Visit the book's website at www.otherpress.com/songformyfathers .
Tulane Reading Project 2006
Former Time Paris Bureau Chief and bestselling author Tom Sancton returns to the New Orleans of his youth and the music that shaped and guided his life.
Song for my Fathers is the story of a young white boy driven by a consuming passion to learn the music and ways of a group of aging black jazzmen in the twilight years of the segregation era. Contemporaries of Louis Armstrong, most of them had played in local obscurity until Preservation Hall launched a nationwide revival of interest in traditional jazz. They called themselves “the mens.” And they welcomed the young apprentice into their ranks.
The boy was introduced into this remarkable fellowship by his father, an eccentric Southern liberal and failed novelist whose powerful articles on race had made him one of the most effective polemicists of the early Civil Rights movement. Nurtured on his father’s belief in racial equality, the aspiring clarinetist embraced the old musicians with a boundless love and admiration. In a sense, they became his spiritual fathers and role models. Meanwhile his real father, who had first led the boy to the “mens” and shared his reverence for them, later recoiled in horror at the idea that his son might lose his way in the world of late-night jazz joints, French Quarter bar rooms, and a precarious life on the margins of society. The tension between the father’s determination to control the boy’s destiny and his son’s abiding passion for the music is a major theme of the book.
The narrative unfolds against the vivid backdrop of New Orleans in the 1950s and ‘60s. But that magical town is more than decor; it is perhaps the central player, for this story could not have taken place in any other city in the world. Written several years before Katrina crashed into New Orleans and changed its face forever, Song for My Fathers seems all the more moving in the wake of that cataclysm.
This is a profound and moving adult love story, of a man for his father, his city, the music of that city, and the "mens" with whom he apprenticed in order to learn it. It is a story about race relations, about the human spirit, about family, about memory. It is written with a journalist's eye for detail but with a nice sense of proportion, rhythm, and timing that bespeaks the author's extensive and sophisticated tutelage at the proverbial feet of some of the great jazz musicians of New Orleans. I loved this book from beginning to end and recommend it enthusiastically.
Tom Sancton's Song For My Fathers is a memoir that focuses on Sancton's own life growing up in New Orleans in the 1950s and 1960s in New Orleans, but also on the lives of his parents (and especially his father, Thomas Sancton, a writer whose dreams of publishing a great American novel were frustrated and ultimately unfulfilled, and on the lives of the New Orleans jazz musicians with whom he spent his evenings and weekends learning about music and life. As a memoir, it is powerful in and of itself. Sancton's relationship with his family, friends, mentors and hometown are all evocatively described, with humorous anecdotes, frightening moments, family arguments, and sadness throughout. He describes New Orleans as only a native son could, with all its history, culture, strife, danger, and excitement.
I'm a huge fan of jazz music, and I have to say this book was evidence to me of how much I still don't know. Many of the musicians remembered in this book were vitally important to New Orleans' traditional jazz scene, a scene that I am mostly unfamiliar with. Musicians outside of this scene are almost never mentioned in any capacity at all, and even Louis Armstrong is only mentioned in terms of which the 'mens' had performed with him. In that sense, if you're a jazz fan but you mostly care about the more modern sound (modern here meaning anything after Charlie Parker), you may not get as much out of this book as, for example, Ted Gioia's History of Jazz, or Miles Davis's autobiography. However, this book is an excellent source of information on the second generation of New Orleans jazz, which is one scene in the genre that is often overlooked. I think, though, that even someone with no interest in jazz whatsoever could still enjoy this book. Sancton's descriptions don't rely at all on esoteric music theory knowledge or obscure references to musicians or albums, but instead on his own feelings and interactions with those musicians. I think the power of this book, or part of it, is to take something that might seem very niche - not only is it jazz, but it's New Orleans jazz in particular - and put it in a way that anybody from any background can easily understand and appreciate.
Also a powerful point of this book is its focus on race relations and civil rights, which of course is inseparable both from jazz music and from the city of New Orleans. Sancton's own encounters with racism (not against himself, obviously), as well as his father's lifelong fight for racial equality and sympathy for black intellectuals, are presented with clarity and are mostly free of bias. Of course, no dialogue about race is completely free of points that might be contentious or controversial. Sancton is in his late 60s now, and certain turns of phrase in his writing sound unfortunately dated, but by and large his writing about race is sympathetic, open-minded and honest.
Personally, I got a lot out of this book. I thought it was entertaining, informative, and thought-provoking. I'm sure part of my enjoyment of it came from being a Southerner myself (I haven't been to New Orleans, but I'd love to visit someday) and from being a jazz fan, but I think even folks who don't fall into those categories will find something to enjoy.
Tom SanctonTom Sancton narrates the Other Press book "Song for My Fathers: A New Orleans Story in Black and White". Set against the segregated backdrop of the 50's & 60's Jim Crow era, the book tells a remarkable story of a white kid in New Orleans learning life's lessons not only from his eccentric father but from the many old black jazzmen he befriends at Preservation Hall in the French Quarter. Characters like Sweet Emma and George Lewis, and places like Blandin's Funeral Home, Luthjen's and Central Lockup come to life as a young clarinetist comes of age. Like a jazz funeral, the tale is poignant and celebratory, capturing the music and characters of an era and a Crescent City that has long been buried and passed into legend. Sancton wrote the book after leaving town reluctantly to attend both Harvard & Oxford as a Rhodes scholar, becoming Time's Paris Bureau Chief for over two decades and abandoning "the mens" and the traditional jazz he loved as a teen. He has since returned to New Orleans as of 2008, holding the title Andrew W. Mellon Professor in the Humanities at Tulane.
Anyone interested in the history of jazz or the sustaining legacy of Southern music and culture should pick up this book. Homesick New Orleanians, beware; you will weep reading this book. Beyond being a wonderful portrait of a New Orleans lost to time, this is a remarkable book about fathers and sons. The fathers we're born with and the ones that find us, filling voids we didn't know that we had, and the complications of those relationships. Sancton is a terrific storyteller and this is a fitting tribute to New Orleans, its cultural heritage, and the people who make it the most incredible city on Earth.
Memoir of a white musician and his "apprenticeship" with black musicians while growing up in New Orleans. If you are interested in the city or its music, I would recommend it.
Sancton skirts around what could have been a fascinating story about race in the civil rights era in New Orleans (an already racially fascinating city) but never quite delves in.
As a lover of music, jazz especially, and classic jazz even more especially, this book spoke to me on many levels. Sancton, although largely either indifferent of unaware of the social conventions of the day, crossed many layers of color line in order to learn from the people who were as close as possible to the beginnings of jazz. Whether he was aware at the time or not, it was an incredibly brave thing to do. He tells the story vividly, and it is very easy to put oneself in his place. I would recommend this book certainly to anyone with an interest in New Orleans jazz, but also to historians of the civil rights movement.
The narrative involving his father would ordinarily distract from the rest, but Sancton weaves it in seamlessly, and indeed show his father's importance in both the music arc and the civil rights arc.
For the sake of mentioning it, the Copy that I read is an advance uncorrected proof. I noted several printing glitches, but only one editing error quite near the end. No matter.
A tender account of growing up in New Orleans. Scranton had an extraordinary upbringing; he depicts his love for jazz and the « mens » he learned to play the clarinet and with whom he played at the Preservation Hall, funeral parades, and other venues with affection and honesty. Of particular interest is his take on race relation, the prejudice from all sides, and shows how exceptionally privileged he found himself-a white teenager- to be accepted by these older black musicians. He points to the importance of remembering the origin of New Orleans Jazz style and aim to preserve their legacy. He doesn’t shy away from recounting his difficult relation with his father and his attempt at understanding him better as he enters middle age. New Orleans and jazz remain an irresistible pull and Scanton eventually returns to his roots after two decades. Many passages are compelling, his insights and honesty make this memoir a love song to a town, the fathers who taught him and generously shared their love of jazz as well as the father who brought him up.
I am a frequent visitor of New Orleans. To me the city is like the old eccentric aunt you love. The music of the men tom mentions here learning from are the frequent sounds that fill my house. The new generation he mentions fill our nights out. Written before Katrina this isn't a "defend Nola" book. But it should be. It's a memoir of a man and his city. The quintessential American city, a city proud of its unique heritage and offerings, a city hopeful of its future where race and color mean less than shared experience, passions, understanding. The book itself is a memoir so understand that. It reads as one. Not an adventure story. As a memoir it is well written, if perhaps not as cinematically so as say McCourt's work. But it is honest, real, eccentric, and accepting. It is New Orleans. Well worth a read. And a gem in preserving American culture.
Great memoir of a boy coming of age through the traditional jazz revival of the 1950's in the french quarter, New Orleans. Sancton's memory is vivid, and his recollections of the jam sessions and conversations with the musicians, is a wonderful glimpse into a world where music is the savior for all of "the mens." Sancton shows how black folks survived through hard ships by embracing the music, feeling those second line moments, by being included as one of them. The musicians, who tell their stories and emotions through the songs. Sancton is also able to tie the new orleans of the past, mid to late 1800's when slavery was still prevalent all the way to post katrina and events bringing Tom back to New Orleans. if at all interested in the traditional jazz scene and its revival in the 1950's, check out this book!!
Not especially well-written, but this memoir captures a spectacular place at a crucial time, when the New Orleans jazz scene began evolving to adapt to tourism and the old way remained dedicated to its craft. Because of that, this memoir is part history lesson. The author as a character is merely a vehicle in which the reader gains access to a collection of bygone musicians who are worth remembering.
A warm, loving tribute to New Orleans and to "the mens" who taught and inspired Sancton as a musician. Tom's story really brings the culture of Preservation Hall and of the spirit of music and life alive. It is also a brilliant and sensitive portrait of Tom's parents. I was very taken with his memories, so sharp and so considered, and kept wishing I could revisit my childhood and teen years with the same clarity.
Loved this book. I like how the author wrote about people he very much admired and got to play music with and with very little emphasis on race or it being a book about overcoming racial biases. It was just a great book on the admiration of the people he played with and the way they helped him with his own music.
Tulane choice for 2006, memoir of Sancton’s childhood growing up as son of middle class liberal learning from and playing with jazz greats including George Lewis at Preservation Hall night after night throughout highschool. Wonderful period piece.
There' a good story in there somewhere but the chapters and even the paragraphs seem to have been randomly shuffled. There is redundancy.He thanks an editor but my guess is that he thought he knew better and didn't follow their advice. Too bad.
I read this days after visiting Preservation Hall for the first time. Hearing music at the Hall blew me away and Tom Sancton's memoir captured what I experienced and so much more. This book is a well-crafted history of a time and place with rich detail and compelling personal stories.