A risk one always runs by reading an old book is that there may well be some cringeworthy dialogue. Knowing that, I plowed on, at least for a while. Here's the breakdown of this boring yet incredibly offensive literary disaster:
1. It's 1878. Nephew of dubious employment potential visiting his uncle, Hagar, and Hagar's daughter, his cousin. Spends some time reading.
2. Yellow fever comes to town.
3. Hagar has rental properties, mostly to Black folks. He is rumored to have a "hoard" of cash somewhere, probably in his house.
4. It's hot, which makes everyone testier as the recommendation is to close up the house at night to avoid the fever.
5. MUCH dialogue about the frail little cousin and how she needed to leave, now.
6. She refused to leave unless her father left.
7. Recycle # 5 and 6 ad nauseum, with some confusing promises to leave and then the reneging of those promises, or denials that they'd ever taken place.
8. The Black people are portrayed as simultaneously stupid, lazy, and yet a giant threat to anyone white.
9. Endless denigrating of Black people with the N-word. Endless. It was disgusting to the degree that I not only didn't finish the book, I tore it up into small pieces so no one else ever would read the copy I'd purchased.
10. In the end, (yes, I did look to see if there was possibly anything redeeming in the finale before the shredding, but nope) the uncle dies, and what could make this even more horrible? The cousins take off with the hoard they found and end up getting together. Conjugally. What a surprise.
I guess this author was a muckraking journalist, but he was obviously only concerned with social injustices against people with all the advantages. I wonder what his political party would be today?
