Everybody Knows What Time It Is: But Nobody Can Stop the Clock

by Reginald Martin

The future South is not what it used to be. In the year 2020, when no one can see clearly, three of the South's children find themselves embroiled a twisted tale of music, murder, sex . . . and history.

177 pages, Paperback

First published October 1, 2010

Reviews

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

So this is a pleasant surprise of a book, one I picked more or less by chance from the new book wall at the library, and I'm very glad I did.

It's definitely got that vibe of being a "big black bildungsroman" novel, the way that Native Son, Invisible Man, My Amputations, The Intuitionist and others play out this long term conversation whereby the story of the narrator takes the pulse of black culture more generally. In this iteration, that means a a semi-famous R & B singer, who along with a white professor of "Afro" literature and culture tries to find some buried treasure centered on the site of an ante-bellum masnion. This, by the way, is the Southern accented version of this story-- a fair amount of talk about how the South is the deep spiritual home of the "Afro" people, but also some interesting threads about the originary black cultures of what comes to be known as Egypt. It's also got elements of a contemporary love story, one between our independent singer and a self-made African-American woman and architect-engineer, a relationship that owes as much to sweaty R and B as it does to any relationship I've ever known. The novel is delivered in a series of voices, all of them hip-swerving and full of brio, even when engaging in some pretty academic discussions. It's a fun read, on the level of content, writing, and idea, a rich dish of good stuff and a lot more than I'd hoped for.

It's not a perfect novel, of course: the plotting is a little ridiculous-- I mean, I understand it's not meant to be realistic, but it's also not one of Martin's strong suits. At times, all the voices sound the same, which maybe is a problem-- he does this voice so well, but I think it has limits and I wish he tried to spread it around more. And parts of the ending are, surprisingly, underplayed, in a novel that otherwise swings for the bleachers. Maybe Martin felt like he needed to pull back at the end, but the concluding strophe, about the restoration of the diasporic peoples, felt significant to me, but also went by in a way I almost didn't notice.

Those criticisms aside, this was a really satisfying read, and it makes me want to take more chances. That can't be a bad thing.

[Notary Tim · Rating 1 out of 5]

Just too ethnic for me.

[Arlene]

I was not familiar with the African American vernacular so I found it difficult to understand.
I skipped pages.