This “inventive, poetic, vulnerable, and sincere” book from an acclaimed author and poet weaves two wrenching personal narratives of recovery and reclamation, spliced with a dazzle of pop-culture (Kirkus).
The Dead Don’t Need Reminding is a braided story of Julian Randall’s return from the cliff edge of a harrowing depression and his determination to retrace the hustle of a white-passing grandfather to the Mississippi town from which he was driven amid threats of tar and feather.
Alternatively wry, lyrical, and heartfelt, Randall transforms pop culture moments into deeply personal explorations of grief, family, and the American way. He envisions his fight to stay alive through a striking medley of media ranging from Into the Spiderverse and Jordan Peele movies to BoJack Horseman and the music of Odd Future. Pulsing with life, sharp, and wickedly funny, The Dead Don’t Need Reminding is Randall’s journey to get his ghost story back.
Julian Randall is a Living Queer Black author from Chicago. He has received fellowships from Cave Canem, CantoMundo, Callaloo, and the Watering Hole. Julian is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize and the winner of the 2019 Betty Berzon Emerging Writer Award from the Publishing Triangle.
His writing has been published in New York Times Magazine, Ploughshares, and POETRY, and anthologized in Black Boy Joy (which debuted at #1 on the NYT Best Seller list), Wild Tongues Can’t Be Tamed, and Furious Flower. Julian has essays in The Atlantic, Vibe Magazine, Los Angeles Review of Books and other venues. They hold an MFA in poetry from University of Mississippi.
Julian is the author of five books across three genres. For adults Refuse (Pitt, 2018), winner of the 2017 Cave Canem Poetry Prize and a finalist for a 2019 NAACP Image Award and the forthcoming The Dead Don’t Need Reminding: In Search of Fugitives, Mississippi and Black TV Nerd Shit (Bold Type Books, May 2024). For younger readers: the Pilar Ramirez duology and the forthcoming middle grade novel The Chainbreakers (all from Holt Books for Young Readers).
It is a little early for a twenty eight year old man to write an autobiography. Though the writing is good the book lacks the substance of an older person's life experience. Much in this book is about television shows, movies and music lyrics hat had meaning to Randall. Awarded for his poetry he spends a lot of time on his depression over the years and his attempt to unearth some of his family heritage in Mississippi. The book is pretty shallow trying to e more profound than it is.
This is an eclectic essay collection written by a young black man trying to make sense of the world he was born into, and obtain answers to longstanding questions surrounding his family, identity, and himself. His search is an odyssey in itself as he sinks into bouts of depression as he grapples with racism, his bi-sexual identity, and the need to belong. The essays are deeply personal; he shares vulnerabilities that are utterly heartbreaking, and humourous/awkward situations from childhood that are at times borderline embarrassing, but relatable in many aspects. The focus of the collection surrounds his great-grandfather’s decision to pass and prosper (for a while) as a white man living and working amongst the Whites in Water Valley, Mississippi. Once discovered, he was confronted by the town’s bigots, only having hours to flee with wife and child (the author’s grandmother) in tow.
Many of the essays intersperse pop culture (rap songs, movie and television series and specific scenes) with episodes of his life where he gains clarity or pivotal life-changing moments leading to an epiphany of sorts. The references are culturally and generationally aligned; so while I could not relate to specific artists, musical lyrics, celebrities (and their infamous antics or outbursts), I understood the significance and impact on him and his viewpoints based on inference and his narrative. I think this could be an impactful offering for someone who has a similar journey or challenges.
Thanks to the publisher, PublicAffairs | Bold Type Books, and NetGalley for an opportunity to review.
I got to the last 60 pages and just gave up. The author was all over the place, and I can't really determine if that's the point or simply how he writes. I understood his method of connecting pop culture songs/shows/movies to his own experiences, but it was not really clear how this connected to the grandfather he kept alluding to. Also, why am I this close to the end but I haven't read one story in detail about his grandfather and Mississippi fugitives or whatever this book signed us on to believe was going to happen. I am a bit disappointed by this read.
Part of me is juggling between a lower rating and its current one, partially because I wanted to know more of his family history. You know, a stated purpose of the book's promotional blurb. After rereading the title, I realized that if that the only element I was angling for, I was missing the entire point of this memoir.
Randall is singing about his egocentric misery, all right. But does he sing. His descriptions of depression and code-switching are real. He's not undercutting that Black nerdiness, he relishes within it. How he weaves the parasocial in a way that I'm sure many of us may feel on some level but won't always have the guts to admit to, especially not in a form that can be seen by the public. Thanks to Randall for spoiling some of the movies and TV shows I've never seen, too. Or music idols I've never listened to (I was never a Kayne fan, sorry). Recommendations of media and a playlist are gems to me. Fascinating wordplays, popping prose, with the poet's eye for making unlikely connections familiar.
I'm curious what an older Randall will consider of this book in ten years. If he will be embarrassed by the pop references he makes, or if he will treasure that painful growing stage of life. What it means to be really alive. I wish for his sake and others that Randall is able to thrive past his thirties. I'd like to believe the joy found in the last ten or so pages continues to burn strong.
Maybe muddled in the middle, yet I enjoyed this powerful collection of essays. I need to look up his performances. He has a compelling voice.
I have never read Randall’s poetry, but I can feel its presence in this memoir. There is a lyricism, a flow, that invites you to keep reading and to follow the story; the use of particular devices, especially repetition and choruses, also stood out to me. I read this book in two sittings, only putting it down the first time because I had to go to work the next day.
Randall’s experiences as a biracial (Afro-Latinx), bisexual man who has suffered from depression and chronic pain are the center of the work because all of those identities inform how he views the world. His discussions of his relationships with Miles Morales and Kanye West and how they reflected his life were powerful, and his search for information on his great-grandfather and how he describes his family, interwoven throughout the book, were like golden threads to tie everything together.
Mr. Randall’s essays on his quest as a transplanted Black bisexual Midwestern writer to dig into his familial roots in the soil of smalltown Mississippi many bloody generations back are by turns reflective and combative, disconsolate and proud, despairing and empowered. Side trips back to his experiences as an undergrad at lily-white Haverford College, and to expound on his definitive tastes (and distastes) in music, movies, and popular culture add meat to the matter, as do fateful encounters with family, friends, foes, and fellow travelers, to help shape the searching man he is today. Albeit aborted and distorted at times, the mission continues. . .
First, I'm most thankful that I like the sound of the author's voice and the way he spoke his work. He had a down to earth cadence to his delivery. I would heavily recommend the audiobook, especially since it's a short one. The essays themselves were written well. I most related with his Spiderman one. I liked the use of retelling the narrative like the Miles Morales films did. I'm not Afro-Latinx, so I didn't relate directly in my identity. It was the feeling he was conveying; that's what I related to.
I'm not a huge fan of nonfiction and memoirs in general, but I'm happy this was an exception. Also, what a beautiful cover this is.
This lyrical work of essays interweaves seemingly disparate topics — like Spider-Man, depression, Rocky, legacy, and Kanye West — into a compelling personal narrative about a young man’s search for information on his family’s past in Mississippi. His writing is lovely (though often overwrought), and his perspective is one that is sorely needed nowadays. As much as we aligned on pop culture and it was insightful to hear about these things from him, it did sometimes feel disjointed within the broader text and took away from the impact of other elements of the work.
I’d recommend this to folks who like “nerdy shit”, Black narratives, and memoirs/personal essays.
Haunting read about race, America, and the myths around the Republic and how there used to be a time when more enlightened leaders regned. Touched on being queer - mostly that the risk of losing those who he loved already was too high so he accepted the love that came w/ being called "faggot" b/c it's similar to the bond over the n-word. I'd need to reread it to confirm.
"I'm tired of sharing parts of myself and being greeted with silence or disrespect." <---Not an exact quote but something that I've been thinking about since I finished the book
I wanted to love this book more but I still just don’t understand him. For it to be a memoir, I don’t feel like I got closer to him or his family. I love the cultural references but I wanted more of a connection. I didn’t understand how it webbed into his main plot. From going to MS to get his MFA to seeing a white man abuse his white gf, it wasn’t clear how this is supportive of his journey to Greenville. It felt like he had a lot to include about his life and his own journey that didn’t have much to do with his journey to find out more about his grandfather.
Julian wrote such a fantastic book about tracing his roots in Mississippi. Such a powerful history about how his grandfather had a good business since he could pass as a White male. Once the town finds out that he really is African American everything changes. He has to leave town or else. Julian writes about his life in college and being accepted by others. I believe that many young college readers will be able to identify with Julian and hope that they will enjoy the book as much as I have.
I'm gonna be honest I don't know if I can explain this one but the writing itself was GORGEOUS. The writing was JUST.SO.GOOD. It was beautiful, evocative, lyrical. Also, this felt smarter than me at times and like I'm not able to appreciate it to it's full potential, but I don't hold that against it. This really moved me at times. I think this is a special book but won't be for everyone. Also, I think if you like Hanif Abdurraqib or Kiese Laymon's writing this could REALLY work for you.
I found this book to be very enlightening. I will admit at times I felt like I was reading another language with the slang/coloquial language used, but overall found the voice used to be very engaging. The way Julian unfolds his story and uses music and TV as a way of processing and finding his voice seemed familiar and relatable. I would definitely read other works by this author in the future.
phew. all the way down to the last line: “until the clouds became a memory and i was finished haunting my own name”. julian is such a beautiful writer. the poetry and layered timelines and rawness coupled with explaining feelings through film/ music references that i sometimes knew but could always find understanding and connection within. i loved this memoir.
I read this book for book club and it wasn’t my favorite! The book was with what I feel was a lot of “filler” I was looking for a dramatic plot or any plot of idea of what the book would be about and was left bored.
I don’t think it helped that I listened to the audiobook but I don’t think I would have been able to sit and read the physical copy of this either!
A beautiful, lyrical memoir of growing up and living life as a queer biracial man who, like so many of us, lives much of his life through the media he watches and listens to. The sections on T-Pain and Kanye are great, but the sections that hit the hardest with me personally were the sections on Miles Morales and, most of all, the section on Bojack Horseman.
I’m not fully sure what I was expecting when I picked this book up. I thought it would be an exploration of black pop culture and the history that informed it. I somewhat got that, but more I just listened to a man trying to reconcile his own history and who he is. I appreciated the efforts that were put in, but don’t know how long it will remain in my memory.
This novel just blew my mind. The writing style, the themes, everything. When the author wrote,"I don't know if I know any Black people who have wanted, truly, to be alive the whole time they've been alive," it brought me to tears. Definitely worth reading.
It was all I could do to finish reading the last third of Julian Randall's "Dead Don't Need Reminding: In Search of Fugitives, Mississippi, and Black TV Nerd Shit." With that book title, Randall should have gone ahead and told the truth and shamed the devil and included the words Blah, blah blah!
I had to read this with small breaks between. The grief is heavy, every word chosen carefully. It punches the air from your lungs. It’s so beautiful it hurts.
I thought this was a history book. It is not it is a series of essays and poetry about mostly black nerd stuff and mental health. So just not my thing.
The Dead Don’t Need Reminding is a journey on what it means to be a Black man in America and a heartfelt love poem to generations past. It was a lovely read! You can read my full review here: https://www.dominicanwriters.org/post...