Another writer would have written a teleplay about the Muse brothers' journey from (literally) dirt-poor beginnings, through involuntary, indentured servitude, and on to their interesting lives as freaks in a myriad of 20th century circuses. But Beth Macy is a journalist, and Truevine is a story that took decades to get to the bottom of. Further, she cares deeply about the people and places in this book. Who should read this book? Part One should be read by every Southerner, descendant of the South, descendants of carpetbaggers, and transplants to the South. The daily venom and institutionalized insults that African-Americans suffered -- and they did suffer -- cannot be guessed. It must be told, and it must be read. So much more insidious than separate water fountains, Macy conveys the scope of the pervasive, poisonous hate and innate/outright meanness that was the Jim Crow era. Anyone who is unable to utter the three words "black lives matter" without qualifying it in some way needs to read about how little they did matter to anyone. As interviewee A.J. Reeves asks Macy in this section, "Are you SURE you want the truth?" More than anything we all need this truth, and Macy delivers, unflinchingly.
Part Two brings circus and freak aficionados the world the Muse brothers were thrust into; a world of sideshows, fellow freaks, and people who could be "bought" by "talent scouts" and traded like Pokémon cards among "managers". Step right up, folks, and get your look at the machinations and subterfuge used in packaging oddities of our species. Partially chronicled through photographs, Macy's research magnifies the clothes, expressions, and body language to get a feel for the path the brothers weaved in and through the insulated circus community. As a former reporter, Macy is equally adept at poking family sore spots and dodging verbal slings and arrows as she learns more of the story, questions a tightly-knit family's lore, and presents evidence suggesting other probabilities.
A fiercely tenacious writer, Macy is an equally ferocious mother, and in Part 3 she paints the portrait of Harriet Muse, the mother who waited (and hustled while waiting) and through sheer force of will snatched her children back from the circus. The legal chess game that ensued was played across decades. Wherever Harriet Muse got those smarts from, the gift was not wasted. Those who enjoy legal yarns and unlikely heroes tilting poles at windmills will not be disappointed. In a book rich with injustices, a victorious underdog prevails.
Part four provides much food for thought as the circus and sideshows travel to entertain societies overseas. Especially interesting is the effect that the war wounded have on England, where seeing firsthand the ravages of war in deformed, injured soldiers makes looking at sideshow freaks for entertainment feel inappropriate. It's a sobering contrast to the antics Macy chronicles in the peculiarities of the performers themselves. The scope of Truevine, like the well worn circus travel routes, eventually ends at a resting place after its exploration of a century of change in these interesting and unusual chapters. That resting place is the loving, protective and attentive care of the family in Roanoke, Virginia. Macy's town. My town. A place where the darkest chapters of history were perpetrated by the real freaks -- the local Ku Klux Klan, and the institution of racism in a very shocking past. Several times, the brothers' caretaker relative reminds us that the brothers came out on top in the end. However this war ended for them, the casualties of that very uncivil war are still among us. This book will have your mind "Musing" on all these aspects and more as you continue to digest its story and scope long after the pleasure of the read is completed.