I Am Not Sidney Poitier by Percival Everett
I can’t believe after writing 17 (!) books, I had never read Percival Everett. Where have I been?? What else have I been reading?? And why?? I know I’ve taken myself somewhat out of the literary loop, but, I was really embarrassed to not have read any of his books or, worse, had ever heard (gasp)* of him. Shameful, yes, I know. Fortunately, after reading I Am Not Sydney Poitier I no longer have to admit that.
I Am Not Sydney Poitier tells the story of a boy named Not Sydney Poitier who just happens to look a lot like Sydney Poitier. When his mother dies, he goes to live with Ted Turner and has to struggle with his identity of being Not Sydney**. While I Am Not Sydney Poitier is about Not Sydney’s coming of age, it’s also about race and class, which transcends it from being considered a ‘coming-of-age’ novel.
The best part about this book was that it made me laugh. It’s been a while since a book made me laugh out loud. A few times, I thought to myself: Should I be laughing at this? Everett’s pointed satire always seemed to answer Yes! Here’s a bit of a conversation between Ted Turner and Not Sydney (who Ted Turner calls Nu’ott):
‘You know where the name of the Ouija Board comes from, Nu’ott?’ Ted asked. ‘It’s from the French and German words for yes. Could have easily been called the non-nein. Of course that just one theory. There are probably many. I find it simply strange that the skin they pack sausages in is edible. Edgar Cayce thought they were dangerous.’
‘Sausages?’
‘No, Ouija Boards. Why would Edgar Cayce care about sausages? Maybe he did. He was a weird dude. And sausages are everywhere.’ Ted looked at his bare feet at the end of his chinos. ‘Let me ask it a question. Why can’t the Democrats come up with decent slogans?’
‘I think that might be a long answer,’ I said.
‘My point exactly. Republicans run around chanting ‘America, love it or leave it’ and ‘Freedom isn’t free.’ ‘
‘The board can’t handle that,’ I said.
‘We ought to market a better one. Pigs are really smart, you know.’
The dialogue made this book phenomenal and perhaps I was so taken by it because dialogue is something that I have trouble writing; but, Everett captures idiosyncrasies and eccentricities, which seem accentuated around the unsure Not Sydney, who often just flows along with the strong personalities that surround him.
Everett’s characters stand out. Since this is the first book I’ve read of Everett’s, I don’t know if that’s his style – to create strong characters and let them carry the book – but it works brilliantly. Not surprisingly, Not Sydney is not the most interesting character. The supporting cast: his late mother and his guardian, Ted Turner, and a Percival Everett makes a cameo, too, help to define Not Sydney by being, well, what he is not. Of course, that may be obvious when the main character is trying to make an identity for himself; but, I rarely felt attached to Not Sydney but I was able to completely sympathize with him.
*That is certainly enough parenthetical exclamations for one post.
**Having a strange name is something I can relate to. With a name like Season, it is easy to feel how much simple words can be part of an identity – there are too many associations. When your name is a noun, like mine, you have to compete with those associations, particularly at introductions. I have often wished for a more common name but then realized I couldn’t be named anything else. It’s who I am.