I first heard of Colson Whitehead (what a name!) from from my favourite podcasts hosts who were reading ads for The Underground Railroad. Honestly, I wasn’t interested in reading a story about enslaved people. My views on that sort of narrative have since changed but, generally, I find it difficult and, frankly, boring to read. So, when The Underground Railroad won the Pulitzer Prize I barely took notice, and again when I saw The Nickel Boys spread out in prime position at my favourite local bookstore, I hardly bat an eye. In fact, I wondered and frequently made the joke that I didn’t know what a Nickel Boy was and why I should care.
Reader, I humbly come before you today, my heart full of lament and regret for my misplaced skepticism, for The Nickel Boys will be remembered as one of the most magnificent pieces of literature I have ever consumed. Based on a series of true stories and histories, Whitehead weaves a brutal tale of the Jim Crow south (Florida) and incarceration with moments of exquisite tenderness. The brutality happens quickly, the pain never fades but is also never in the foreground. The softness —the ice cream, the orange sodas, the laughter between friends, these are the moments upon which Whitehead lingers. Whitehead speaks of the books protagonists, plural, Elwood and Turner, but it’s difficult to explain the unevenness with which they are portrayed, and yet the ways in which they are entangled. I can’t and shouldn’t say anymore than that. Whitehead does that thing I love, too, where he shares the sources he consulted in researching for this text —it’s truly incredible what these boys suffered at the hands of the state.
I was especially surprised to learn that this is Whitehead’s ninth book. Not only am I looking forward to reading The Underground Railroad, but some of his earlier novels, including The Illusionist. In the meantime, I’ll be patiently awaiting the accolades to be bestowed upon The Nickel Boys.