Charles Stevenson Wright (1932–2008)

Wright is a writer I had never heard of, but when this book came up for $1.99 on the daily Amazon specials, I read about it and took a chance (since I had some Amazon credits for ebooks I had to use.) There is an excellent introduction by Ishmael Reed that tells us about Wright--he wrote three novels, the last in 1973, then published no others before his death in 2008.

The Messenger ****1/2
This is a very realistic, autobiographical story about a black man, born in Missouri, who ends up in show more New York City among a diverse group of the types of characters you find in novels like this about New York! You know what I mean. This book, while not as hopeless as Hubert Selby, and not as densely written, sparkles with insight and a bit of dark humor. In the narrator's relationship with his Grandma, it also succeeds in touching the reader's heart. Some may be turned off by the transvestites, the prostitutes, the gay sex (not explicitly described), the drug taking, etc. Such readers would be missing the point--and missing out on some very good writing. You can finish this short novel in one or two sittings, and you won't regret the time spent. If you're living in comfortable circumstances, maybe you'll appreciate them a bit more. On the other hand, as miserable as the narrator is at times, he does have some interesting experiences that most of us will never have.

The Wig ***1/2
After getting his hair relaxed, the narrator tries to find a new career. Perhaps in singing, perhaps in a chicken suit. Lots of oddball characters as in The Messenger, but the whole book has sort of an off-the-wall randomness about it that is mostly pleasing but wears thin a bit toward the end. Quite different in tone from The Messenger, however.

Absolutely Nothing to Get Alarmed About ****
By no stretch of the imagination should this be called a novel. It is more of a diary, although I'm sure it's not all strictly true. The book is a combination of stories of dead end jobs, explicit sex, trenchant observations of New York City life during one of its darkest periods--or maybe just the author's darkest period. Most of it is fascinating, however, and almost all is very well written. The mystery is why this is the last thing Charles Wright published. Throughout, there are references to trying to write a novel--obviously not this book--but I guess it proved too much for him. We should at least be grateful for what he left us. It is a strong, memorable voice. show less

Not exactly a novel, more like a string of unrelentingly dark vignettes. Beautifully written, though.