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John Henry: Roark Bradford's Novel and Play

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Roark Bradford's 1931 novel and 1939 play dealing with the legendary folk-hero John Henry (both titled John Henry) were extremely influential in their own time but have long been unavailable or extremely hard to find. In this unique collection, Steven C.Tracy has joined Bradford's seminal works in a new critical edition to help contextualize both the novel and play, making these vital texts widely available again for scholars of folklore and African American literature.

This new volume includes an expansive introduction that explores Bradford's life and work, critical responses to the novel and play, and a survey of John Henry's pervasive influence in folk, literary, and popular culture. It also features a wide array of supplementary materials, including a selected bibliography and discography related to Bradford and John Henry; transcriptions of a number of folksong texts and recordings available during the 1930s; and a chronology of the lives of both Bradford and Henry. As Tracy's introduction makes clear, such a consideration of Bradford--set in the context of writers, both black and white, drawing upon African American folklore and using dialects along with stereotypical and non-stereotypical portrayals--is long overdue.

In pairing Bradford's two treatments of the quintessentially American story of John Henry, Tracy has provided the definitive edition of two classic American texts, and in so doing, he provides a welcome opportunity to reflect on the various paths by which African American traditions have infiltrated the cultural mainstream.

224 pages, Hardcover

First published October 27, 2008

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Profile Image for Alexandra Harmon.
42 reviews1 follower
September 27, 2014
A much wordier version of this review can be found on my blog.

There are some weird, dated aspects to this book that make it hard to read. Besides the racism, I mean. And the dialect, which gave me a headache.

The characters have this strange tendency to answer direct questions in song lyric form. It’s great that Bradford wanted to cash in on a Broadway adaptation, incorporate actual folksongs into his novel, but the concept…doesn’t really translate so well to the printed word.

Also, these characters do a lot of cocaine. Doesn’t make it any harder to read, just thought I’d throw it out there.

Also also, “put my shoes under the bed” is my new favorite sex euphemism.

etting those serious and sundry issues aside, honestly, …I loved this book. I don’t know if credit should go to Bradford or the original oral storytellers (probably a little of both), but it is a truly compelling tale.

The crux of John Henry’s character arch is trying to flesh out what it means to be a “real man.” He brags constantly about his external trappings of manliness — height, strong muscles, women fawning over him — but he is plagued by the thought that there must be more to it than that.

An implied part of this conflict, one I’m not sure that Bradford was even aware of, is what it meant to be a black man. Society shuts him out of the things that white men consider “masculine:” money, power, prestige. He even tries to fake the wealth part with fancy clothes, but realizes that that is just as empty as any other external sign of masculinity.

John Henry’s struggle comes to a head with what he sees as his greatest weakness: his hopeless passion for the woman who continually emasculates him. Society tells him that a real man can keep his woman in line, or just forget her and move on to the next, but his heart is going all Brokeback Mountain on him. In one of the many poignant Julie Ann/John Henry scenes in the novels, he slaps her, but, with tears running down his cheeks, admits, “I’d druther lose my big right arm den to hurt you jest a little.”

It’s not the (cotton-bailing, in this version) machine that beats him in the end. Rather, he goes into the contest because he both has something to prove yet nothing left to lose. He is finally able to “lay down his burden” — the burdens of painful love and of endless toil without purpose — through death.

Final verdict: To this day, this is the only fleshed-out John Henry story written for an adult audience. So, I guess that makes Roark Bradford’s the world’s best John Henry novel,* but damn if it couldn’t have been so much better. Check back in five years when I have written an awesome racism- and music interlude- free version.
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