Looking for Mr. Gilbert: The Reimagined Life of an African American

by John Hanson Mitchell

Thirty years ago in the attic of an old estate in Massachusetts, John Hanson Mitchell discovered over two thousand antique glass plate negatives. He was told that the photographs had been taken by nineteenth-century ornithologist and conservationist William Brewster, but as a result of a tip from a Harvard research assistant, he began to suspect that the images were actually the work of Brewster's African American assistant, Robert A. Gilbert.
So begins the author's journey. From the maze-like archives at Harvard's Museum of Comparative Zoology to the Virginia countryside and haunts of American expats in 1920s Paris, as well as the rich cultural world of blacks in nineteenth-century Boston, Mitchell brings sharp focus to the figure of Mr. Gilbert, a quiet, unassuming Renaissance man who succeeded as best as he could beneath the iron ceiling of American racism. Told with Mitchell's trademark grace and style, the fascinating story of this "invisible man" deepens our understanding of the African American past as well as the history of American photography.

Genres: History, Biography

288 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2004

About the author

Author of six books dealing with the experince of place and natural history. Most recent book is The Paradise of al These Parts: A natural history of Boston (Beacon Press 2008).

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Reviews

[Hannah · Rating 1 out of 5]

Is there a good reason for me to write a rant review of this book published two decades ago by an eighty-year-old man? No. Am I going to do it anyway, because I feel like I am going insane? Yes.

In my wildest dreams, I could not imagine a worse book about William Brewster, Robert Gilbert, and their contributions to American ornithology. Mitchell is a woefully terrible researcher at best and purposefully disingenuous at worst, something I can attest to as the person currently cataloging the glass plates that inspired him to write the book. Even if you didn't have this incredibly specific background knowledge, however, you would probably still be able to tell something was up because he contradicts himself frequently. His main thesis is that Gilbert, rather than Brewster, took all 2,000 photographs in the Mass Audubon collection, which he then amends later on by claiming that Brewster only took the "bad" ones. Mitchell cares more about his "discovery" of Gilbert's accomplishments than he does about presenting an accurate and compelling account of his life.

Multiple times during the book, Mitchell devolves into describing the people walking past him in Boston, Cambridge, or Paris, a decision that he never explains and which mostly provides opportunities for him to resort to random misogyny and racist stereotypes. He openly mocks mental illness and completely mischaracterizes Boston marriages. I wasn't expecting a book written twenty years ago to be perfect, but I was expecting it to be at least a little considerate of the groups it chooses to discuss.

To promote Gilbert as a singular artistic genius, Mitchell feels like he must diminish the accomplishments of Brewster and his immediate circle. This makes me deeply sad. Brewster and Gilbert wrote to each other with so much tangible affection and their work is strengthened, not weakened, by their collaboration. If you want a book with a compelling combination of biography and autobiography, read Why Fish Don't Exist by Lulu Miller instead. If you want to learn more about Brewster and Gilbert, read their contemporary obituaries.

[Marjorie Bradley · Rating 2 out of 5]

started strong but then bogged down. By the end it read like fiction.