Manchester County, Virginia doesn’t exist. Never has. After reading The Known World, however, you’d be forgiven if you thought you could take a tour of it’s plantations and slave cemetaries on your vacation to colonial Williamsburg. The complicated pre-civil war Southern society that Edward P. Jones creates feels as real and surreal as any factual history of slavery you’ve read. It was not so much the story of Henry Townsend, a black slave owner, and all the people that his death allows us to meet that engaged me. It was the world, a world where I could taste the soil I might till and the women I might marry and the terrible choices I might be faced with, that put it’s claws in me and refused to let go.
It took me nearly 2 months to finish the book’s 388 pages. It should’ve been a quick read. It is a fascinating place with peculiar problems and characters I cried for on more than one occasion. It should’ve been a quick read but I kept asking myself this question: who would I have been? The slave, toiling away in the field? The overseer, unable to see the world for what it truly was? The freed man, working desperately to free the rest of his family? The smart child, taken under the wing of the rich white slave owner and convinced that there was nothing wrong with owning another human being? The broken black man tortured by his family’s wealth built on the backs of men and women that look just like me? The slave too proud, too strong, too powerful to let another take his freedom? Who would I have been?
Who am I now?
In matters of race, there is always that fool’s point, usually made by a white person (though not always) that asks,”why aren’t you over it, already? Can’t we just let it go?” It is a way to end an uncomfortable conversation. The reasons don’t matter. I know many a person for which the sticky tar baby of race in America is simply a discussion they can’t stick their hands in. It is too difficult. Too raw. Too cloudy to be sure that people will remain friends after an honest chat. The way I feel when I read books like The Known World is my answer. No matter how well-adjusted, how integrated, how loving of my fellow man, how multiculti kumbayah I am, I’m not over it. I can’t let it go.
This fictional world was very real not all that long ago. It’s effects still ripple through our every day. The world I know doesn’t exist without it.
Highly highly recommended.