Tomiwa Owolade

Both epic and intimate: The Love Songs of W.E. Du Bois, by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers, reviewed

A multigenerational saga traces the mixed heritage — black, white and Native American — of a single family from the Deep South

The young W.E.B. Du Bois, the black American intellectual referenced in Honorée Fannone Jeffers’s title. [Getty Images] 
issue 05 February 2022

To write a first novel of 800 pages is either supremely confident or crazy. Honorée Fanonne Jeffers, a professor of English at the University of Oklahoma and the author of five poetry collections, now gives us The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois, a multigenerational saga set over two centuries.

It opens in the 18th, with a young black American in search of the Seminole tribe in Florida. Instead, he finds another Native American community in an area of Georgia fabulously named The-Place-in-the-Middle-of-the-Tall-Trees. He calls himself Coromantee, and is embraced by the Creeks. This part of the novel is narrated like a chorus by the collective voice of the community.

The settlement is later stolen and disbanded by a slave-owner named Samuel Pinchard. Known as the White Man with Strange Eyes, he establishes a plantation called Chicasetta. In taut prose, Jeffers conveys the dehumanising effect this has on the black people labouring there under bondage: ‘Tears and sleep were not luxuries cast to slaves.

Get Britain's best politics newsletters

Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.

Already a subscriber? Log in

Comments

Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months

Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.

Already a subscriber? Log in