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The Sport of the Gods
Originally published in 1902, this novel dramatizes the conditions of racial injustice existing in a small southern town
176 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1902
58 people are currently reading
905 people want to read
About the author
Paul Laurence Dunbar
366 books136 followersPaul Laurence Dunbar (June 27, 1872 – February 9, 1906) was a seminal American poet of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Dunbar gained national recognition for his 1896 Lyrics of a Lowly Life, one poem in the collection Ode to Ethiopia. In 2002, scholar Molefi Kete Asante listed Paul Laurence Dunbar on his list of 100 Greatest African Americans.
Dunbar was born in Dayton, Ohio to parents who had escaped from slavery; his father was a veteran of the American Civil War, having served in the 55th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment and the 5th Massachusetts Colored Cavalry Regiment. His parents instilled in him a love of learning and history. He was a student at an all-white high school, Dayton Central High School, and he participated actively as a student. During high school, he was both the editor of the school newspaper and class president, as well as the president of the school literary society. Dunbar had also started the first African-American newsletter in Dayton.
He wrote his first poem at age 6 and gave his first public recital at age 9. Dunbar's first published work came in a newspaper put out by his high school friends Wilbur and Orville Wright, who owned a printing plant. The Wright Brothers later invested in the Dayton Tattler, a newspaper aimed at the black community, edited and published by Dunbar.
His first collection of poetry, Oak and Ivy, was published in 1892 and attracted the attention of James Whitcomb Riley, the popular "Hoosier Poet". Both Riley and Dunbar wrote poems in both standard English and dialect. His second book, Majors and Minors (1895) brought him national fame and the patronage of William Dean Howells, the novelist and critic and editor of Harper's Weekly. After Howells' praise, his first two books were combined as Lyrics of Lowly Life and Dunbar started on a career of international literary fame. He moved to Washington, D.C., in the LeDroit Park neighborhood. While in Washington, he attended Howard University.
He kept a lifelong friendship with the Wrights, and was also associated with Frederick Douglass and Booker T. Washington. Brand Whitlock was also described as a close friend.[2] He was honored with a ceremonial sword by President Theodore Roosevelt.
He wrote a dozen books of poetry, four books of short stories, five novels, and a play. He also wrote lyrics for In Dahomey - the first musical written and performed entirely by African-Americans to appear on Broadway in 1903; the musical comedy successfully toured England and America over a period of four years - one of the more successful theatrical productions of its time.[3] His essays and poems were published widely in the leading journals of the day. His work appeared in Harper's Weekly, the Saturday Evening Post, the Denver Post, Current Literature and a number of other publications. During his life, considerable emphasis was laid on the fact that Dunbar was of pure black descent, with no white ancestors ever.
Dunbar's work is known for its colorful language and use of dialect, and a conversational tone, with a brilliant rhetorical structure.
Dunbar traveled to England in 1897 to recite his works on the London literary circuit. He met the brilliant young black composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor who some of his poems to music and who was influenced by Dunbar to use African and American Negro songs and tunes in future compositions.
After returning from England, Dunbar married Alice Ruth Moore in 1898. A graduate of Straight University (now Dillard University) in New Orleans, her most famous works include a short story entitled "Violets". She and her husband also wrote books of poetry as companion pieces. An account of their love, life and marriage was depicted in a play by Kathleen McGhee-Anderson titled Oak and Ivy.
Dunbar took a job at the Library of Congress in Washington. In 1900, he was diagnosed with tuberculosis and moved to Colorado with his wife on the advice of his doctors. Dunbar died at age 33.
Dunbar was born in Dayton, Ohio to parents who had escaped from slavery; his father was a veteran of the American Civil War, having served in the 55th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment and the 5th Massachusetts Colored Cavalry Regiment. His parents instilled in him a love of learning and history. He was a student at an all-white high school, Dayton Central High School, and he participated actively as a student. During high school, he was both the editor of the school newspaper and class president, as well as the president of the school literary society. Dunbar had also started the first African-American newsletter in Dayton.
He wrote his first poem at age 6 and gave his first public recital at age 9. Dunbar's first published work came in a newspaper put out by his high school friends Wilbur and Orville Wright, who owned a printing plant. The Wright Brothers later invested in the Dayton Tattler, a newspaper aimed at the black community, edited and published by Dunbar.
His first collection of poetry, Oak and Ivy, was published in 1892 and attracted the attention of James Whitcomb Riley, the popular "Hoosier Poet". Both Riley and Dunbar wrote poems in both standard English and dialect. His second book, Majors and Minors (1895) brought him national fame and the patronage of William Dean Howells, the novelist and critic and editor of Harper's Weekly. After Howells' praise, his first two books were combined as Lyrics of Lowly Life and Dunbar started on a career of international literary fame. He moved to Washington, D.C., in the LeDroit Park neighborhood. While in Washington, he attended Howard University.
He kept a lifelong friendship with the Wrights, and was also associated with Frederick Douglass and Booker T. Washington. Brand Whitlock was also described as a close friend.[2] He was honored with a ceremonial sword by President Theodore Roosevelt.
He wrote a dozen books of poetry, four books of short stories, five novels, and a play. He also wrote lyrics for In Dahomey - the first musical written and performed entirely by African-Americans to appear on Broadway in 1903; the musical comedy successfully toured England and America over a period of four years - one of the more successful theatrical productions of its time.[3] His essays and poems were published widely in the leading journals of the day. His work appeared in Harper's Weekly, the Saturday Evening Post, the Denver Post, Current Literature and a number of other publications. During his life, considerable emphasis was laid on the fact that Dunbar was of pure black descent, with no white ancestors ever.
Dunbar's work is known for its colorful language and use of dialect, and a conversational tone, with a brilliant rhetorical structure.
Dunbar traveled to England in 1897 to recite his works on the London literary circuit. He met the brilliant young black composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor who some of his poems to music and who was influenced by Dunbar to use African and American Negro songs and tunes in future compositions.
After returning from England, Dunbar married Alice Ruth Moore in 1898. A graduate of Straight University (now Dillard University) in New Orleans, her most famous works include a short story entitled "Violets". She and her husband also wrote books of poetry as companion pieces. An account of their love, life and marriage was depicted in a play by Kathleen McGhee-Anderson titled Oak and Ivy.
Dunbar took a job at the Library of Congress in Washington. In 1900, he was diagnosed with tuberculosis and moved to Colorado with his wife on the advice of his doctors. Dunbar died at age 33.
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October 25, 2015
Lies, secrets, injustice, madness, sadness, gladness, and finally the will to just continue on is the story of Fannie and Berry Hamilton. The couple survived slavery and emancipation to settle for what they thought was a good master and life. To their dismay, they find out differently. In the end for whatever reasons for the "Gods" that sit on high, this beautiful couple became just another couple of Negros. May we all find our place in life.
Quote:
In other words, what divides the one from the three, the one from the ten, what singled out Paul Laurence Dunbar, was a whim of the gods.
That he would be convicted and sentenced was as far from possibility as the skies from the earth.
"I love her too well to marry her and make of our devotion a stale, prosy thing of duty and compulsion. When a man does not marry a woman, he must keep her better than he would a wife. It costs. All that you gave me went to make her happy."
Quote:
In other words, what divides the one from the three, the one from the ten, what singled out Paul Laurence Dunbar, was a whim of the gods.
That he would be convicted and sentenced was as far from possibility as the skies from the earth.
"I love her too well to marry her and make of our devotion a stale, prosy thing of duty and compulsion. When a man does not marry a woman, he must keep her better than he would a wife. It costs. All that you gave me went to make her happy."
December 20, 2025
A Pioneering Novel By A Great African American Poet
Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872 -- 1906)is best remembered as a poet. He wrote in both dialect and formal English. His famous poems include "We wear the mask", "Sympathy", which includes the line "I know why the caged bird sings", and "Frederick Douglass". Dunbar wrote prolifically during his short life, with an output that included essays, journalism, plays, short stories as well as poetry. Dunbar was also a novelist. His final effort in this form "The Sport of the Gods" (1902) remains an impressive work, a minor classic of American literature.
Dunbar's novel describes the fate of an African American family, the Hamiltons, which is forced to move from its home in the deep South (the particular State is not named) to New York City. The Hamiltons had seemingly achieved a degree of success and stability in the post-Civil War South. The father, Berry, had worked as a butler for a prosperous plantation owner, Oakley, for many years. Berry had lived frugally, and managed to save money. His wife, Fannie, also had a good job working as a housekeeper for the Oakleys. The couple had two children, Joe, 18, a barber to white people who had become a dandy, and Kitty, 16, her mother's darling. The peaceful life of the family comes to a startling end when Oakley falsely accuses Berry Hamilton of stealing. Berry is sentenced to ten years in prison. His family is ostracized by whites and blacks alike. Fannie, Joe, and Kitty move to New York City to find a new life for themselves.
The heart of this novel lies in Dunbar's descriptions of the underside of New York City life -- the hustlers, bars, tawdry shows, raw music, and loose women -- that spell doom to the newcomers from the South. Much of the action takes place in a nightclub called "The Banner", frequented by African Americans and by a class of whites who, then as in later times, practiced what is now termed "slumming". Dunbar has no affection or sentimenality for "The Banner" or its ilk. He writes: "[O]f course, the place was a social cesspool, generating a poisonous miasma and reeking with the stench of decayed and rotten moralities. There is no defense to be made for it. But what do you expect when false idealism and fevered ambition come face to face with catering cupidity?" Some of the frequenters of the banner include a con-man and raconteur named Sadness, the best-drawn character in Dunbar's book, a chorus girl named Hattie, and William Thomas, a railway worker with designs on young Kitty.
The destruction of the Hamilton family proceeds naturally and inexorably in this environment and becomes "The Sport of the Gods". Joe quickly takes to drink and becomes involved with Hattie. When she puts him out, Joe kills her and is sentenced to prison. Kitty succumbs to Thomas's advances and ultimately finds herself working in a vulgar chorus line. Fannie is persuaded by a gambler and criminal that her husband's long imprisonment is equivalent to a divorce. She marries him and endures and abusive relationship.
For all his negativity towards it, Dunbar offers an effective portrayal of early African American life in New York City, particularly its music. For the most part, the book is written in a bleak, naturalistic tone which reminded me of Stephen Crane's "Maggie", a somewhat earlier work about the effect of a slum environment in the destruction of lives. After Joe's imprisonment, the patrons of "The Banner", including Sadness, reflect upon his fate and upon the fate of young Southern blacks moving to New York:
"This was but for an hour, for even while they exclaimed they knew that there was no way, and that the stream of young negro life would continue to flow up from the South, dashing itself against the hard necessities of the city and breaking like waves against a rock, -- that until the gods grew tired of their cruel sport, there must still be sacrifices to false ideals and unreal ambitions."
Readers looking for high-quality writing that remains somewhat off-the- beaten path should explore Dunbar and this novel. He remains an author worth remembering and reading. "The Sport of the Gods" raises themes that would be developed in American literature throughout the 20th Century, especially in works written by African Americans. It is a short, bleak and effective novel by an American poet.
Robin Friedman
Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872 -- 1906)is best remembered as a poet. He wrote in both dialect and formal English. His famous poems include "We wear the mask", "Sympathy", which includes the line "I know why the caged bird sings", and "Frederick Douglass". Dunbar wrote prolifically during his short life, with an output that included essays, journalism, plays, short stories as well as poetry. Dunbar was also a novelist. His final effort in this form "The Sport of the Gods" (1902) remains an impressive work, a minor classic of American literature.
Dunbar's novel describes the fate of an African American family, the Hamiltons, which is forced to move from its home in the deep South (the particular State is not named) to New York City. The Hamiltons had seemingly achieved a degree of success and stability in the post-Civil War South. The father, Berry, had worked as a butler for a prosperous plantation owner, Oakley, for many years. Berry had lived frugally, and managed to save money. His wife, Fannie, also had a good job working as a housekeeper for the Oakleys. The couple had two children, Joe, 18, a barber to white people who had become a dandy, and Kitty, 16, her mother's darling. The peaceful life of the family comes to a startling end when Oakley falsely accuses Berry Hamilton of stealing. Berry is sentenced to ten years in prison. His family is ostracized by whites and blacks alike. Fannie, Joe, and Kitty move to New York City to find a new life for themselves.
The heart of this novel lies in Dunbar's descriptions of the underside of New York City life -- the hustlers, bars, tawdry shows, raw music, and loose women -- that spell doom to the newcomers from the South. Much of the action takes place in a nightclub called "The Banner", frequented by African Americans and by a class of whites who, then as in later times, practiced what is now termed "slumming". Dunbar has no affection or sentimenality for "The Banner" or its ilk. He writes: "[O]f course, the place was a social cesspool, generating a poisonous miasma and reeking with the stench of decayed and rotten moralities. There is no defense to be made for it. But what do you expect when false idealism and fevered ambition come face to face with catering cupidity?" Some of the frequenters of the banner include a con-man and raconteur named Sadness, the best-drawn character in Dunbar's book, a chorus girl named Hattie, and William Thomas, a railway worker with designs on young Kitty.
The destruction of the Hamilton family proceeds naturally and inexorably in this environment and becomes "The Sport of the Gods". Joe quickly takes to drink and becomes involved with Hattie. When she puts him out, Joe kills her and is sentenced to prison. Kitty succumbs to Thomas's advances and ultimately finds herself working in a vulgar chorus line. Fannie is persuaded by a gambler and criminal that her husband's long imprisonment is equivalent to a divorce. She marries him and endures and abusive relationship.
For all his negativity towards it, Dunbar offers an effective portrayal of early African American life in New York City, particularly its music. For the most part, the book is written in a bleak, naturalistic tone which reminded me of Stephen Crane's "Maggie", a somewhat earlier work about the effect of a slum environment in the destruction of lives. After Joe's imprisonment, the patrons of "The Banner", including Sadness, reflect upon his fate and upon the fate of young Southern blacks moving to New York:
"This was but for an hour, for even while they exclaimed they knew that there was no way, and that the stream of young negro life would continue to flow up from the South, dashing itself against the hard necessities of the city and breaking like waves against a rock, -- that until the gods grew tired of their cruel sport, there must still be sacrifices to false ideals and unreal ambitions."
Readers looking for high-quality writing that remains somewhat off-the- beaten path should explore Dunbar and this novel. He remains an author worth remembering and reading. "The Sport of the Gods" raises themes that would be developed in American literature throughout the 20th Century, especially in works written by African Americans. It is a short, bleak and effective novel by an American poet.
Robin Friedman
August 24, 2016
“Ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.”
I take the quote from the great modern activist James Baldwin. Although this is an activist novel of sorts, there are no quotable passages that pertain to its real significance as a testament to the post-abolition treatment of African Americans. Dunbar makes a great digression on Harlem life and plenty of sermonizing about the jazz lifestyle, but neither of these contribute to the theme. Maybe they were added in order to enhance the novel’s appeal, or pass censorship. Dunbar wrote a lot of great poetry and prose, but if he’d spoken too openly about racism, his career would’ve ended abruptly.
The true theme of the novel is inequality and injustice. A white landowner looks past his brother’s deception and blames his servant Berry for a crime. The whole town turns against Berry’s family, including their fellow African Americans, and ostracizes them. Within a few short years the family is destroyed beyond repair. If there’s a “moral to the story” it could only be: “If you ain’t white, move north.” But even that aspect of the fable is undercut by Dunbar’s description of Harlem as a hell of broken dreams and desperation.
Though Dunbar’s style of description is mediocre at times, he makes up for it with his skillful dialogue and character development. He has always seemed under appreciated to me, especially for his poetry. But then again, I was educated in white-biased literature.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the novel is its believability. Dunbar is concerned with making every angle believable, specifically to arrange the plot so that every character’s deeds are reasonable to the reader. No one can say that any one character is cruel or evil, even Maurice Oakley. He does this to show us how the environment, the very air, was hostile to African Americans.
And it’s believable because it’s still true. We see it every day in the actions of our modern police force. Over a century has passed and the situation hasn’t changed much.
I take the quote from the great modern activist James Baldwin. Although this is an activist novel of sorts, there are no quotable passages that pertain to its real significance as a testament to the post-abolition treatment of African Americans. Dunbar makes a great digression on Harlem life and plenty of sermonizing about the jazz lifestyle, but neither of these contribute to the theme. Maybe they were added in order to enhance the novel’s appeal, or pass censorship. Dunbar wrote a lot of great poetry and prose, but if he’d spoken too openly about racism, his career would’ve ended abruptly.
The true theme of the novel is inequality and injustice. A white landowner looks past his brother’s deception and blames his servant Berry for a crime. The whole town turns against Berry’s family, including their fellow African Americans, and ostracizes them. Within a few short years the family is destroyed beyond repair. If there’s a “moral to the story” it could only be: “If you ain’t white, move north.” But even that aspect of the fable is undercut by Dunbar’s description of Harlem as a hell of broken dreams and desperation.
Though Dunbar’s style of description is mediocre at times, he makes up for it with his skillful dialogue and character development. He has always seemed under appreciated to me, especially for his poetry. But then again, I was educated in white-biased literature.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the novel is its believability. Dunbar is concerned with making every angle believable, specifically to arrange the plot so that every character’s deeds are reasonable to the reader. No one can say that any one character is cruel or evil, even Maurice Oakley. He does this to show us how the environment, the very air, was hostile to African Americans.
And it’s believable because it’s still true. We see it every day in the actions of our modern police force. Over a century has passed and the situation hasn’t changed much.
January 3, 2017
My feelings on this book are confused. Is this a 2 star book, a 4 star book, or a 5 star book? I really have no idea. I settled on 3 star because I thought it was closest to neutral.
First, in terms of writing skill--5 stars for sure. Wonderfully well written. It's a short book, but there is a lot packed into it. It's also very engaging, and hard to put down. I read it in about an hour, and I wished it was longer because I wasn't ready to be done.
However, in regards to the 'moral' or point of the story...well, it is very difficult to decipher my feelings on that. Dunbar hates Harlem. Like, woah, hates Harlem. In "Double-Take: a Revisionist Harlem Rennaisance" Harlem is described as having 3 H's--the 'H' the city streets make, the 'H' of Heart, and the 'H' of Home. Dunbar would say it's the 'H' of Hatred and, more importantly, Hellfire. He portrays it as a city of scam artists, drunks, gamblers, thiefs, and people brought low by their obsession with the 'pleasures of the body'. He encourages Black people to stay in their small, racist, southern towns--even if they end up being imprisoned unfairly, or maybe even if you are hung. Stay in those towns because they are better for your soul.
In this, Dunbar seems to be repeating weird and awful tropes from white literature--I mean, the story of people moving to the big city to be corrupted only to their safe small home towns is a fairly common one. Essentially, that is Dunbar's story. In this novel, he portrays no--and I mean literally no--positive, honest, helpful, or likeable characters in the city of Harlem. Instead, it's a city guaranteed to eat you up and spit you out. While I find this depiction of interesting--I mean, it's literally pretty much the exact opposite of how practically every single other person in the Harlem Renaissance talks about Harlem, I'm ultimately not sure it's any more accurate than any other story. No city is perfect, or pure. Cities are not paved with gold, and money doesn't grow on trees. But neither is any city filled with only evil people who are out to trick you, leech off you, strangle you, and throw your body in the gutter. Cities (and people) are more complicated than that.
Dunbar's negative portrayal of the city, while maybe being an interesting counterpoint to the incredibly positive one many people have/had, is too....um, Christian? Pro-south? Or dare I say, Anti-Black?* to be entirely palatable to me. In having his main characters return to the home of the man who betrayed them, Dunbar is telling us it's better to stay with the devil you know--even if he imprisons, beats, or kills you--than to struggle to make a beautiful, complex, rich, lush, world filled with potentials and possibilities. And I just have a hard time with that.
Quote from the book:
There were some indeed who for an earnest hour sermonized about it and said "Here is another example of the pernicious influence of the city on untrained negros. Oh is there no way to keep these people from rushing away from small villages and country districts of the south up to the cities, where they cannot battle with the terrible force of a strange and unusual environment? Is there no way to prove to them that wollen-shirted, brown-jeaned simplicity is infinitely better than broad clothed degradation?" They wanted to preach to these people that good agriculture is better than bad art,--that it is better and nobler for them to sing to God across the Southern fields than to dance the rowdies in the North halls. They wanted to dare say that the South has its faults--no one condones them--and its disadvantages , but even what they suffered from these is better than what awaited them in the great alleys of New York. Down there, the bodies were restrained, and they chafed; but here the soul would fester, and they would be content. This was but for an hour, for even while they exclaimed they knew there was no way , and that the stream of young negro life would continue to flow up from the south, dashing itself against the hard necessities of the city and breaking like waves against a rock,--that, until the gods grew tired of their cruel sport, there must be sacrifices to false ideals and unreal ambitions.
*Why do I feel like this story is (maybe) weirdly anti-black? Ibram X Kendi in his book "Stamped from the Beginning: A history of Racist Ideas in America" suggests there is a racist history of "assimilationist" thinking in the history of Black scholars. He lists W.E.B. Du Bois and Booker T. Washington as being people who believe that Black people have been "enbrutalized" by slavery--that is, had all their culture and learning and being taken from them and turned into literal brutes. Kendi feels this is ridiculous. Dunbar, while rejecting the notion that black people were protected and happy in slavery/imprisonment (he portrays and criticizes these notions in the figure of Colonel Saunders), he seems to be implying they are still *better off* in indentured servitude.
First, in terms of writing skill--5 stars for sure. Wonderfully well written. It's a short book, but there is a lot packed into it. It's also very engaging, and hard to put down. I read it in about an hour, and I wished it was longer because I wasn't ready to be done.
However, in regards to the 'moral' or point of the story...well, it is very difficult to decipher my feelings on that. Dunbar hates Harlem. Like, woah, hates Harlem. In "Double-Take: a Revisionist Harlem Rennaisance" Harlem is described as having 3 H's--the 'H' the city streets make, the 'H' of Heart, and the 'H' of Home. Dunbar would say it's the 'H' of Hatred and, more importantly, Hellfire. He portrays it as a city of scam artists, drunks, gamblers, thiefs, and people brought low by their obsession with the 'pleasures of the body'. He encourages Black people to stay in their small, racist, southern towns--even if they end up being imprisoned unfairly, or maybe even if you are hung. Stay in those towns because they are better for your soul.
In this, Dunbar seems to be repeating weird and awful tropes from white literature--I mean, the story of people moving to the big city to be corrupted only to their safe small home towns is a fairly common one. Essentially, that is Dunbar's story. In this novel, he portrays no--and I mean literally no--positive, honest, helpful, or likeable characters in the city of Harlem. Instead, it's a city guaranteed to eat you up and spit you out. While I find this depiction of interesting--I mean, it's literally pretty much the exact opposite of how practically every single other person in the Harlem Renaissance talks about Harlem, I'm ultimately not sure it's any more accurate than any other story. No city is perfect, or pure. Cities are not paved with gold, and money doesn't grow on trees. But neither is any city filled with only evil people who are out to trick you, leech off you, strangle you, and throw your body in the gutter. Cities (and people) are more complicated than that.
Dunbar's negative portrayal of the city, while maybe being an interesting counterpoint to the incredibly positive one many people have/had, is too....um, Christian? Pro-south? Or dare I say, Anti-Black?* to be entirely palatable to me. In having his main characters return to the home of the man who betrayed them, Dunbar is telling us it's better to stay with the devil you know--even if he imprisons, beats, or kills you--than to struggle to make a beautiful, complex, rich, lush, world filled with potentials and possibilities. And I just have a hard time with that.
Quote from the book:
There were some indeed who for an earnest hour sermonized about it and said "Here is another example of the pernicious influence of the city on untrained negros. Oh is there no way to keep these people from rushing away from small villages and country districts of the south up to the cities, where they cannot battle with the terrible force of a strange and unusual environment? Is there no way to prove to them that wollen-shirted, brown-jeaned simplicity is infinitely better than broad clothed degradation?" They wanted to preach to these people that good agriculture is better than bad art,--that it is better and nobler for them to sing to God across the Southern fields than to dance the rowdies in the North halls. They wanted to dare say that the South has its faults--no one condones them--and its disadvantages , but even what they suffered from these is better than what awaited them in the great alleys of New York. Down there, the bodies were restrained, and they chafed; but here the soul would fester, and they would be content. This was but for an hour, for even while they exclaimed they knew there was no way , and that the stream of young negro life would continue to flow up from the south, dashing itself against the hard necessities of the city and breaking like waves against a rock,--that, until the gods grew tired of their cruel sport, there must be sacrifices to false ideals and unreal ambitions.
*Why do I feel like this story is (maybe) weirdly anti-black? Ibram X Kendi in his book "Stamped from the Beginning: A history of Racist Ideas in America" suggests there is a racist history of "assimilationist" thinking in the history of Black scholars. He lists W.E.B. Du Bois and Booker T. Washington as being people who believe that Black people have been "enbrutalized" by slavery--that is, had all their culture and learning and being taken from them and turned into literal brutes. Kendi feels this is ridiculous. Dunbar, while rejecting the notion that black people were protected and happy in slavery/imprisonment (he portrays and criticizes these notions in the figure of Colonel Saunders), he seems to be implying they are still *better off* in indentured servitude.
May 6, 2017
A Southern black family moves to New York City after losing their place in town due to circumstances not of their making. They become victims of others losing consequently losing all they value along with their innocence. Faith is lost.
For English teachers there is a bit of Macbeth in here. For Social Studies teachers a mention of yellow journalism.
For English teachers there is a bit of Macbeth in here. For Social Studies teachers a mention of yellow journalism.
July 10, 2023
All I can gather from this book is that the sport of the gods is suffering... Human Suffering. Barry Hamilton is an emancipated black man working as a butler for a wealthy white family in the south. He lives his life with a pious dignity believing that the future has arrived and he, and his family, will be ready for the higher places in the world. When Barry is accused of stealing money from his employer, he is sentenced to ten years of hard labor. With the shame of his arrest hovering over the family, they are forced from their jobs and their homes and left with nowhere to turn. To survive the hardship his wife Fannie, and his children Joe and Kitty move to New York to start over. Joe begins working to support his family, but the excitement of the city causes him to lose his way with a bad crowd. Kitty finds work as a dancer leaving home and abandoning her family, while Fannie is forced to marry a man from the city just to get by. Several years later a confession by the actual money thief is found by a reporter and published nationwide, Barry is given his freedom back, but finds his life and family are in disarray. This book serves to highlight the inequalities in the criminal justice system for black people during that time as well as bringing attention to the vices of the city that seemed to swallow southern black people who moved north in search of a better life. The story is quick and well written, recommended for anyone looking to know more about American History.
March 12, 2022
Paul Laurence Dunbar is primarily famous as a poet, but the beauty, tension and pathos of this story was really unique. Sean Crisden's narration was just incredible, his emotional power and skill with so many dialects and vocal styles has definitely signed me on to any other narrations he's done. This is a brand new audiobook just published at the end of December 2021, but I highly recommend it. As noted in other editions of the book, this short novel was groundbreaking for its time (1902) as a heartbreaking study of the presumptions and dangerous social and legal minefields faced by African Americans in both rural and urban areas in the early 1900s. Such a well done audiobook enhancing even more the underrated work of the wonderful Paul Laurence Dunbar.
June 14, 2020
Harshly real and thought-provoking, The Sport of the Gods is an important story about displacement, vice and injustice. Definitely don't pick it up for light reading, but don't expect some philosophical beauty-for-ashes Great American Novel. The Sport of the Gods is a simple story with a not-as-simple message, and the weight it carries is as significant today as ever it was. As can be said of any groundbreaking story, this novel - one of the first to depict the gritty struggles of ghetto life - takes on a rather pedagogical air at times. But anyone who discredits it for this has clearly not understood the significance of what they have just read.
February 14, 2023
Misery in History
This was my first experience reading Dunbar. It certainly won’t be my last. This tragedy novel is a sad read because it likely mirrors the experience of so many other African Americans who experienced bigotry and intolerance after emancipation. The story read like Dunbar was writing a Greek tragedy set in his own time. I found myself compelled to keep reading, though it wasn’t necessarily a pleasant story, more thought-provoking.
This was my first experience reading Dunbar. It certainly won’t be my last. This tragedy novel is a sad read because it likely mirrors the experience of so many other African Americans who experienced bigotry and intolerance after emancipation. The story read like Dunbar was writing a Greek tragedy set in his own time. I found myself compelled to keep reading, though it wasn’t necessarily a pleasant story, more thought-provoking.
October 1, 2013
The sad story of a Southern Black family whose fortunes fail as their patriarch is wrongly accused of a theft. Although the father is eventually cleared of the crime, so much tragedy is visited upon the family it hardly seems that justice has been done.
Despite the sad nature of the tale it is well written and is certainly worth a read.
Despite the sad nature of the tale it is well written and is certainly worth a read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
December 11, 2025
If there is a god, remind me to punch him in the jaw when I die. This was a devastating reminder of so much of what I saw growing up, and of the cruelty with which we human beings so often and carelessly treat each other. It remains a much needed testimony to what awaited new arrivals from the South during The Great Migration, and a warning to all people of the results of lack of care in investigation, and of lack of empathy in general.
March 30, 2022
Classics are hit and miss for me. I see the importance of this book, but didn't enjoy the reading experience.
July 22, 2018
Pretty impressive little book, this one. This is not an era of literature, nor a 'type' of story that I am typically drawn to, but I picked this up on a recommendation from a VERY trusted source. Beyond the interest in an African-American author writing about a typical set of experiences...well before the time when such would have been seen, I was also interested by his connections to my beloved Washington DC.
The book was wonderful and interesting on many levels. The speed that the plot moved bespoke the era in which it was written (and perhaps by way of lit-crit one could make an argument that things happening quickly was a part of the experience being expressed). The language was absolutely marvelous though. Dunbar shifts seamlessly between beautiful formal English and various regional dialectics better than just about anyone. Certainly on par with Joyce's Irish, Dunbar conveys the spoken words of his characters so accurately and in such detail as to reflect their regionalisms and not just the wide-net culture that might be attributed to skin color.
The plot, unfortunately was all too familiar. The worst of it was the realization that this all too familiar racial-lines plot has been continuing in America for so long. Of course I am not naïve enough to believe that any of this is recent...but it kills me to think of how little we've come beyond these tropes (in real life AND reflected in art) since Dunbar wrote this book.
Eye-opening, brilliant, and worth the read!
The book was wonderful and interesting on many levels. The speed that the plot moved bespoke the era in which it was written (and perhaps by way of lit-crit one could make an argument that things happening quickly was a part of the experience being expressed). The language was absolutely marvelous though. Dunbar shifts seamlessly between beautiful formal English and various regional dialectics better than just about anyone. Certainly on par with Joyce's Irish, Dunbar conveys the spoken words of his characters so accurately and in such detail as to reflect their regionalisms and not just the wide-net culture that might be attributed to skin color.
The plot, unfortunately was all too familiar. The worst of it was the realization that this all too familiar racial-lines plot has been continuing in America for so long. Of course I am not naïve enough to believe that any of this is recent...but it kills me to think of how little we've come beyond these tropes (in real life AND reflected in art) since Dunbar wrote this book.
Eye-opening, brilliant, and worth the read!
October 11, 2013
In 1865 Southern slaves were liberated but the majority didn’t possess the education, experience and/or opportunity to prosper in freedom. Many ex-slaves continued to work at the same thing they did before their liberation for whatever wages they could get. This was the case with Berry and Fanny Hamilton. The Hamilton’s felt happy, trusted and secure in their lives as butler and house keeper of the Oakley family. When it was assumed that money was missing, Berry Hamilton was promptly accused, tried and convicted of a crime he didn’t commit. He was sentenced to ten years in prison and his family found themselves homeless. Not only the people they had so faithfully served thought the worst of them but also other Negro families in the area assumed him guilty. The only solution was to leave their home and go to New York and a new life. This story, though probably very common and true, is depressing as well as frustrating (as I’m sure the author meant it to be). I liked this story despite and notwithstanding this statement. Lincoln freed the slaves but black Americans had a long road to travel before they were truly free citizens.
November 18, 2012
A Melancholy Tale
This book made me sad. Not in a way which I can describe. The overall tone of this novel was meant to cause grief-- for discrimination is a horrible, horrible sin. I am not saying that we should pity Barry Hamilton, I do not believe that he would want that. I am saying that we should stand up for others in remembrance of this character. He was taken advantage of by his closest friends and all that he held dear was destroyed. I would compare the story of Barry Hamilton to that of Job of the Bible. The most innocent of men was found by the evil one, and all was taken away from him only to see his response. Barry should live on in our minds and remind us of the evil of not considering the feelings of others.
This book made me sad. Not in a way which I can describe. The overall tone of this novel was meant to cause grief-- for discrimination is a horrible, horrible sin. I am not saying that we should pity Barry Hamilton, I do not believe that he would want that. I am saying that we should stand up for others in remembrance of this character. He was taken advantage of by his closest friends and all that he held dear was destroyed. I would compare the story of Barry Hamilton to that of Job of the Bible. The most innocent of men was found by the evil one, and all was taken away from him only to see his response. Barry should live on in our minds and remind us of the evil of not considering the feelings of others.
January 24, 2015
This was a good read but so bleak and it made me very sad to read it.
December 15, 2018
Slight & puritanical. Injustice forces Decent Family to go to Sin City with its Temptations and Decadence.
August 2, 2021
Paul Lawrence Dunbar was one of the first black writers/poets to gain recognition and exposure in white American magazines at the turn of the last century. Sport of the Gods is a story that soon became a cliché in black literature—that of poor blacks moving North and getting swallowed up/destroyed in the big city. While some of the novel seems antiquated (actresses are just a step above prostitutes) and melodramatic, the message, sadly is still relevant. No matter how hard African Americans work and try to conform, their fate is still in the hands of whites, who rarely think about the consequences of their prejudice. The bitterness in Dunbar’s novels and short stories make his work as powerful today as when they were written.
March 17, 2024
Short but powerful and captivating . The vivid story telling raised some strong emotions for me.
January 17, 2024
This is one of those books by one of those authors that not one out of a hundred people asked on the street would recognize. That’s not to say the pair are lofty or arcane by design nor should they be, but rather that they are two connected souls lost in the churn of time.
On top of his already brief life (34 years), Paul Laurence Dunbar was a member of a precarious bunch of Black American writers who sought to advance Black authorship at a time when seemingly no one was listening. The post-bellum / pre-Harlem literature period (c. 1870-1920) was set against a South that was reeling over its recent destruction and a North that’s wasn’t sure how to now accommodate a newly freed class of Americans while also reassimilating the South back into their not-so-happy Union. The result was a period of growing pains, festering racism, and all around struggle. The literature of this period is not all too dissimilar (very much a situation of art imitating life). PLD’s work was not all down and dreary, but The Sport of the Gods sure was.
This book presents a hard and fast look at Black life in America during Reconstruction. Moreover, it tells the tale of ill-deserved fate and a false perception of agency. In a metaphoric way, it’s as if White America is pulling at the loom of Fate while Black America winces at its every tug.
The story itself is short, tight, and well written. One of PLD’s notable accolades was his ability to transcribe the Black dialect. To be sure, his mastery is on full display throughout. I always like a good tragedy, and The Sport of the Gods is surely a unique and widely forgotten example.
**Very minor spoilers below**
This dangerous game of life is played out through the Hamilton family and their untimely ill-fortunes. It begins with “Southern honor” ripping a father from his family. The ever-loyal Berry is slighted by vengeful White southerners who struggle to reconcile their shame over the past and their discomfort with the present. Now apart from their father and in the foreign world that is New York City, the stage is set for the forces of the city to dissolve what remains of the fatherless trio. Joe, Kitty, and Fannie succumb to different aspects of what PLD feels are the unavoidable urges and pressures of (free) Black city life. Joe and Kitty’s downfalls are veiled in false promises of freedom, culture, and opportunity. Really what they turn out to be are pitfalls of the soul. The two fall into moral depravity while their already grieving mother watches on as her two children drift into the abyss of New York City.
The last chapter is perhaps the most damning of all, as those who are left seemingly pack up and move on from the miserable situation like it never happened. Like hungry and beaten dogs, Fannie and Berry crawl back to the food bowl of the Oakleys once more, the two of them hoping for nothing more than some reprieve from the pain and suffering their been fated.
Upon reflection, no one is in control of how they turn out, and that is exactly what PLD has to say about being Black in America during this time. Men and women are sold the idea of freedom and equality but take delivery of stunted free will and a vengeful case of racism. In many ways PLD is asking about what happened to the 40 acres and the mule. What he got was a jar of dust and a dead rat. One might call this a precursor to afropessimism. I am inclined to agree, though PLD’s vision here is not robust enough to serve as such a catalyst [see Invisible Man]. Perhaps with a fuller life he could have seen himself become one of the greats; he could have witnessed his supposedly rotten city actually produce something great in the Harlem Renaissance. He could have written alongside the incredible thinkers of 20th century and really helped to shape the genre. He may very well have been one of those authors that people on the street can spot. Alas, fate had a different plan.
On top of his already brief life (34 years), Paul Laurence Dunbar was a member of a precarious bunch of Black American writers who sought to advance Black authorship at a time when seemingly no one was listening. The post-bellum / pre-Harlem literature period (c. 1870-1920) was set against a South that was reeling over its recent destruction and a North that’s wasn’t sure how to now accommodate a newly freed class of Americans while also reassimilating the South back into their not-so-happy Union. The result was a period of growing pains, festering racism, and all around struggle. The literature of this period is not all too dissimilar (very much a situation of art imitating life). PLD’s work was not all down and dreary, but The Sport of the Gods sure was.
This book presents a hard and fast look at Black life in America during Reconstruction. Moreover, it tells the tale of ill-deserved fate and a false perception of agency. In a metaphoric way, it’s as if White America is pulling at the loom of Fate while Black America winces at its every tug.
The story itself is short, tight, and well written. One of PLD’s notable accolades was his ability to transcribe the Black dialect. To be sure, his mastery is on full display throughout. I always like a good tragedy, and The Sport of the Gods is surely a unique and widely forgotten example.
**Very minor spoilers below**
This dangerous game of life is played out through the Hamilton family and their untimely ill-fortunes. It begins with “Southern honor” ripping a father from his family. The ever-loyal Berry is slighted by vengeful White southerners who struggle to reconcile their shame over the past and their discomfort with the present. Now apart from their father and in the foreign world that is New York City, the stage is set for the forces of the city to dissolve what remains of the fatherless trio. Joe, Kitty, and Fannie succumb to different aspects of what PLD feels are the unavoidable urges and pressures of (free) Black city life. Joe and Kitty’s downfalls are veiled in false promises of freedom, culture, and opportunity. Really what they turn out to be are pitfalls of the soul. The two fall into moral depravity while their already grieving mother watches on as her two children drift into the abyss of New York City.
The last chapter is perhaps the most damning of all, as those who are left seemingly pack up and move on from the miserable situation like it never happened. Like hungry and beaten dogs, Fannie and Berry crawl back to the food bowl of the Oakleys once more, the two of them hoping for nothing more than some reprieve from the pain and suffering their been fated.
Upon reflection, no one is in control of how they turn out, and that is exactly what PLD has to say about being Black in America during this time. Men and women are sold the idea of freedom and equality but take delivery of stunted free will and a vengeful case of racism. In many ways PLD is asking about what happened to the 40 acres and the mule. What he got was a jar of dust and a dead rat. One might call this a precursor to afropessimism. I am inclined to agree, though PLD’s vision here is not robust enough to serve as such a catalyst [see Invisible Man]. Perhaps with a fuller life he could have seen himself become one of the greats; he could have witnessed his supposedly rotten city actually produce something great in the Harlem Renaissance. He could have written alongside the incredible thinkers of 20th century and really helped to shape the genre. He may very well have been one of those authors that people on the street can spot. Alas, fate had a different plan.
February 12, 2019
Sport of the Gods, by Paul Laurence Dunbar, was one of the saddest books I have ever read-- but authentically sad-- in the most generic definition of sadness. There were no sensationalized over-dramatizations here. Every mishap is believable, and probable, in that era in Black American History. And, while I find every aspect of the systemic racism that existed then, and persists now, offends me to my core, I value the shared experience of Black Americans more than I can say. White people cannot possibly imagine what it is like to be Black. Even the most enlightened extrapolation of the color curve does not do the Black American experience justice. Being Black in America is horrifying, at best. The "Sport of the Gods," i.e., white privilege, is alive and sucking the life out of people of color in ways not even decipherable. If we could walk a mile in any Black person's shoes, chances are we wouldn't make it a foot, let alone a mile. It is an exercise in courage that defies description, and exposes our country's claim to espouse "justice for all." This is a really well-written book spoken in a voice that neither condones nor condemns American racism. It just tells it like it is...
August 29, 2015
Dunbar's narrative is as compelling as his poetry. A black family prospering in the Antebellum South is destroyed by the lies and treachery of the white family they served faithfully.
Following the paths of the children in the novel we see how the negative effects of this betrayal ripple through time. The prose itself is winsome, enough to provoke clear and vivid pictures, restrained to encourage flourishes of imagination. Unlike other novels from the same period the narrative and prose remain imminently readable and yet somehow remains challenging. Characters are given authentic voices, and timeless circumstances bring real, raw emotions to the table despite the separation of time.
The Sport of the Gods could easily be a modern novel, for it's language use and topicality. While this says much about the talent of the writer, it says nothing good about the state of affairs of American race relations.
Following the paths of the children in the novel we see how the negative effects of this betrayal ripple through time. The prose itself is winsome, enough to provoke clear and vivid pictures, restrained to encourage flourishes of imagination. Unlike other novels from the same period the narrative and prose remain imminently readable and yet somehow remains challenging. Characters are given authentic voices, and timeless circumstances bring real, raw emotions to the table despite the separation of time.
The Sport of the Gods could easily be a modern novel, for it's language use and topicality. While this says much about the talent of the writer, it says nothing good about the state of affairs of American race relations.
October 6, 2012
I cannot count the number of times I've read this novel, the first being my summer between high school and college. I'm partial to African-American literature with a focus on The Great Migration and/or works during the Harlem Renaissance. As a mostly life-long Southerner, I'm intrigued by the action of families seeking refuge in the North -- only to find refuge may not exist. This story is in the same family of Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle" and one of my favorite short stories, "Cordelia the Crude" by Wallace Thurman.
April 23, 2013
Wow...where do I start? I don't know what else to say beside the fact that this book was depressing. Watching the Hamilton family unravel at the hands of somone else's character flaw is disconcerting. The ideologies of the southern white "gentleman" are disgusting, but something that was a reality back then. I understand now why it took me so long to read such a small book. I knew that there was no happy ending. Only sorrow and grief to which I was in no rush to arrive.
July 15, 2013
I first discovered this novel when it was assigned for one of my college courses, but I never got around to reading it. Eloquently written but horribly depressing. A sociopolitical dynamic of South vs. North in the personal context of two struggling families. This is a classic piece, and I'm glad I finally read it.
November 8, 2023
Has some issues (it could have used one more pass through for both line editing and just toghtening up the plot [although the story is already pretty short]), but it has a powerful message. I don't agree that racism is some unstoppable force to which we must succumb, but I understand that it can feel that way sometimes and this novel captures that feeling in a pretty powerful way by the end.
March 17, 2013
Something I didn't expect from this author, a good story with modern clues. This story could be placed at almost any timeline.
April 23, 2019
Final rating: 3.5 stars
"The first sign of the demoralization of the provincial who comes to New York is his pride at his insensibility to certain impressions which used to influence him at home. First, he begins to scoff, and there is no truth in his views nor depth in his laugh. But by and by, from mere pretending, it becomes real. He grows callous. After that he goes to the devil very cheerfully."
This book was extremely well written and a lot of my enjoyment came from Paul Laurence Dunbar's incredible skill at storytelling. I was immediately drawn into the story and as it quickly began to progress, I found myself itching to see it through to completion. This book follows the Hamilton family; Berry and Fannie Hamilton as well as their son and daughter, Joe and Kit. As some money goes missing from Berry's employer's brother, Berry is quickly blamed for committing this crime of which he is innocent, largely due to the color of his skin. This in turn leads to the devastating effects Berry's prolonged absence will have on his family. After being ostracized by both the white and black people within their community, Fannie is left with little choice but to flee the neighborhood they've always known and love for the sake of trying to make a more comfortable life in the city of New York.
It was interesting to get insight into the african-american culture during the 1900's and to see that many of the same problems that still exist within the culture today, make for a still relevant novel. Overall, I don't know that I cared much for most of the characters within this book, save for Sadness as he was my personal favorite, but I did feel that Dunbar placed them all here for a reason and to portray a message to the reader. Because of this, it felt like this book held more depth due to it's underlying meaning and it's tragic outcome of the Hamilton family. The ending is the only part I felt I had mixed feelings with, which isn't the most delightful way to end a book. However, I also know that in the authors decision to end it in this way, was a decision that held much meaning.
I don't normally add 3 star books to my recommended shelf, but since my intended 4 star rating was lowered slightly only due to the ending, I still highly recommend this book. It is a quick read but is also one that I won't soon forget.
"The first sign of the demoralization of the provincial who comes to New York is his pride at his insensibility to certain impressions which used to influence him at home. First, he begins to scoff, and there is no truth in his views nor depth in his laugh. But by and by, from mere pretending, it becomes real. He grows callous. After that he goes to the devil very cheerfully."
This book was extremely well written and a lot of my enjoyment came from Paul Laurence Dunbar's incredible skill at storytelling. I was immediately drawn into the story and as it quickly began to progress, I found myself itching to see it through to completion. This book follows the Hamilton family; Berry and Fannie Hamilton as well as their son and daughter, Joe and Kit. As some money goes missing from Berry's employer's brother, Berry is quickly blamed for committing this crime of which he is innocent, largely due to the color of his skin. This in turn leads to the devastating effects Berry's prolonged absence will have on his family. After being ostracized by both the white and black people within their community, Fannie is left with little choice but to flee the neighborhood they've always known and love for the sake of trying to make a more comfortable life in the city of New York.
It was interesting to get insight into the african-american culture during the 1900's and to see that many of the same problems that still exist within the culture today, make for a still relevant novel. Overall, I don't know that I cared much for most of the characters within this book, save for Sadness as he was my personal favorite, but I did feel that Dunbar placed them all here for a reason and to portray a message to the reader. Because of this, it felt like this book held more depth due to it's underlying meaning and it's tragic outcome of the Hamilton family. The ending is the only part I felt I had mixed feelings with, which isn't the most delightful way to end a book. However, I also know that in the authors decision to end it in this way, was a decision that held much meaning.
I don't normally add 3 star books to my recommended shelf, but since my intended 4 star rating was lowered slightly only due to the ending, I still highly recommend this book. It is a quick read but is also one that I won't soon forget.
February 21, 2025
Paul Laurence Dunbar was a contemporary of Mark Twain and Steven Crane, also Frederick Douglas, Booker T Washington and WEB DuBois. But I had never heard of him until this book popped up in my Good Reads recommendations.
This is a tragic story of a Black family during Reconstruction, whose lives are pretty much ruined by the uncaring lies and deceit of white people. It commences as Berry Hamilton, a Black servant, is framed for a theft by the brother of his white employer. The community- white and Black- is quick to believe the worst of Berry, even though there is no real evidence that he did anything wrong. He is imprisoned and his family, as a result, lose their positions, livelihood, and home in the community. They head to New York City where they do their best to fit in, to their detriment.
It was interesting reading this as I'm watching Henry Louis Gates' PBS show on the Great Migration, because it was obviously a common challenge for many families. How do we make our way in a city where we don't have any connections and don't know whom to trust?
In this book with regard to the second question, the answer is 'almost no one'. Others in the city, Black as well as white, are quick to take advantage of the new arrivals and the result is not positive. Dunbar shows a pretty negative side of the big city-- corruption, alcoholism, questionable morality, and dangerous temptations-- and his moralizing can be a bit much. Even Berry's wife, who hasn't compromised her values, feels trapped and at the mercy of others.
This is a tragic story of a Black family during Reconstruction, whose lives are pretty much ruined by the uncaring lies and deceit of white people. It commences as Berry Hamilton, a Black servant, is framed for a theft by the brother of his white employer. The community- white and Black- is quick to believe the worst of Berry, even though there is no real evidence that he did anything wrong. He is imprisoned and his family, as a result, lose their positions, livelihood, and home in the community. They head to New York City where they do their best to fit in, to their detriment.
It was interesting reading this as I'm watching Henry Louis Gates' PBS show on the Great Migration, because it was obviously a common challenge for many families. How do we make our way in a city where we don't have any connections and don't know whom to trust?
In this book with regard to the second question, the answer is 'almost no one'. Others in the city, Black as well as white, are quick to take advantage of the new arrivals and the result is not positive. Dunbar shows a pretty negative side of the big city-- corruption, alcoholism, questionable morality, and dangerous temptations-- and his moralizing can be a bit much. Even Berry's wife, who hasn't compromised her values, feels trapped and at the mercy of others.
February 25, 2023
2.5
I was interested to see that a new Signet Classic edition of this book was just published. I had an old Collier copy so I started reading it while waiting in line at the bank drive-up window. What a disappointment. While he is not illiterate, Dunbar seems to consciously use words too big for the story. He also manages to preach a number of times about the evils of New York and alcohol and leaving the house generally. This is strange, because the only really interesting characters are two bar patrons—Hattie Sterling, a chorus girl and Skaggsy, a white reporter. Kitty Hamilton seems to become a strong person after she takes to the stage as well. As for the people that the “gods” choose to destroy, they make their own decisions. Berry Hamilton is certainly given a raw deal—being accused of stealing over $900 from his employer’s brother. Yet he and his wife manage to spend quiet days together when he is exonerated.
The accusation of the theft is similar to the one in Worth Tuttle Hedden’s story “Charity,” which is one of the first she ever wrote. It is pretty certain that she read Dunbar's book, although she never mentions it in her letters. Nor is it plagiarism, as she simply takes a similar circumstance and gives it a different treatment. Perhaps she realized that Dunbar had not done with his subject all that he could have.
Sport of the Gods was written in 30 days as a result of a request from Lippincott’s Magazine, which may be the reason it seems so hurried and unfocused It is as if Dunbar wasn’t sure what he wanted to say and was not able to tighten and edit it as it should have been. The idea of the gods seems an afterthought that he went back and stuck in in two or three places, much like Hedden did in her novel The Other Room. There is also probably some influence by Dreiser, whose Sister Carrie was published a year earlier. Dreiser’s page and a half of preaching and his naturalistic tone are similar to Dunbar’s, although done better.
I was interested to see that a new Signet Classic edition of this book was just published. I had an old Collier copy so I started reading it while waiting in line at the bank drive-up window. What a disappointment. While he is not illiterate, Dunbar seems to consciously use words too big for the story. He also manages to preach a number of times about the evils of New York and alcohol and leaving the house generally. This is strange, because the only really interesting characters are two bar patrons—Hattie Sterling, a chorus girl and Skaggsy, a white reporter. Kitty Hamilton seems to become a strong person after she takes to the stage as well. As for the people that the “gods” choose to destroy, they make their own decisions. Berry Hamilton is certainly given a raw deal—being accused of stealing over $900 from his employer’s brother. Yet he and his wife manage to spend quiet days together when he is exonerated.
The accusation of the theft is similar to the one in Worth Tuttle Hedden’s story “Charity,” which is one of the first she ever wrote. It is pretty certain that she read Dunbar's book, although she never mentions it in her letters. Nor is it plagiarism, as she simply takes a similar circumstance and gives it a different treatment. Perhaps she realized that Dunbar had not done with his subject all that he could have.
Sport of the Gods was written in 30 days as a result of a request from Lippincott’s Magazine, which may be the reason it seems so hurried and unfocused It is as if Dunbar wasn’t sure what he wanted to say and was not able to tighten and edit it as it should have been. The idea of the gods seems an afterthought that he went back and stuck in in two or three places, much like Hedden did in her novel The Other Room. There is also probably some influence by Dreiser, whose Sister Carrie was published a year earlier. Dreiser’s page and a half of preaching and his naturalistic tone are similar to Dunbar’s, although done better.
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