Lovely

18% Done: The way EPJ structured the story was, lovely...the care he took with the characters, the build up, was so unique and unlike anything I have ever read(or remember reading). Lovely.

I'm giving up on this, hence the one star. I read about 150 pages and set it down. I don't want to take anything away from Jones' efforts to unveil the nuances of slavery, in this case black slave owners. But this book just bored me. I felt guilty, especially since I was reading it for Black History Month and it won a Pulitzer, but Marie Kondo's book has freed me of that guilt. Not for me.

'It worried him that he could not remember their names. Maybe if he had thought of them more throughout his life. He closed eyes and took his parents in his hands and put them all about the plantation where he had last seen them, his mother in his left hand and his father in his right hand. But that did not feel right and so he put his father in his left hand and his mother in his right hand, and that felt better. He set them outside the smokehouse, which had a hole in the roof in the back. /// Stamford set his mother and father down before the cabin they had shared with another woman, and still the names did not come. He left off for a moment to touch his navel and that told him that he had once been somebody’s baby boy, been a part of a real live woman who had been with a real man. He had the navel and that was proof he had once belonged to a mother. In his mind, Stamford took up his parents again and put them in front of the master’s big house, he put them in front of the master and the mistress, he put them in front of the master’s children /// He put them in the fields, he put them in the sky, and at last he put them before the cemetery where there were no names. And that was it: his mother’s name was June, and so he opened his right hand and let her go. His father’s name did not come to him, try as he might to put him all about the plantation. Maybe God had slipped just that one time. Stamford slept, and just before dawn he awoke and said into the darkness, “Colter.”'
...
A beautiful ensemble cast tells a tale of no moral binaries. Each one of these enslaved characters carries the yellowed archival heft of their lives on their shoulders in Edward P. Jones’ remarkable fictionally historic telling.
...
A novel of the impassable gulf between what is enshrined in law and what is right.
...
The Known World follows the Townsends, a free Black family in Virginia who enslave other Black people, and the many stories that radiate from them in an intricacy of spokes and tangles: free and enslaved Black people, the white people who enslave Black people and those who hold some conscientious objection to slavery but who prop it up nonetheless.
...
5/5

(reviewed @longbreadbooks)

Here is a book about black slave owners in the antebellum South! My interest was immediately piqued. On top of that, the book has won all sorts of prizes:
*Pulitzer Prize for Fiction (2004)
*International Dublin Literary Award (2005)
*Anisfield-Wolf Book Award (2004)
*National Book Critics Circle Award for Fiction (2003)
* Hurston/Wright Legacy Award Nominee for Debut Fiction (/2004
*National Book Award Finalist for Fiction (2003)
I knew I had to give it a try.

I am glad I have read it, but to say I like it, would just not be true. It’s OK, so I am giving it two stars.

There is no real central character to the story, because he dies right off the bat. It is 1855 when Henry Townsend dies. He is black. He had been a slave, but his parents had bought him his freedom. He leaves behind no children but a wife, Caldonia, a twenty-eight-year-old educated black woman born free, and his property of thirty-three slaves and fifty acres in Manchester County, Virginia. The book is about the hell that breaks loose afterwards, but really what it is about is life in the South during the antebellum era, about the mindset of Blacks and Whites of this era.

The story is told by an omniscient narrator—who knows how each character thinks, what has happened to all of them in the past and what will happen to all of them in the future. It is this all-seeing narrator that shapes the entire feel of the story. This narrator knows everything, but he is not particularly adept at cogently telling a story. In one sentence you may switch form the present to the future and back again. In the next sentence you flip back to the past. It is easy to become confused. Character upon character is thrown at you, with little tidbits about their lives in the past, present and future. You are given an entire community of individuals—Whites and Blacks, a Native American or two, those who are free and those who are slaves, a sheriff and his deputy. The omniscient narrator is constantly restating who each one is, which is good in one sense, but the flow of the tale becomes jerky. Stop and start, backward and forward and often confusing. Use of the omniscient narrator is pushed to the extreme.

It is kind of nice to have a character or two to guide you through a story. You do not have that here. There are a whole group of characters, characters that are hard to attach yourself to. You do not get close to any one individual. In the afterword the author points out that he wanted to draw characters that were neither all good nor all bad, each one different in their own way. You do get that here, but you fail to feel anything for any of them. What you do get is a strong sense of being one of a large community. You are there, one among many, living in the antebellum South. This does give one a hands-on feeling of life then and there and how people were thinking.

Kevin Free narrates the audiobook. It is simple to follow, the speed is fine and he intonations are well done. The narration performance is good so I have given the narration three stars.

This book demands that you read it slowly and intently. Like eating a huge Thanksgiving dinner, you need to pause and digest before you have the next course. At the outset, the plot seems to be all over the place, bouncing from character to character, telling too many stories, not telling enough and then seeming to tell too much. Ah, but then, you make a little progress and the rhythm begins to assert itself, the stories begin to weave together, the minute details begin to become a diorama, the picture stops being a blur and comes into sharp focus. This isn’t one man’s story, or even the story of one place, this is the story of all men and this is the tale of a world.

This book is not so much about race as it is about the abject insanity and evil of the institution of slavery, wherever it is found, whoever is practicing it. In this system, there are free black masters holding black slaves, some of them well-meaning, but it does not make the practice any less immoral. There are white men who love their black mistresses and the children they bear, but it does not remove the fact that they hold a dominion over them that is not borne of love in any of its guises. There are also individuals who are victims of the system and others who refuse to be victims of the system, even at the cost of their lives.

I loved many of Jones’ characters, notably Augustus and Mildred Townsend. They exemplify what is the best in us. I felt sorry for some of them, like Sheriff John Skiffington, who would like to be better than this society allows him to be, and Caldonia Townsend’s brother, Calvin, who wishes to go to New York so that he will not have to bear witness to the cruelties around him, cruelties he must realized have escaped him only because of a trick of fortune. I despised some of them, and I recognized most of them. The petty and jealous, who must have dominion over someone to feel they have worth; the ungrateful and traitorous, who would turn upon a friend to put some silver in their own pockets; the meek and hopeless, who bow to the yoke and try simply to find a corner in which they are allowed to exist; the defiant and strong-minded, who fight with their last breath because to do otherwise is to prop up the indefensible; all are here.

What I loved most about this novel is its genuineness, its lack of exaggeration or hyperbole, where surely none is needed, its emphasis on the day-to-day injustice of an institution that is accepted as insurmountable or even correct only because it is what is. Edward P. Jones has leveled an attack at the heart of mankind and defied one to imagine what they would have done, what they would have dared to do, in such a place and time.

I'm going to have to rave a bit, because this is one of the best books I've read in the past ten years.

Jones packs in all the historical detail you could want, and of course he's hit on a subject--black slaveowners--that in and of itself is tabloid-sensational. Where lesser writers might lean too hard on the sensational aspect (or rely on it to bolster an otherwise weak narrative), Jones works it into a compelling and powerful story.

What makes it so powerful is a mix of fascinating characters who are woven into a series of overlapping plotlines. For me it's the structuring that is so brilliant (geek alert: I actually diagrammed the time shifts in the chapters as an exercise, to see when and how Jones yoked the whole thing together). This less than linear approach might be frustrating to those who just want things to be straightforward, but stick with it: the shifts provide suspense as well as texture, and they propel more than one storyline at once. They do all come together, trust me.

I also admire the overarching authorial voice in the novel, which certainly leans toward the formal, but also comes across as aware of the history it's grappling with: here and there Jones projects his voice forward for a moment, or seemingly digresses with factual material and research. Again it's all part of the tapestry and the mix, and I also think that the level of narrative awareness (which never disengages long enough to derail anything) adds another layer to the very idea of history--making the whole historical and contemporary both.

And for those of you who can do without all of the above writerly blather (a thousand pardons), you'll find in this book characters who are engaging, ignorant, cruel, earnest, sympathetic, tragic, hopeful, flawed--in short, complicated. Halfway through you'll be fighting off the impulse to skip ahead to learn everyone's fate.

Finally, I'll say that this book isn't perfect--there are aspects of what I've described above that sometimes don't work: narrative turns that do seem pointless digressions, a character or two a bit stereotypical or annoying. No matter. This book aims high, as brilliant works of art do, and the result is nothing short of amazing.

My well-read mother-in-law referred this one to me. Fascinating. Well written. A modern day Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Freed Blacks owning slaves turns many of the justifications for slavery on their head, from the inferior black man argument, to God’s disapproval of the race. Touching, depressing, exciting, I couldn’t put this one down. I have yet to reconcile my believe and patriotism in America with the despicable practice of slavery that endured for over 100 years. This is a topic that really intrigues me.

I've never heard of this book, of Edward P. Jones, or of Manchester Country. The latter makes sense because Manchester Country, Virginia is a purely fictional place, the other two, in contrast, are very real and it's a shame I'm learning about them so late.

At first, I thought this book will be a huge challenge to go through, I found Jones' writing terse and dry. But a few chapters in, it really grew on me. Jones has a very unique style, one which immediately projects clarity and intimacy, and a cold, calm evaluation of the effect of time. You feel like you're reading a 400 page epitaph, carved in marble by the most loving hand. I got this edition at my local used bookstore. I was looking for something to get me through the week and a cranky old guy who was working at the store that day told me that somebody just left a Pulitzer Prize winner on his counter and he'll give it to me at a bargain price. I skimmed through the first chapter, read the synopsis on the back and was very intrigued by the premise. A slave that becomes a slave owner, now that is captivating. And it didn't disappoint. The Known World is a stupendous book. It's not a trivial story of slavery with clear demarcation between the good and the bad, instead Jones gives us a perturbing layer cake of all the shades of evil, and all the shades of compassion, which feels somehow more real for all this nuance. I'm not an American and I don't share America's obsession with race. In all honesty, I find it rather vexing and pathetic. For me, as an outsider, "getting ahead" is the essential aspiration of being an American, that is, they aspire to succeed, even if there are casualties, and their ambitions, more often than not, can be color blind. I felt like Jones shared my sentiment. I loved the complexity involved from a moral standpoint. You have black slave owners to white abolitionists whose welfare is dependent on slavery. Jones doesn't take the easy way out and there are no easy answers. Characters behave admirably in some situations, abhorrently in others, but always with purpose. In other words, this novel is not a "one trick pony." There's tremendous richness of character all around.

"The Known World" takes us into a complex narrative that wrestles with the moral complexities and chilling realities of slavery in the United States, specifically zooming into the lives of both black and white residents in antebellum Virginia. Awarding it a solid 4-star rating acknowledges the novel's potent storytelling and rich historical detail while also giving a nod to the points where it may fall slightly short for some readers.

The novel ventures into a frequently unexplored domain within historical narratives about American slavery: black slave owners. Jones crafts a tapestry that is both vast and intimate, exploring the life of Henry Townsend, a black farmer and former slave who becomes a slaveholder himself. The story presents readers with a multitude of perspectives and experiences related to this morally fraught system.

Jones's prose is dense and intricate, with each page demanding thoughtful consideration. The way he interweaves various timelines and characters' lives is impressive, providing a wide-ranging yet deeply personal exploration of how the institution of slavery permeates and corrodes the world it inhabits. His exploration of power, humanity, and morality within the grotesque framework of slavery provides a contemplative reading experience that lingers long after the final page is turned.

Despite the powerful narrative and compelling characters, "The Known World" sometimes risks becoming mired in its own complexity. The narrative is non-linear, frequently shifting between characters and time periods, which, while providing a comprehensive view of the world Jones has created, can occasionally disrupt the flow of the story and disengage the reader. The multitude of characters, each with their own story and struggles, might be seen as both a strength and a weakness, as some narratives might feel cut short or underexplored.

The novel's sprawling timeline and array of characters present a full-bodied view of the period, yet at times, this expansiveness might be seen to dilute the emotional impact of individual storylines. While we are given brief glimpses into numerous lives, the depth of emotional engagement with each character can vary, potentially leaving readers yearning for more from certain stories.

In concluding, Edward P. Jones’s "The Known World" is an indisputably potent piece of literature. Its exploration of morality, power, and humanity within a context that is often unexplored is both thought-provoking and heartbreaking. Despite its narrative complexity potentially being a stumbling block for some readers, the novel’s thematic depth and rich historical detail affirm its place as a vital read for those exploring the dark corners of American history. Thus, a commendable 4-star rating feels apt, appreciating its brilliant aspects while acknowledging the elements that might not cater to every reader’s preferences.

To be honest, when I picked up this book and read the back cover (knowing absolutely nothing about it other than it had appeared on a list of best books of the century so far), my first reaction was "Oh, hell, no." When the first sentences of the blurb were about Black slaveowners, I don't think I'm wrong to have the reaction of "What the hell?" and "no," because that just seems like it could far too easily be a book about how "Black people were responsible for slavery too!" and just...no. Just no.

Note: The rest of this review has been withdrawn due to the changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.

In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook

This was the final assigned reading for my Introduction to Fiction class and it was SO GOOD. The omniscient third-person narrator takes some adjustment, but once you get into the voice, the book is grand. So many incredible characters populate Jones’ fictitious Virginia county and the discussion I’ve had on this book in class has been incredible. When considering the “Great American Novel,” The Known World should absolutely be part of that discussion. — Chris Arnone


from The Best Books We Read In December: http://bookriot.com/2015/12/23/riot-r...

This is one of those books that despite recognizing some skillful and impressive writing, goes under the category of not-for-me. The writer cites Faulkner as one of his influences and something in Jones' style does remind me of that author, admittedly not a favorite. The Known World is set in pre-Civil War Virginia, in the fictional county of Manchester, about which Jones weaves in faux census data and snippets of history.

It begins in July of 1855 at the farm of Henry Townsend, a black man born a slave who is himself a slave owner. It's an unlikely scenario, as Jones himself admits in an interview at the end of the book, particularly since, as he alludes to in the novel, Virginia law didn't allow a freed slave to remain longer than a year in the state, and any who did were subject to being returned to slavery. However, the premise does allow Jones scope to examine the emotional, social and moral complexities of slavery, so I was willing to allow him some latitude.

Ultimately it was the style that defeated me. His book is non-linear and meandering, jumping back and forth through time and different characters, and with touches of magical realism. I think particularly in a novel treating of such a dark subject, it was fatal that I never settled in or was grounded by my sympathy with any one character (and in fact almost every character was repellant in some way), and reading this became more and more a slog, particularly since I found the prose style less than graceful. It's the kind of book where--and right from the first sentence--you have to read and read again trying to parse the meaning.