable or unacceptable expressions of identity, race, and representation in literature and art, there would still be similar critics of his work along these lines today, but that there would also be enough critical openness today to a hearing (or, in this case, a reading) of the novel to not simply dismiss it out of hand. I wonder if we have reached a point where our growing, vibrant, and ever-more-comfortably-accepted multicultural reality has softened the edges around unreflective criticism. Some would say that we live in an age where critical openness is becoming more and more impossible; but I'm not convinced of that. At least, that hasn't been my experience as a middle-aged white academic teaching in a (still woefully inadequate, but ever-improving) multi-ethnic and multi-cultural campus and classroom.

This novel is definitely worth reading, both for its exposure to a gifted fiction writing style and also because of the controversy surrounding it. This book (and Styron's postscript essay about it) would be a great, provocative choice for many modern book clubs.